Silence filled the circular chamber after the guardian's collapse. The air, heavy with ancient magic, hung still, as if holding onto the echoes of battle. Silas rose slowly, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.
He took a few steps, his sharp gaze scanning the carvings on the walls, searching for any sign of what awaited him next. But it was the center of the room that caught his attention.
Where the guardian's body had once stood, a dark box slowly emerged from the stone floor with the soft grinding of shifting mechanisms.
Silas approached cautiously.
The box was elegant and unassuming, without any excessive decorations. Its lid bore a single symbol: an open eye, bisected by a vertical blade.
"Interesting…" Silas muttered as he knelt before it.
His fingers brushed over the cold metal, feeling a faint hum of energy vibrating beneath his palm. With a smooth motion, he lifted the lid.
Inside, nestled in dark velvet, lay a ring.
It wasn't extravagant. Forged from ancient silver, it held a dark gem at its center, a stone that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Fine engravings lined the inner curve of the band — far too small to read with the naked eye.
Silas carefully picked up the ring.
An artifact.
Finding magical objects in places like this wasn't uncommon, but something about the ring intrigued him. The energy radiating from it wasn't hostile or dangerous. Instead, it felt… curious, as though the ring itself was evaluating its new holder.
He rolled it between his fingers, letting instinct guide him.
"This might be the only thing I walk away with from this place…"
Without further hesitation, he slid the ring onto his left middle finger.
The moment it fit into place, a cold pulse coursed up his arm, sending a shiver down his spine like a ripple of ice through his veins.
And then — nothing.
Silas raised an eyebrow, lifting his hand to examine the ring from different angles.
"I expected something more… dramatic."
He was about to continue when a soft clicking sound echoed through the chamber.
A portal had appeared on the far side of the room.
Its edges shimmered faintly with pale blue light, pulsing in sync with the gem on the ring.
Silas smirked.
"That's more like it."
He stepped toward the portal, casting one last glance at the now-empty box before disappearing through the shimmering doorway.
---
Moments Later…
The portal led Silas to a smaller chamber, lined with tarnished mirrors covering every wall. His reflection stretched endlessly in all directions, multiplied hundreds of times throughout the room.
But something felt off.
A subtle detail he didn't catch at first glance.
In one of the mirrors, his reflection wasn't wearing the ring.
Silas stopped, locking eyes with the single reflection that stood apart. All the other mirrored versions followed his movements perfectly — except for this one.
He approached the mirror slowly, narrowing his gaze.
The missing ring wasn't a mistake.
This wasn't just a reflection.
As if responding to his presence, the image in the mirror took a step back, its eyes — Silas's eyes — glowing faintly with a crimson light.
"I guess this is where things get interesting…"
His hand drifted toward the hilt of his sword.
The ring wasn't just an artifact.
It had awakened something ancient… and now, it was watching him from beyond the glass.
***
Silas's fingers brushed the hilt of his sword, his gaze locked onto the mirror. The reflection that should not exist stood perfectly still, staring back at him with glowing crimson eyes.
Around him, the other mirrors continued to mimic his every movement. But this one… this one was different.
Silas stepped forward.
The reflection without the ring did not move.
He approached closer, his breath fogging the surface of the glass. His reflection remained impassive, holding his gaze through the thin layer of dust that coated the mirror.
Slowly, Silas raised his left hand — the one bearing the ring.
The reflection lifted its hand as well, but its finger was bare.
This isn't just a mirror…
The light in the room flickered slightly.
Without warning, the reflection extended its hand toward Silas, reaching through the mirror's surface.
Silas sprang back, drawing his sword in a single swift motion. The blade hummed faintly in the dim room, catching reflections from the walls around him.
The spectral arm, its edges flickering like mist, slowly withdrew back into the mirror.
Silas held his stance, waiting for any further movement. None came.
"Alright… you want to play this game."
With a sharp flick of his wrist, he lowered the blade and pointed the ring directly at the mirror.
The gem pulsed, emitting a faint, dark glow. A ripple of heat swept across the chamber, and the mirrors trembled under the wave of energy.
The glass in front of him cracked slightly.
A weak point.
Silas didn't hesitate. He gripped his sword with both hands and struck the mirror's surface.
The blade sliced through effortlessly, as if cutting cloth rather than glass.
The mirror's surface split with a shrill sound, revealing an opening.
Behind it lay a spiraling staircase that plunged into darkness.
Silas carefully extended the tip of his sword into the passage, testing for traps. Nothing reacted.
He cast one last glance at the mirrored chamber, his countless reflections watching silently from the glass walls.
Then, he stepped through the opening, disappearing behind the fractured veil of glass.
The staircase seemed endless.
Only the soft, rhythmic pulses from the ring lit his path, casting faint crimson glows along the dusty stone steps.
Each footfall echoed through the narrow space, and as he descended further, the air grew colder and heavier.
Finally, he reached the bottom, standing before a stone door.
It bore the same symbol as the ring — the eye bisected by a blade.
Silas pressed his hand against the rough surface. The door vibrated slightly at his touch before slowly grinding open with a low, rumbling sound.
He stepped inside a smaller circular chamber.
At the center of the room, floating above a pedestal, was a shard of black crystal.
Silas approached cautiously, but his steps halted abruptly.
Across the room, standing in the shadows, someone was waiting.
It was him.
His reflection — or rather, what he could have been.
The other Silas bore no scars, no signs of exhaustion. His clothes were pristine, untouched by battle. He radiated an energy that Silas hadn't felt in years.
"What the hell…"
The figure smiled faintly but said nothing.
Silas instinctively raised his sword, but deep down, he knew this fight wouldn't be settled with steel alone.
This temple was testing far more than his strength.