He stood in front of the mirror.
Same face.
Same tired eyes.
But something was… off.
His reflection blinked a second too late.
He froze.
Leaning in, he stared at the mirror—trying to catch it again.
And there it was.
His reflection was delayed.
"No, no, no…this cannot be…." he whispered.
The atmosphere around him altered.
The mirror's surface began to ripple—like water.
His own face stared back, but the expression wasn't his anymore.
Suddenly
"Ask her about 12:12."
The napkin's words echoed again.
He pulled out his phone and opened the photo of the girl—taken secretly that day in the clock shop.
He zoomed in.
Behind her, on the shelf—
a diary.
Its title:
"Cycle 7 – Anaya."
"Anaya…" he whispered.
He didn't know why, but that name unlocked something.
Like a key turning in a door that had been sealed for centuries.
His head throbbed.
Flashes hit him—fragments of loops past.
• A train station.
• A ring box.
• Rain.
• Blood.
• A goodbye that never finished.
And her voice again—
"You left me here… in every loop."
The mirror cracked.
One single line, right down the center—
splitting his reflection in half.
On the left, the man he saw every day.
On the right…
Another version.
Wounded. Crying. Screaming without sound.
He stepped back, heart pounding.
"What's happening to me?" he said out loud.
And then, for the first time,
the reflection spoke—but not with lips.
Just one thought, carved directly into his mind:
"Find her… before they reset you again."
The lights flickered.
His phone screen went black.
His ears rang.
A loud ticking filled the room.
And then—
Silence.
Outside the mirror, everything was still.
But inside the glass…
he was gone.