CHAPTER 129: A SHATTERED MIRROR

Eirin slowly opened her eyes, weariness clinging to her very being, her body heavy and leaden. The world around her was nothing but an endless, featureless white space, a vast, luminous void that stretched out in every direction, without beginning or end. The ground beneath her was a clean, polished white, reflecting the light in a soft, delicate glow. She stayed lying on the ground for a moment, her mind a blank, a state of peace that was a welcome relief from the pain and chaos of her last waking moments. It was a space she had already grown accustomed to seeing, a silent, comforting sanctuary in her subconscious.

"You’re awake," a voice, soft and melodious, cut through the quiet.

Eirin looked to her side, and her gaze landed on a beautiful woman. She was a vision of ethereal elegance, with long, straight black hair that cascaded beyond her waist like a silken waterfall. She stared at the teenage girl with those stunning, otherworldly amethyst eyes, her gaze so intense it felt as if it could pierce Eirin’s soul.

The woman’s pinkish lips, a soft, warm splash of color against her pale skin, opened once again. "You don’t seem surprised to find yourself here."

The teenage girl sighed. "Am I dreaming again?" The question was not born of fear, but of a quiet, unshakeable familiarity. This woman, this space, this entire experience was now a part of her reality, an undeniable truth she had to accept.

The woman tilted her head, a graceful fluid motion that was not quite human. "Hmm, we are indeed inside your consciousness—your mindscape, your inner world. You may call it as you see fit." Her voice, a melodic, soothing song, was so familiar that it caused a ripple of recognition to run through Eirin, a sense of having heard it before, though she could not remember where.

The familiarity was so strong that it caused Eirin to get up from laying on the ground, her body suddenly filled with a fresh, nervous energy.

Eirin’s forehead creased, a frown of concentration on her face. She looked at the mysterious woman from head to toe, a detailed, careful observation.

The woman was wearing a long, pure white gown that flowed around her like water, with sleeves that were a sheer, see-through whisper of fabric. Her skin, pale white like porcelain, seemed to glow with a faint, inner light, and her face, a masterpiece of serene beauty, shone like glass, without a single flaw or blemish.

"Are you... Nirvana?" The name, a word of finality and peace, fell from Eirin’s lips, a hesitant question.

The woman smiled, a breathtaking, radiant curve of her lips. She crouched and leaned to face Eirin, her eyes filled with a knowing warmth. "Correct. You remember my name. That is good. Very good." She turned around gracefully, as if making Eirin watch how beautiful and stunning she looked, a deliberate, mesmerizing display of her ethereal power.

"You must have been curious about my appearance... what I looked like in the real world—I feel as if you would."

Eirin’s forehead creased even further, her confusion deepening. "I... I was. But how did you know that? I never told you that," she said, her voice filled with a disbelieving awe. Her question caused the gorgeous woman to giggle.

Nirvana’s expression softened, her radiant smile fading into a gentle, more solemn expression. She knelt in front of Eirin, placing her hand on the cold, white ground. "It’s as if I’ve known you for a very, very long time," she said, her gaze looking straight at Eirin, seeing not just the girl, but the history of the girl, the echoes of her past lives and her family’s legacy. Her words, though comforting, made the teenage girl wonder why she continued acting as if she knew her, as if they were old friends reunited after a long, long journey.

Eirin scanned the vast, empty area, a sense of isolation filling her. There was nobody else but the two of them, a singular, quiet moment in the heart of her own consciousness. "How did you know me? How come I don’t know you? Do you also know my grandmother?" The questions poured out of her, an uncontrolled torrent of desperation for answers.

Nirvana smiled, a hint of something deeper, sorrow touching her eyes. "I do not bear all the answers to that. For my memories, just like a shattered mirror, are a mess of scattered fragments." She flipped her stunning, beautiful black hair, a graceful, almost dismissive gesture. "But who is this you call grandmother?"

Eirin’s forehead creased. "You mean her name?" Nirvana nodded. "It’s Eleanor Luxfield. That’s my grandmother’s name."

Nirvana froze. Her mouth, once curved into a gentle smile, was left open in a silent shock, and her eyes did not blink at all. Eirin saw the unnatural, almost-terrifying reaction of the woman, which left her confused. The serene, calm exterior had been shattered in an instant, revealing an emotional turmoil beneath.

