The descent ended not with the roar of flame or the crash of stone, but with silence.

A silence so heavy it pressed against their ears, as though sound itself had chosen to sleep.

They stood at the threshold of Shadira, the Mirror Labyrinth.

The ground was glass, cold, flawless, yet fractured with hairline cracks that spiderwebbed in every direction. Each shard caught them in broken fragments, reflecting pieces of faces, hands, weapons… never whole.

Above stretched a sky that was neither day nor night, only an endless twilight that refused to change.

Here, air did not move. No wind, no warmth, no breath of life. Only stillness.

The walls rose high around them, seamless planes of mirror. But these were no ordinary reflections. Each surface showed not who they were… but who they might have been.

A warrior without scars.

A king without regret.

A lover never lost.

A child never abandoned.

The farther they walked, the more the images twisted. Futures denied poisoned into visions of wasted potential.

The labyrinth did not wound the flesh. It devoured the will.

Taufik glanced at his companions. Even Lembuswana's scales dulled under the weight of what might have been.

Basukhi's fire dimmed, sparks guttering as if suffocated.

Kl'lara's pale eyes lingered too long on a mirror where she was not a spirit of death, but something radiant, something mortal… something she could not name.

And still... no ruler.

Like the Hollow Citadel before, the Sin of Sloth did not stir.

Belphegor's absence was not mercy. It was cruelty.

For here, the labyrinth itself was the tormentor, a prison that needed no warden.

Step by step, the party pressed on. Their reflections whispered in voices eerily like their own:

"Why struggle? Why fight? Look at what you've lost. Look at what you'll never be"

But they pressed on. They had survived the poisoned lies of Zaqqumire. This was nothing compared to that.

"…Do not listen," Taufik said, his voice steady. "All of this is an illusion"

Lembuswana snorted, the sound sharp in the still air.

"Do you think we are that weak?" His wings rattled against the narrowing mirrors, irritation bleeding into his tone.

"I remind you," Taufik replied evenly, "Sloth's domain works differently. Like Mammon before him, he may not appear. But never assume absence means safety. Keep your guard. We don't know what waits for us"

"Understood, my lord," Kl'lara said softly, though her gaze flicked once more to the mirror that showed her laughing beneath the sun.

They continued. Their footsteps rang hollow, as if the glass beneath them swallowed sound instead of carrying it.

The reflections grew stranger.

Sometimes their mirrored selves walked a step too slow. Other times too fast. Sometimes their doubles stopped altogether, watching with smiles that didn't belong to them.

"Cheap tricks," Lembuswana muttered, but his voice lacked its usual fire.

"Not cheap," Kl'lara whispered. Her voice trembled. "Cruel"

Basukhi's reflections multiplied into countless versions, dragons crowned in gold, dragons shackled in chains, dragons slaughtered in pits of blood.

His lips peeled back in a low growl. "... He doesn't need to appear. We're already suffocating in his domain"

Taufik stopped. His eyes swept the mirrored maze. Everywhere he looked, illusions of himself stared back: versions who had chosen differently. Versions without shadow. Versions without burden. Versions who were never hated, never feared.

But he did not flinch.

"…Keep walking," he said. His voice was iron. "Sloth wants us to stop. That's how he wins"

The path ahead rippled like water. The mirrors shivered. Their reflections stepped out of sync, first delayed, then too fast, then smiling when they were not.

And then, from everywhere and nowhere, a voice drifted.

Lazy. Endless. Heavy as the silence itself.

"Why move forward? Why fight? You've already lost more than you'll ever gain…"

"Who?" Taufik asked sharply.

The voice came back, still slow, still languid, but now tinged with a faint amusement.

"Who? You invade my home and still ask who?"

"Your home?" Taufik echoed. Only one name formed in his mind. "…Belphegor?"

"Who else?"

"Why are you here?"

"Why shouldn't I be?"

"I thought, like Mammon, you would remain absent"

A lazy chuckle rolled through the maze, shaking the mirrors until ripples distorted their reflections.

"Lucifer did call us to gather at Hell's core… but why should I move? Why should I answer? I am too lazy"

The labyrinth shifted. One mirror cracked, not from force, but from sheer disinterest. Glass slumped like melting ice, dripping into a dark puddle that spread across the floor.

From within it, a figure rose, or rather, lounged, as if he had been there all along.

Belphegor.

He reclined upon a throne cobbled from broken mirrors, but his posture was anything but regal.

