STEP BROTHER DEAREST
Stepbrother’s voice clipped sharply, trying to correct—but the corrections were wrong, slightly off, pulling us out of sync.
And suddenly, I was alone. Not physically, but rhythmically. My anchor had slipped.
The walls around me became mirrors, reflecting my every doubt, my every fear. I saw myself failing, betraying the team, letting the conduits die, letting Elias win. A thousand versions of me emerged, laughing, screaming, accusing.
I faltered.
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Then Madison appeared in the reflection, her own shadow flickering like a flame in wind. “Anchor!” she shouted, her voice echoing across the mirrors. “Remember! *We hold this together!*”