In the twilight of the forgotten corridor, the mirror whispered secrets to those who dared to gaze into its depths.
A silhouette emerged, familiar yet distant, as if woven from threads of dreams and echoes of the past. "I am your shadow," it murmured, "cast in a world that knows not the light."
Can you remember, it asked, the faces you’ve seen reflected in me? The faces that are not your own but tell stories of lives not lived, paths not taken.
Each reflection was a haunting melody, a dance of endless possibilities within the locus of infinity. You touched the glass, and it rippled like water disturbed by the fall of a single star.
Here, in the voids, the boundaries of self blur and bend, revealing the myriad forms of existence. Will you step through, or are you content to linger in the echoes, forever haunted by what could be?