Chapter 3 The Lighthouse Knows

Midnight in Duskhaven wasn't silent - it was *listening*. Felix and Gus crept through the forested path behind the abandoned Vale estate, flashlights flickering like nervous eyes. The beam from the lighthouse cut through the fog at regular intervals - a steady pulse, like the town's ancient heartbeat. "Why are we going to the lighthouse again?" Felix whispered. "Because it's the highest point in town," Gus replied. "If something supernatural's happening, it's either *coming from* there or *going to* there.

Also, Madam Elira said, and I quote, 'That's where the shadows stack their chairs at the end of the world.'" Felix blinked. "That's not helpful." "No, but it's poetic." The lighthouse loomed ahead, surrounded by overgrown hedges and rusted chains. It hadn't been active for years - until last night, when it suddenly powered up during Veronica's disappearance. Felix pushed open the iron gate. It groaned like it was in pain. "Okay," he said, "if we get pulled into a mirror dimension and have to battle alternate versions of ourselves, I want it on record that mine is *not* allowed to be cooler than me." Gus grinned. "Mine can be hotter. I've made peace with that." They entered. Inside, the air smelled of salt and electricity. The spiral staircase stretched upward into the gloom. Felix's flashlight hit the base of a plaque on the wall. He brushed off dust and read aloud: > "To light the truth, even when truth burns." "That's either inspiring," Gus muttered, "or the motto of a cult." They climbed. Each step echoed like a countdown. At the top, the lamp room was intact - humming softly. Machinery that hadn't worked in years now glowed with steady light. But the real surprise was what lay at the center of the floor: a circular mirror, polished and clean, with no dust, no smudges, no reflection. Felix approached it slowly. "Gus... it's not reflecting us." "Yeah," Gus said, stepping back. "I *hate* that." The mirror pulsed. For a moment, Felix thought he saw Veronica - not in a wedding dress, but in the red gown from the play, arms stretched out, mouth open in a scream - and then she was gone. He reached for the glass. It rippled. Gus grabbed his shoulder. "Wait." Felix froze. A voice echoed around them - female, warped, familiar. > "Do not trust your eyes. > > They are hers now." Felix turned to Gus. "Did you hear that?" "I was *hoping* it was just in my head." The mirror flashed. Then the room was plunged into darkness. --- Felix didn't remember falling. He only remembered landing. Not on stone - but on grass. Cold, soft grass. He opened his eyes. He was in Duskhaven - or something *like* it. Everything was off. The sky was dark red. The buildings leaned at odd angles. The trees didn't move with the wind - they breathed. "Felix?" Gus's voice was nearby. He turned. Gus was beside him, pale, wide-eyed. Still holding a flashlight, though it barely pierced the gloom here. "Where *are* we?" Felix whispered. Gus looked around. "I think we're inside the mirror." Felix frowned. "That's not a thing." "Well, we are *definitely* somewhere that breaks physics and possibly a few fashion laws. Look at that guy." They turned to see a man in the distance - dressed in a tuxedo jacket and swimming trunks, walking backward into a tree. The tree *swallowed* him. Felix exhaled. "Okay. Mirror world." They started walking, sticking close together. As they moved through the warped reflection of Duskhaven, they saw fragments - people they recognized, twisted. A child skipping rope with shadows. An old woman peeling pages off books to feed a bird made of teeth. And always, somewhere just at the edge of vision - *Veronica.* Not quite real. Not quite gone. Felix reached out toward her image again and again, but she dissolved like smoke. Then they found the theater. Or what used to be the theater. Here, it was a cathedral of mirrors. Dozens of them, stacked and spiraled like thorns around a central stage. Felix stepped forward. The mirrors reflected scenes from his life: him and Veronica at seventeen, dancing under a bridge; the day he left town without saying goodbye; a flash of her crying - or maybe laughing - on a pier he didn't recognize. One mirror cracked as he passed. Another showed a version of him in a tuxedo, holding Veronica's hand... while blood trickled from her mouth. "This is her," Felix whispered. "Her mind. Her memories." Gus nodded. "And someone - or *something* - is using them against her." From the stage, a figure emerged. It wore Veronica's face. But not her eyes. They were hollow. Empty. Like the surface of a black lake. "You left," it said, voice layered with static. "You ran away." Felix stepped forward. "You're not her." "No," the Hollow Guest said. "But she let me in. She believed in reflections more than reality. She wanted to be seen." "You *stole* her." The Hollow smiled. "She was already fading." Then it lunged. --- The fight wasn't physical. Not exactly. The stage became a memory - Felix's own. The day he said goodbye without saying anything. The look on her face when he didn't call. The regret that curdled into silence for years. But he didn't run this time. He faced it. "I was scared," he shouted. "Not of her. Of what it meant to matter." The memory cracked. Light poured in. The Hollow screamed - and Veronica stepped out from behind it. The real Veronica. She looked at Felix with wide, tear-brimmed eyes. "You came back." He nodded. "Of course I did." The Hollow turned, shrieking, its face splitting into a dozen mirrored shards. Veronica touched Felix's hand. Their reflections - *true reflections* - appeared in every mirror at once. And the Hollow shattered. The mirror world collapsed around them. --- Felix woke in the lighthouse. So did Gus. So did Veronica. She blinked against the real-world light, wrapped in Felix's coat. Bruised. Cold. Alive. "Did I miss the wedding?" she rasped. Gus snorted. "Girl, you *were* the wedding." Felix pulled her into a hug. This time, she didn't vanish. They looked out the window together. Duskhaven was still there. Still strange. Still theirs.