His head lolled against one hand. His crown tilted askew. His half-lidded eyes gleamed with a boredom so profound it was insulting. His robe trailed like spilled ink, soaking into the mirrored floor.

"…Really?" His voice drawled, words stretched thin by yawns. "You clawed your way through rage, through lies, through fire… all that struggle… just to end up here?"

The mirrors behind them quivered, replaying their every failure, every path not taken. The echoes of could have been laughed, soft and cruel.

Belphegor stretched like a man half-woken from a nap. His yawn cracked the air itself, and the labyrinth shook.

"…Pathetic," he muttered, his tone not rising above a bored sigh. "You should lie down. Rest. The World won't miss you. No one will"

His eyes, half closed, but sharp as knives lifted toward Taufik.

"…You especially. Darkness is wasted energy"

He waved one hand carelessly.

And every reflection of Taufik slumped lifeless, collapsing into puddles of shadow that bled across the mirrored floor.

"What do you intend to do?" Taufik asked, his tone calm but edged with caution.

"Me?" Belphegor's reply came as lazily as ever, his half-lidded eyes barely lifting to meet Taufik's. "…Nothing. What do you want me to do? No, wait... wrong. What do you want to do, O defiant one? Or should I call you The Rewriter? The Will's last legacy, perhaps? Ah~ whatever…" He waved his hand dismissively, "…you've too many titles, and it's exhausting just saying them one by one"

Taufik's eyes narrowed. "What do you want?" His voice dropped low, firm. XDo you want to fight?"

"Fight?" Belphegor yawned, leaning back as if even standing was too much effort. "Please… just move along. I am unwilling, so why should I waste strength fighting you?" His voice was dripping with indifference, but then, like a shift in the wind, his tone grew quieter... sharper. "But tell me, defiant one… do you even realize where you are?"

Taufik frowned. "What do you mean?"

Belphegor's lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. "Look behind you"

A ripple of unease ran through Taufik's chest. He turned.

Where Kl'lara, Lembuswana, and Basukhi should have been, standing steady, watching over him, there was nothing. Empty air. The ground where they stood looked untouched, as if they had never been there at all.

"…This…" Taufik's voice faltered for the first time, his brows furrowing.

"Surprised?" Belphegor's lazy voice oozed through the silence like smoke. "Now… look around you"

Taufik's eyes darted around. The walls around him, no, not walls, mirrors, stretched endlessly, like a labyrinth of glass reflecting realities not his own.

And inside each mirror, countless visions unfolded, distorted images of Kl'lara, Lembuswana, and Basukhi.

Some versions stood proud and triumphant. Others are broken, defeated, or twisted into monstrous forms.

In one mirror, Kl'lara bled out beneath a burning sky. In another, Basukhi turned his fangs on Taufik himself. In yet another, Lembuswana roared against unseen chains, his body torn apart.

A chill ran down Taufik's spine. The air itself seemed heavier, every breath dragging like chains around his lungs.

Belphegor chuckled softly, the sound languid yet oppressively heavy, like velvet smothering stone.

"Tell me, Rewriter… This is the result of you trying. So why should you? They became this way because you kept struggling, moving… wanting"

"Cut the bullshit! Bring them back or should I kill you first-"

"Kill me?" Belphegor's voice slid over Taufik's words before he could even finish, unhurried, bored, yet unshakably certain. "Please, do so. I'm tired of living. But killing myself… is also tiring. So yes, I'd truly appreciate it if you did"

Belphegor's smile barely shifted, but his words dug like hooks. "But… can you?"

Taufik's eyes narrowed. "What are you-"

"Can you even move from there?" Belphegor drawled.

Taufik tried to take a step forward. His foot lifted, but his body screamed against the motion as though the air had thickened into tar.

His chest constricted. His legs trembled. His muscles obeyed, but the world itself resisted.

"I… huh?"

Belphegor tilted his head, eyes half-lidded, almost pitying. "Why struggle? Why move? Then you'd just end up like the others… another failure collapsing under the weight of your own effort"

Taufik's gaze darted back to the mirrors, visions of Kl'lara, Lembuswana, and Basukhi flickering endlessly.

In each reflection, they were twisted, broken, stagnant, trapped in some loop of despair, half-asleep, half-dead, their will smothered under invisible chains.

The pressure deepened. His arms felt like they were sinking into unseen mire, every heartbeat slowing, dragging.

"This…" Taufik hissed, his voice trembling.

Belphegor raised one languid hand, almost theatrically, and his lips curved into a lazy, mocking smile.

"This is… Sloth"

....

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..

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