It was until the woman let out a laugh, a loud, heartbroken sound that was an echoing mixture of grief and pure madness, that made Eirin baffled. "Why are you laughing? What’s so funny about my grandmother’s name?" she asked, her voice small and bewildered.

Nirvana lifted her gaze to what was above them, to the empty white space that was once so calming, but now felt like an empty prison. "Luxfield, huh? That is one thing I do remember, that cursed, noble name." Her demeanor changed completely, the calm, serene façade gone, replaced by a deep, simmering anger and a bone-deep sadness.

"I see... nothing has changed. Not a single thing." The final words, a cold, bitter whisper, were filled with a terrifying rage.

Eirin stood from her seat, a nervous tremor running through her. "Why are you acting all weird? And why do you react like that to my grandmother’s name? Are you her enemy?"

"Enemy? Quite different," Nirvana said, her voice now hard and brittle, like shattered glass. She stood and floated into the air, a movement that was no longer graceful, but filled with a sudden, violent, chaotic energy.

Suddenly without warning, fire, a brilliant, crackling torrent of white-hot flame, came gushing out of her hands, a display of unrestrained power. Nirvana threw them at the empty, white space, and with every burst of flame, the pristine whiteness shattered like ice, revealing a dark, churning, fiery abyss beneath.

Eirin backed away, her hands raised in a silent, terrified surrender, her body trembling in surprise and fear.

"Things have not changed at all. They still lie. They still corrupt. They still destroy." Nirvana’s tone made Eirin wonder why the sudden, terrifying change in her demeanor.

Eirin, overwhelmed by the terrifying power and the untamed emotion, sat back down, watching in horrified silence as Nirvana started to break down, the serene, calm woman she had shown before, a phantom of the past. Her body began to flicker, to waver, as if she were a faulty hologram, and deep sadness filled the space, a tangible, suffocating weight.

"Do you hate us?" Eirin asked.

"I do not hate you," Nirvana said, her voice now a strained, pained whisper, a sound of torment. "It’s the Luxfield."

Eirin tilted her head. "But I am a Luxfield. My name is Eirin Luxfield."

Nirvana looked at Eirin, her eyes wide with disbelief, as if she had not even considered that. She held onto her forehead, her fingers pressing into her pale skin, and her body began to waver more, to flicker like a dying candle. She walked back and forth, a manic, frantic pace, her emotions a chaotic maelstrom of confusion and grief, leaving Eirin even more confused than she already was.

"Right... it was not the Luxfield... not entirely," Nirvana said, her words coming out in a rush, an urgent confession. "It was the Ministry. The Ministry of Proprius—they ruined me. Their promises were all lies." Her eyes, a beautiful, luminous amethyst, started turning black, the darkness spreading across them like a disease, and a thin, crimson blood began falling out of her hands, not her own blood, but the blood of her victims, the ghosts of the lives she had taken.

"Those people... they used me. They called me a weapon... and they used me to kill all those other people. The Ministry of Proprius used my power to destroy anyone who defied them. Even those they just see a threat." Her voice, a heartbroken, pained whisper, was filled with a gut-wrenching regret.

"That friend of yours... the one who saved you, I can feel that he is one of them... his people, his ancestors, I killed them all. Their blood is on my hands."

Eirin froze, her body a statue of disbelieving horror. The words, the terrifying, impossible revelation, hit her like a physical blow.

"You cannot trust the Ministry. Not them. They are a corrupt, power-hungry organization that will do anything to achieve their goals. You must keep it a secret... you must not tell anyone else that you awakened your ability. If you do not wish to be like me."

Everything was too much for Eirin to comprehend. Her mind, a delicate, fragile thing, was being shattered by the terrifying revelations. "What—who are you?" she asked, her voice a small, terrified whisper. "Are you... perhaps... my mother?"

Nirvana chuckled, a soft, heartbroken sound that was laced with aching grief, but she immediately covered her mouth and cleared her throat, her laughter dissolving into a single tear. "No. I am not your mother." Her eyes, though still flickering with black, now held sadness. "I am only a part of your consciousness. Let us say I am the manifestation of your ability... your power... which was originally mine."

Eirin’s forehead creased after hot hearing what Nirvana whispered at the end.

"I apologize. My memories are all messed up. I do not know all the answers. You must learn of it yourself."

Nirvana smiled. "I took too much of your time. You should go now—and, right. Will you apologize to your friend for me? The Pæan. Tell him I am sorry for what happened to his people. I would love to do it myself, but I don’t own a physical body."