Parallel Dreams
At the exact moment the voice echoed through Talis Station, Rhea jolted awake, breathless. The baby had been crying—but now she was silent, lying in her crib with wide, fixed eyes. Staring.
But not at Rhea.
At the cracked mirror in the corner.
Rhea stepped toward it slowly, a hand on her chest. Her heart was racing.
And then—she saw it.
The mirror flickered. Not a reflection.
A room.
Sterile. White walls.
A chair. A child.
And a younger version of herself, whispering something into the child's ear.
The baby cooed once, then blinked—and the mirror went dark.
Rhea collapsed to her knees, tears flooding her vision.
"What did I do?" she whispered. "What did I leave behind?"
In the other room, the TV turned on by itself.
Static.
Then a voice.
> "Rhea. You must return to where it began.
Or she'll become what they built her to be."