Aren didn't go home immediately.
He told himself it was because he wanted to "observe more."
That was only half true.
The real reason was simpler.
He didn't want to be alone with the mirror again.
Instead, he kept walking.
No destination. No plan.
Just moving through familiar streets that didn't feel as familiar anymore.
It was strange.
Yesterday, this same road meant nothing.
Today, every step felt like he was walking through something fragile.
Aren slowed near a small tea stall.
Steam rose into the air, curling in soft white lines. The smell of boiled milk and spices filled the space.
Normal.
Grounding.
He stopped there.
Not because he was thirsty.
Because he needed something that felt real.
"One tea," he said.
The vendor nodded without looking up.
Aren leaned slightly against the wooden counter, eyes scanning without being obvious.
People moved.
Talked.
Laughed.
Everything looked… fine.
"You look like you didn't sleep."
Aren glanced sideways.
A middle-aged man stood beside him, holding a glass of tea. Casual tone. No suspicion.
"…Didn't," Aren replied.
"Work?" the man asked.
Aren paused.
"…Something like that."
The man chuckled. "Yeah. Same for everyone."
Simple conversation.
Normal.
Aren almost relaxed.
Then—
The steam from the kettle stopped moving.
Not slowed.
Not changed direction.
Stopped.
Aren's eyes locked onto it.
The curl of white vapor hung in the air—
Frozen.
His breath caught.
Everything else was still moving.
People walking.
Voices continuing.
Sound normal.
But the steam—
Didn't move.
"…You seeing that?"
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
"Seeing what?" the man beside him asked.
Aren didn't answer.
He couldn't.
His focus was fixed.
A second passed.
Then the steam continued rising—
As if nothing had happened.
Aren stepped back.
No one reacted.
Not the vendor.
Not the man beside him.
No one else had seen it.
"…Okay."
His voice was quieter now.
More controlled.
This wasn't random.
There were moments—
Small breaks—
Where something didn't behave the way it should.
And only he noticed them.
"Your tea."
Aren blinked.
The vendor was holding out the glass.
He took it automatically.
Warm.
Solid.
Real.
He focused on that feeling.
The heat against his fingers.
The weight.
Something to anchor himself.
Because his thoughts were starting to drift somewhere dangerous.
If only I can see it…
Then why?
Aren took a sip.
Too hot.
He barely noticed.
"Careful," the man beside him said with a small laugh.
Aren nodded faintly.
Normal conversation again.
Normal reactions.
But underneath—
That question stayed.
Why him?
He left the stall a few minutes later.
Not calmer.
But clearer.
This wasn't panic anymore.
It was observation.
And observation meant rules.
He walked toward a quieter street.
Less noise.
Less distraction.
If something happened again—
He needed to catch it properly.
Aren stopped near a closed shop.
Metal shutter down.
Large glass panel to the side.
A reflection.
He stared at it.
"…Let's test this."
Slowly—
He raised his hand.
The reflection followed.
Perfect.
He moved closer.
Still normal.
Aren narrowed his eyes.
"Do it again."
He didn't know what he was talking to.
Himself.
Or something else.
For a few seconds—
Nothing happened.
Then—
A flicker.
So small it almost didn't exist.
The reflection's hand—
Moved first.
Aren's breath stopped.
It was only by a fraction.
But it was real.
The reflection had acted—
Before him.
Aren took a step back.
The reflection didn't.
It stayed still.
Watching him.
Not delayed.
Not following.
Just—
Watching.
Aren's heartbeat slammed harder now.
"…That's not how this works."
No response.
Of course not.
But the reflection—
Didn't fix itself this time.
It stood there.
Perfectly still.
While Aren moved.
A gap.
A disconnect.
Something was wrong—
On the other side.
Aren forced himself to breathe slowly.
"Okay…"
Think.
Don't panic.
He lifted his hand again.
The reflection didn't move.
"…So you don't copy me anymore."
Saying it out loud made it worse.
More real.
The reflection tilted its head.
Aren froze.
He hadn't moved.
"…No."
That—
Was not a glitch.
That was intentional.
Aren stepped back again.
This time—
The reflection smiled.
Just slightly.
Not wide.
Not exaggerated.
But wrong.
Because Aren wasn't smiling.
Cold spread through his chest.
For the first time—
This didn't feel like observation.
It felt like—
Contact.
"…What are you?"
The words barely came out.
The reflection didn't answer.
It just stood there.
Watching.
Then—
Slowly—
It raised its hand.
Mirroring him again.
Perfect sync.
Like nothing had happened.
Aren lowered his hand.
The reflection followed.
Back to normal.
Complete.
Seamless.
As if the last few seconds—
Never existed.
Aren stood there for a long time.
No movement.
No sound.
Just thinking.
That wasn't random.
That wasn't delay.
That wasn't a glitch.
That was something else.
Something that could—
Choose.
Aren exhaled slowly.
"Step two…"
His voice was steady now.
"…Don't assume it's harmless."
He turned away from the glass.
That was enough for today.
More than enough.
As he walked back—
He didn't look at any reflections.
Not windows.
Not mirrors.
Not even his phone screen.
Because now—
He knew.
Looking—
Wasn't passive.
It was interaction.
And whatever was on the other side—
Had just looked back.
End of Chapter 3