Akai Sekai: Mike (Eng. ver)

In this floor filled with mirrors, the man inside one of them kept speaking.

Gekidō — Well, what now? Cat got your tongue or what?!

Mute... mut... mu...

He was yelling so loud that even someone outside the building would've heard him. His voice echoed through every mirror.

Mike — No, no. It's just… I don't get it. You are me, right? So what are you doing inside a mirror?

Mirror... mirr... mi...

Gekidō — Damn, you think I know? I barely managed to show up! Ever since you got here, it's been a damn mess. You didn't hear a thing when we tried talking to you.

Gekidō stomped his foot.

A faint cracking sound echoed.

Mike looked around at the mirrors, checking to see if the sound had come from one of them.

He didn't see anything unusual.

Gekidō, meanwhile, hadn't even noticed the noise.

He began moving from one mirror to another, still talking.

Gekidō — And I'd really like to get the hell out of this damn mirror!

He slammed his fist against the glass. Another tiny crack appeared on one of the mirrors, but neither of them noticed—except for the voice, which had now gone silent.

Mike — What would you do if you did get out, like you want?

Want… wan... wa...

Mike wondered what Gekidō really had in mind. What did he actually want? What was the best thing to do? Help him? Leave him there and just find the door to the next floor? He kept thinking, but no answer felt right.

Gekidō — Do I ask you questions like that? Of course I'd take back control of our body!

He said it bluntly, with a tone full of resolve—he'd do anything to get out.

Mike, still deep in thought, murmured under his breath:

Mike — I see… So that's probably how I… No. I can't do that...

Can't… ca... c...

He grabbed his head in his hands, as if his thoughts were screaming, as if his own voice had started splitting inside his skull.

??? — You think you can hide behind your denials?

He flinched. That voice… It wasn't Gekidō. And it wasn't the usual voice either. It was his. But deeper. Older.

He stumbled back a little, but…

He raised his head again and spoke clearly, with determination.

Mike — No, that's not going to happen. I won't help you, and I sure as hell won't let you take over my body.

Body… bod... bo...

Gekidō glared at him. A dark anger started rising inside him.

The tension was growing—and with it, the heat of the room.

Gekidō — No?! You're such an idiot. You think you have a choice? You really think I won't find some way out of here? Who do you think kept you alive this whole time? That other loser who just talks?

He paused.

Gekidō — You call me a monster, but I'm the one who always protected you while you sat crying in a corner!

With the heat, the cracks on the mirrors began to spread rapidly. The creaking sounds grew louder.

Gekidō — What the hell is that noise?

Mike slowly backed away from the mirrors.

Mike — The mirrors… they're cracking…

Cracking…

Gekidō looked around.

The world he was in was breaking apart, as if he were part of the mirror—as if he came straight from Mike's imagination.

And in a fraction of a second, Gekidō vanished.

Poof.

All the mirrors shattered into a thousand pieces.

Some reflections seemed slightly out of sync, as if alternate versions of himself lived in them.

The room began to spin.

Then came an eerie silence.

There was no sound left.

A stillness that gave chills, as if the person he'd seen in the mirror had never existed.

Mike could only hear his own breathing.

Even with all the shards on the ground, he had a strange feeling that something was still watching him. A gaze he recognized.

Voice — That was just a part of you. A broken part. This needed to happen.

The voice broke the silence, speaking calmly. It was back—finally? Why had it gone quiet for so long?

Mike — You knew this was going to happen?

The echo had completely vanished. Only Mike's voice remained.

Voice — It's time to go.

The voice didn't reply further.

So he resumed walking, looking for the exit.

Each of his steps felt heavy, like he'd lost something.

A source of answers?

Who was going to answer the questions he still had?

He walked over the broken glass, but didn't feel a thing. The soles of his shoes were covered in shards, and more stuck with every step.

But he just brushed them off and tossed them behind him.

As he stared at the pieces on the ground, warped reflections occasionally flickered to life: a crying child, a muffled scream, a hateful stare.

Mike looked away. He didn't want to know if they were his… or Gekidō's.

Voice — Every broken mirror leaves a mark. Even if you don't see it anymore.

Mike didn't fully understand, but a chill ran down his spine.

At last, he reached the door. It stood before him—shattered into pieces, but still upright.

He looked at his reflection in the broken door, then grabbed the handle.

As he touched it, one of the broken fragments on the door trembled.

In that exact moment, he saw his eyes turn red—for a split second.

Mike stepped back. Then stepped forward again, unwavering.

Mike — Maybe I'm the one who's trapped… and he's the one who's free.

Behind him, a shard of mirror vibrated. A mouth formed on it for a brief instant.

Gekidō — You think it's over? This is just the beginning…