The fractures surrounded him.
Eight flickering versions of himself—like shadows cut from light.
They didn’t speak.
They didn’t need to.
Because they were all him.
> One that screamed in silence.
One that kissed Asha on a rooftop that never existed.
One that still carried a mother’s lullaby he never heard.
One who was a monster wrapped in apology.
One that never lit the Drag.
And one… that wanted to die quietly in his sleep.
Kade stood in the center, heart splitting down the middle.
The mirror world shook.
The Drag pulsed. A heartbeat, but wrong. Crooked. Sick.
And then it spoke.
> “Do not name her.”
“She is not yours.”
“She is not real.”
The fractures trembled. One dropped to its knees, weeping soundlessly.
Another cracked open at the chest—bleeding smoke.
Kade co
