I do, you do too: Who can do it better then?!

“What do you mean we’re dead? Can’t you do something like before?”

Behind us the beast stopped moving.

Its body shimmered in the dim light, shards of mirrored glass sliding and locking into place like puzzles pieces reassembling themselves in reverse. With a sound like breaking glass with a piece of stone, it’s torso split cleanly down the middle —birthing a second one.

Now two of them stood in the tunnel.

They both stared at us, their long fingers flexing like they were tasting the air. Their faces—if you could call them that—shifted like broken cards being shuffled, cycling rapidly through our own facial expressions.

The second creature tilted its head changing into my face completely.

It wasn’t the fact that it wore my face that disturbed me—it was how it wore it. The smile it chose was far too wide, something I’d never done in my life. It stretched my features unnaturally across a mask of shimmering glass.

It was weird.

“Woah, Ash,” Keiji said, eyes wide. “That’s what you look like? I don’t know why you cover your face....you look kinda good.”

Was that supposed to be a compliment?

The first creature shifted, snapping into a near-perfect replica of Keiji

Both took a step forward in unison.

The sound of glass scraping stone filled the tunnel like a hundred blades dragging across marble.

“Please tell me this is the part where I wake up from a dream,” Keiji whispered.

We had nowhere to run. If I were alone, I could escape. But with Keiji here, I couldn’t risk it. Besides I had to bide my time and wait for them to make the first move. For all I knew they could have been friendly…glass copy-things.

My copy, suddenly lunged at me with terrifying precison —each swipe cutting the air exactly where I’d move like it was reading my mind. I ducked again beneath a swipe that could have taken my head off and countered with a hard shovel strike —but it did the same motion, slipping back with the exact angle I’d just did.

I was fighting a smarter version of myself.

Keiji’s copy was another story. Its movements were erratic and sloppy, just like the real Keiji. It stumbled with every third step, struck out too wide or too late, and even tripped over its own legs once. Keiji was in no real danger.

Then something changed.

My copy’s hands shimmered as it formed into the shape of a shovel, identical to mine.

“They’re mimicking our movements,” I realized aloud.

If that’s so, I wonder how it would react….

“Hero!” I shouted, already moving. I rolled away from my copy and sprinted toward Keiji’s. My pack thudded to the ground as I vaulted up.

I had to confirm something about these copies. Basically, see how much they could truly learn from us.

BAM!

I struck Keiji’s copy.

Glass exploded outward in a spray of fractured light, shards skittering across the mirrored floor. Keiji sat on the ground, wide-eyed and gasping for air.

“Thanks, Ash,” he panted.

“No problem,” I muttered watching the shards.

But my copy didn’t attack. It stood perfectly still, its mask tilting in slightly watching.

Then the shattered pieces of Keiji’s copy began to move, piece by piece reassembling with a terrible crack.

“It’s getting back up!” Keiji shouted, scrambling to his feet.

“No kidding.” I walked back toward my dropped pack slowly.

I left it there on purpose to see what my copy would do. But when I took the pack, it didn’t do anything.

With that, I had realized three things.

One: these creatures weren’t dungeon beasts.

Two: this wasn’t a dungeon.

Three: they couldn’t copy everything about us.

“Why isn’t yours attacking?”

“Because its waiting,” I replied.

“Waiting for what?”

“For us to make the first move,” I said grimly. “It’s what I would do”

Keiji swallowed. “They’re mimicking us…”

Yeah. I got that already, detective.

But something was still missing. Something I couldn’t connect yet.

Suddenly, the tunnel behind us shifted. The glass walls constricted, narrowing into a hallway that funneled us forward. The air grew cold, the walls humming with tension.

The two copies advanced.

Keiji clutched his sword tightly, knuckles white. “Uh, Ash? It’s not stopping.”

“They’re learning,” I said. “Adapting.”

Keiji’s copy was no longer falling on itself, it made cleaner swings. Each miss a little closer than the last. Mine was getting stronger, faster…deadlier. It struck my arm grazing it slightly.

The air grew colder, heavy with the sound of clicking glass. We had to get out of here. There had to be some trick to defeating this, maybe those masks with our faces.

“Hero,” I said gripping the shovel tighter, “listen carefully. If we keep fighting them, they’re going to figure us out and we’ll be done.”

“Okay. If you have a plan, now’s the time Ash.”

“We find a way out.”

But the words had barely left my mouth before my copy lunged, swinging the shovel in a perfect mirror of my grip. I sidestepped the strike, ducked low and swept its legs out from under it, smashing the shovel down on its chest. It shattered like brittle glass.

Keiji yelped as his copy came at him, jagged hands reaching for his throat. I tried to move to help him but he swung his sword instinctively, splitting it down the middle. breaking it into pieces.

Then the floor shuddered.

The walls convulsed inward—click-click-click—locking into a glass cube. And just for a moment, I caught a glimpse of something that answered the questions I had about this place.

And then I saw it.

Just for a split second.

A faint shimmer—there, in the upper right corner of the mirrored cube. A glowing rune, that got hidden behind a hair-thin pane of glass immediately.

My breath caught in my throat.

This wasn’t just mimicry. It was a spell.

Keiji’s copy reformed first, stepping out of the shards and shaping a jagged sword from its right hand.

“Oh shit!” Keiji shouted, locking blades with it in a violent clang that echoed like thunder.

My copy followed a second later.

This time, it threw its shovel like a spear —no hesitation, no wind-up. It ricocheted off the walls like a skipping stone on water, bouncing toward me at deadly speed. I ducked, barely managing to catch it on the flat of my shovel. The force jolted through my arms, numbing.

Then it caught the shovel mid-bounce, used the momentum to leap—and crashed down hard.

I rolled as my copy’s shovel smashed the floor, cracks spiderwebbing out from the impact. I used the shards flying off as a cover and rebounded off the wall and slammed my shovel into its head from behind.

CRACK.

Its face exploded in shards.

But the copy was already reforming, glass sucking inward, face realigning with mechanical precision.

“We can’t just keep breaking them,” I muttered, scanning the walls. “There has to be some kind of anchor…a tether….something binding the spell, a focus…”

Keiji grunted as he split his double in two again. “That’s a great idea, Ash!” he yelled, panting. “Maybe think a little faster before we get shredded to pieces?!”

I grinned at him. Keiji was improving. The way he took down his copy just now had a bit of technique. I could see his stance was tightening, his swings more calculated.

He was learning. Fast.

But so were our enemies.

I scanned the mirrored cube again. Walls. Ceiling. Floor.

This place was like a combat loop sealed inside a warded cube, powered by a recursive spell logic. It shifted everytime we got the upper hand, like it was resetting the rules.

But the thing with spells of this nature, there is always a way out in the spell itself. 

The loop was clear enough, we destroy the copies, they get back up; we run, it closes up.

I had to try something else, something new it couldn’t anticipate and I had one chance before it reset the rules again.

“Hero!” I barked, heart pounding. “I’ve got no choice.”

Keiji stumbled, parrying. “What do you mean ‘no choice’?!”

I reached over my shoulder, unstrapping the worn leather pack and tugged the drawstring loose.

Keiji’s eyes widened. “Is that a weapon we can use?”

I exhaled.

“You wanted to know how I killed that spinehound, right?” I said grinning. "Then watch closely."