Episode-5

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Chapter Five: Through the Glass Veil

The night whispered.

The mirror stood silently in front of her, moonlight casting silver shadows across its surface. But it didn’t reflect her anymore. Instead, it shimmered faintly, like water waiting to be stepped into.

Krish stood beside her, eyes fixed on the glass. “It’s open.”

Aayna’s heart pounded. “What if I don’t come back?”

He turned to her, his expression unreadable. “Then I’ll come find you.”

She smiled, even though fear coiled inside her chest like smoke. “You always say things like that.”

“I always mean them.”

Taking a deep breath, Aayna reached out, her fingertips grazing the surface.

It rippled.

And then—like falling into a still lake—she was pulled in.

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The air changed.

Gone was the warmth of her room, replaced by a chilling breeze that smelled of dust and forgotten time. She landed softly, not on a floor, but something that felt like mist—solid, yet shifting under her feet.

She stood inside a vast hallway made of glass.

Reflections floated all around—floating fragments of memories trapped mid-motion. Some showed children playing. Others revealed arguments, tears, shadows… deaths.

She took a cautious step forward.

The first memory ignited before her like a flame.

A man in a black suit shouted at a young boy. “You’re weak! You think books will save you?”

Aayna recognized the boy—Krish. Younger. His face flinched at the harsh words, shrinking inward.

It hurt her to see.

She reached out, but the memory dissolved.

A voice echoed behind her.

“Every broken memory leaves behind a piece of the soul.”

She turned.

There stood Lady Elira.

Her long black gown seemed to dissolve into the floor, her eyes hollow yet strangely alive.

“You’ve entered the glass veil,” Elira said, circling her like a vulture. “Few do. Fewer leave.”

“I came to break your mirror,” Aayna said boldly, hiding the tremor in her voice. “To free Krish.”

Elira smiled. “You cannot free someone who doesn’t wish to leave.”

Aayna stepped back. “That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it?” Elira raised a hand, and the scene changed.

Now Krish stood in the mirror, alone in Room 9, staring at the fire. But this time, his face was blank. Empty. As if the life had been drained from him.

“He’s fading,” Elira whispered. “And when he vanishes completely… the mirror will claim you next.”

“No.” Aayna shook her head. “I won’t let that happen.”

Elira tilted her head. “Then prove it. Walk deeper. Face what even he couldn’t.”

And with that, she vanished.

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Aayna ran.

Through the shifting maze of memories, through cold corridors and glass-stained rooms. Her bracelet—the one her grandmother gave her—glowed faintly now, pulsing like a heartbeat.

She followed it.

Each room showed her more of Krish. His childhood loneliness. His brilliance in class. His laughter, rare but beautiful. His pain when his best friend disappeared. His terror the night he first saw the mirror move.

And then…

A room full of candles.

A teenage Krish knelt before the mirror, bleeding from his palm.

“I offer my memory,” he whispered. “If it means I can stop seeing the ones I love vanish.”

The mirror shimmered.

And accepted.

Aayna gasped. “He gave it willingly?”

“That’s why he’s trapped,” came a familiar voice.

She turned.

Krish stood behind her—not the present one, but the one from this memory, with pain written in every line of his face.

“I thought I could stop the house from taking anyone else. I didn’t realize… I was feeding it.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “But you still remembered me.”