Chapter 31. Trial (2)
His fists pummeled the mirrors—one after another—shattering them into glimmering fragments that danced like dying stars in the void.
But no matter how many he destroyed, more appeared. Each one came with a new scene, a new truth, a new mockery.
A barrage of lives he never lived.
A montage of fates that all wore his face.
In one, he was a white-haired young man, radiant and righteous, standing tall against a behemoth—fighting for the world as its beloved hero. Crowds cheered. His sword gleamed with virtue.
But the scene twisted. Shifted.
The same "hero" stood over the butchered corpses of his party, hands soaked in their blood. Eyes dead. A sinister contract etched into his skin, demonic runes glowing.
Another mirror formed.
An orphan this time—Cassius, ragged and thin, rummaging through trash for scraps. Desperate. Alone.
He found a loaf of bread.
But it wasn't his.