Frank unlocked the heavy bolts, the door groaning open. The boy, now thin and feral, flinched at the light.

  "Now that the spies are gone," Frank said, stepping into the darkness. "Let's play."

  He sat down, and he started interrogating him on everything. His family. His origin. The Sister.

  "Now, look at me," Frank said. "Tell me everything about your past."

  "Okay... okay. Just don't hurt me."

  Frank leaned in. "I can't guarantee that. But I can guarantee I won't kill you. If you talk."

  John nodded, his eyes wide. "Okay. I... I was a normal kid. A Type 1.” He looked down, his voice barely a whisper. "Normal trash."

  The light in the basement seemed to fade, and John's voice became the only thing.

  ***

  "John! Where is your father?" John's mother called.

  "I don't know, Mom," he said. "I think he went to sell again."

  "That man... he won't stop until the Agency finds us. Go. Go and find him."

  "Okay, Mom."

  John got out of the neighborhood. It was the kind of place mice didn't even want to live. He walked through the street, his feet kicking up dust, until he found his father selling drugs in an alley.

  "What are you doing here, son?" his father whispered, finishing his deal.

  "Mom told me to come and find you."

  "Okay, I'm coming home." His father dug into his pocket. "Hey. Take this. Go grab some sweets."

  He gave John two coins. They had a king's face on them.

  John moved through the streets, the coins heavy in his hand, until he was pushed to the side by a crowd. It was the royal ceremony.

  "Behold! His Majesty, and Her..." one of the guards announced.

  The crowd was whispering. "Look... they say Prince Daniel is here." "I hope he looks this way.

  They say he's beautiful."

  John stared. "That prince," he muttered to himself. "He has everything, doesn't he? Love, money, power..."

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  "Okay, let's go home, son," his father said, grabbing his shoulder.

  "Okay, father."

  John looked at Frank, his eyes dead. "I heard them fight, every day. My father was just trying to provide. He was fired from his job, you know. Just days before the incident.

  "Until the Agency found us.

  "They killed my mom on the spot. She tried to make me escape. They took my father... and me... to prison. They said people like us shouldn't be given light and should be killed.

  "They transferred me to a 'transforming' camp. They made us into two types: Type 2 and Type 3.

  Type 2 would become servants for the King and his family. They can move between mirrors, but they can't kill.

  Type 3 could do the same thing, but faster. And they could kill.

  "I was chosen to be a Type 3. And that... that was the day life smiled at me. I had money. I just went and killed people. Yes, most of them were civilians, but I did what I was told, and I got a lot of money.

  "I didn't look for my father. I didn't care if he died or if he was alive. What could I do? For a man who sells drugs to provide... such nonsense. He was the reason my mom was killed.

  "The day of the 'incident,' I was sent on a mission. In the alleys of the Black Room, a part of the Light City."

  "Okay... now where is this 'JJ' thing," John said to himself. He kept teleporting between alleys, and finally found JJ in a bar, drinking.

  Without thinking, John got out a shard of glass and threw it at him. But the man... he just moved a little, and the glass flew past him.

  "I know you are here to kill me, kid," JJ said. He didn't even turn around. "Come. We are living on borrowed time."

  John was surprised. Most of them cried, but he wasn't crying.

  "Look, kid," he continued, "you just have doomed us.” JJ took another sip.

  “The king and the queen all of those are going to be dead in seconds.” He laughed. “You have served nothing but your own grave.”

  JJ smashed his glass on the counter. “Bravo. You just killed the only people trying to stop the war. Good job, hero.“ He clapped.

  He slumped over the bar, tears leaking from his eyes. “There is nothing you can do.” He stared at him. “You have done enough already.”

  “But you... “ He raised his face. “You can run. Teleport from this world... to Earth."

  John's face paled, as if he aged fifty years in a second. "No," he whispered, shaking his head. "You're lying!"

  "WHY THE HELL WOULD I LIE TO YOU?" JJ roared.

  The chatter in the bar died instantly. Patrons turned on their stools, staring at the disheveled drunk screaming at a terrified kid. The air grew thick with tension.

  JJ saw them looking and lowered his voice, his chest heaving. "What would I gain?" he hissed, leaning over the counter. "Think, kid. Even your death won’t solve anything. We are doomed."

  He let out a ragged sigh, the fight leaving his body. "Doomed... you don't get it."

  JJ stared into his empty glass. "I can’t save my children. I can't save my parents." He looked up, his eyes locking onto John's. "But you can save yourself."

  “Go to earth that’s the only place you can ran to.”

  "Earth? What Earth?"

  "You know how they said the mirror can sometimes show you the 'other world'?"

  "Yes..."

  He snapped his fingers. "Go there. Try to find a way to get there."

  "But... one second. Why are you telling me all of this? And why aren't you trying to run with me?"

  JJ smiled, a sad smile. "You know that glass they give you? The one they said to never lose?"

  "Yes..." John nodded.

  "That's the key to the portal. Your ID. Anyone who doesn't have one can't be transported.

  JJ took John’s shoulder. “So go, son. Or you will die."

  ***

  "I did as the man said," John whispered to Frank. "I kept trying to run, until I saw a different reflection. It was a street. In California. It had... cars. I ran to that scene, which got me here.

  "I went to an orphanage. Some elders helped me. My current family adopted me. That's all I know, mister. So please, don't hurt me anymore."

  He looked down at his hands.

  "Even the piece of the glass... I lost it. I lost it when I killed the priest at the cathedral."

  “You said you lost your ID, right?” Frank asked.

  “Yes…”

  "Hm. Why did you continue killing people? You killed a man from a strip club. Why?"

  "No," John said, looking genuinely confused. "I didn't kill a man at the strip club. I was just bored. And killed the priests... who were in the cathedral.

  "I knew some of them were from the Mirror World. Type 0. Normal civilians, lucky enough to escape the war. But they kept talking about the Mirror World, like it was a normal thing to say. So, I killed them."

  Frank's face didn't change. "So, the Agency didn't tell you to kill them."

  "No," John laughed. "The Agency doesn't do anything except help us live in this world. And even if we kill everyone here, they wouldn't stop us."

  He looked at Frank. "What? Mister, I told you everything. And I didn't even kill the nun's father. That wasn't me."

  Frank was silent for a long time. He rubbed his face thinking about the crime scenes.

  He stood up from his chair.

  "So," Frank said, his voice a dead, flat whisper. "There are others."