Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“It requires both of us,” Delphine finished. “Like the original ritual. Like everything she built.”
They positioned themselves on opposite sides of the altar, hands hovering over the glyphs. The metal felt warm under Bastien’s palm, responding to his frequency. He could feel Delphine’s resonance through the network, silver light pulsing in steady rhythm.
“Together,” he said.
They pressed simultaneously. The crest lit up—gold and silver meeting in the center, mixing into white light that flared bright enough to make Bastien’s eyes water. The metal shifted under his hand. Not breaking or bending but opening. A mechanism releasing, ancient and precise.
The altar crest split down the middle. Beneath it, a sealed chamber. Small, lined with lead to block magical sensing. Inside: a leather journal, architectural drawings rolled and tied with ribbon, and a small mirror with the broken circle symbol etched into its frame.
Bastien’s hands shook as he lifted the journal. Charlotte’s handwriting covered the first page—neat, precise, the script of someone who’d learned penmanship when it still mattered.
Delphine read over his shoulder, her flashlight providing steady illumination. The journal contained everything. Charlotte’s complete design philosophy. Every component explained in detail. The way each node required mutual consent to activate. The safeguards she’d built to prevent exactly the kind of corruption Gideon had attempted.
And the counter-broadcast tool. Instructions written in Charlotte’s careful hand.
Use truth against lies. Use choice against compulsion.
The final entry about the mirror network.
If you’re reading this, someone corrupted what we built. Here’s how to reclaim it.
She’d known. Had anticipated this exact scenario. Had left them the tools they needed, hidden in the one place only Bastien would think to look, accessible only with both their frequencies working in concert.
Delphine unrolled the architectural drawings. The complete network spread across the paper—every node marked, every connection mapped, every activation requirement annotated. Gideon’s sermon lattice overlaid on Charlotte’s original design in red ink, showing exactly where the corruption had taken hold.
“She built defenses against this,” Delphine said, tracing the paths Charlotte had marked in her careful script. “Look. Every time Gideon tried to override a node, the network created a bypass. Preserved the original function while letting the corrupted version run parallel.”
“She was protecting future soul bonds,” Bastien realized. “Not just ours. Anyone who came after. Anyone who needed the network to preserve connection without enforcing it.”
The broken circle mirror sat in his palm, surprisingly heavy for its size. The glass was perfect—no distortions, no flaws. When he held it up, it showed his reflection clearly. Not the absence the tunnel mirrors displayed, but his actual face. Tired, worried, but present.
“This is the counter-broadcast tool,” he said. “Activated at the convergence point during Gideon’s sermon. It requires three elements.” He read from Charlotte’s instructions. “Truth spoken willingly. Celestial resonance to anchor the frequency. And physical presence at the altar.”
Delphine took the mirror from him and held it at arm’s length. The glass showed her reflection perfectly. Then she handed it back to Bastien. The glass went dark—showing nothing, the same absence as the tunnel mirrors.
“Both of us,” she said, understanding immediately.
They held the mirror together, their fingers overlapping on its frame. The glass cleared. Showed both of them—side by side, their reflections sharp and true.
“The risk,” Bastien said carefully, reading further in Charlotte’s instructions. “Gideon’s manipulated evidence will show simultaneously. Everything he’s compiled—every moment that looks predatory when viewed through his lens. You’ll see our entire partnership distorted into something ugly.”
“And I have to speak truth into the mirror while that’s happening,” Delphine finished. “Choose clearly while confronting the worst possible interpretation of everything we’ve done.”
“Yes.”
She set the mirror down on the altar carefully. “Then we’d better make sure I understand what I’m looking at.”
They practiced with the mirror. Delphine held it alone—her reflection clear and steady. Bastien held it alone—the glass went dark, showing nothing but empty space. Together, both of them visible. The network recognized their combined frequency. Acknowledged the bond that connected them. But required both of them to participate for it to function properly.
Eleven-thirty by Bastien’s watch. Time to leave, to prepare for tomorrow. To rest before they faced whatever Gideon planned to broadcast across every mirror in the city.
But as they gathered the journal, the drawings, the mirror—as they prepared to climb back to the surface—the tunnel mirrors activated simultaneously.
Every reflective surface in the chamber lit up with Gideon’s voice. “You found her little insurance policy. How touching.”
Bastien moved instinctively, positioning himself between Delphine and the nearest mirror. But the attack didn’t come from external threat. It came from the reflected light itself, coalescing into a figure that wore his face.
The doppelgänger smiled with his mouth. Stood with his posture. Spoke with his voice pitched just slightly wrong—the way a recording never quite captured the resonance of live speech.
“You preserve her, not protect her,” the reflection said. “Every choice you’ve made has been about controlling her path. You think because you call it care, because you dress it up in patience and distance, that makes it different. But look at the result. She’s here. In danger. In the dark. Because you brought her here.”