Maruki closed his eyes for a moment, his pulse throbbing in his ears as the ancient god’s words slithered through his thoughts. When he opened them, he murmured, almost to himself, “...If he’d just see.”
As if responding to Maruki’s unspoken desire, the maze shuddered—and something shifted.
Down in the depths, Kou stopped, his breath ragged as the walls abruptly narrowed, pressing in closer. The bricks inlaid in moss and concrete, their unnatural seams writhing like veins beneath their surface. A path that once seemed clear twisted into confinement. There was nowhere else to go—save for a single object that manifested in front of him with an audible thrum.
A mirror.
It stood tall and unyielding in his path, its ornate silver frame weathered and cracked, as though it had been salvaged from some forgotten attic. The reflective surface rippled like liquid, unnatural and dark, though faint glimmers of Kou’s own image swam beneath its murky depths.
The walls around him groaned louder, closing further still, forcing his attention onto the mirror.
Above, Maruki’s bloodshot gaze remained fixed on the monitor, sweat trailing down his face as he watched. “It’s just a mirror,” he muttered, almost pleading with himself, as if trying to convince himself of its harmlessness. “It’s... just his reflection.”
But deep down, he knew better. This wasn’t his science. Azathoth’s corruption ran deeper than intention.
2/2
As if responding to Maruki’s unspoken desire, the maze shuddered—and something shifted.
Down in the depths, Kou stopped, his breath ragged as the walls abruptly narrowed, pressing in closer. The bricks inlaid in moss and concrete, their unnatural seams writhing like veins beneath their surface. A path that once seemed clear twisted into confinement. There was nowhere else to go—save for a single object that manifested in front of him with an audible thrum.
It stood tall and unyielding in his path, its ornate silver frame weathered and cracked, as though it had been salvaged from some forgotten attic. The reflective surface rippled like liquid, unnatural and dark, though faint glimmers of Kou’s own image swam beneath its murky depths.
The walls around him groaned louder, closing further still, forcing his attention onto the mirror.
Above, Maruki’s bloodshot gaze remained fixed on the monitor, sweat trailing down his face as he watched. “It’s just a mirror,” he muttered, almost pleading with himself, as if trying to convince himself of its harmlessness. “It’s... just his reflection.”
But deep down, he knew better. This wasn’t his science. Azathoth’s corruption ran deeper than intention.