Mad Hatter's Guide to Clearing The Game
Chapter 232: Ch230. Reflection

Chapter 232: Ch230. Reflection

The world felt quieter now.

Not safer. Not even close.

The creature was still out there, they both knew that. But after five nights without attack, after feeling the pulse beneath their skin grow stronger and more precise, Miles and Sarissa had begun to believe they could do more than just survive.

They could begin to move.

Miles rose with the light, stretching slowly beneath the tangled branches above. Dee chirped once, then leapt from his shoulder to perch on a nearby root, its tail flicking.

The little creature had grown noticeably in the past week, its scales darkening, its frame beginning to lengthen, to thicken. Its eyes, however, remained large, gleaming with attention and alert, watching everything.

Sarissa emerged from the lean-to a moment later, spear in hand. She winced slightly as she stepped onto her healing leg, but didn’t complain.

"West?" She asked, simply.

Miles nodded. The pulse he felt didn’t give him directions, but there was a subtle pull, an instinct deeper than logic, guiding him.

Not like a compass, but like gravity.

The forest to the west grew denser, the light dimmer, but it felt right.

They didn’t speak much as they moved. Silence had become habit, and it helped them listen, for the snap of branches, the flutter of wings, the too-still moments when the woods held their breath.

Miles kept the cracked club close, though it was more a symbol now than a weapon. Sarissa walked in a half-crouch, her spear balanced easily despite her limp.

They passed through narrow glades and fern-thick ravines, across streams that glittered with faint bioluminescence.

The land had an age to it. Even the air felt heavier, not in weight, but in memory, like walking through a place that had a record of its own.

It was Sarissa who spotted it first.

"There, through the roots."

There was a pool a few meters away.

Tucked between the roots of a massive tree, its trunk wider than a cottage and ringed with moss.

The pool lay still, perfectly circular, its surface glassy and dark. There were no ripples, no movement. Not even insects danced across it.

Miles stepped forward cautiously, and Dee hissed softly, then fell quiet.

The water reflected the canopy above. But more than that...

As soon as Miles’s reflection appeared in the water, he saw himself, but not just his face.

Not his bruises or dirt-streaked skin. But himself.

The self beneath the skin, a boy who had died once and been remade.

A man who had walked into Unique Dungeons and survived a god.

He gasped, and the image rippled.

Sarissa joined him beside the pool and looked down. Her breath caught on her throat.

"That’s not right." She murmured, frowning.

Because her reflection... Wasn’t moving.

It stared back at her, eyes bright with something sharp, something ancient. Its lips moved, but there was no sound.

Then, the pool went still again.

They didn’t touch it. Neither dared, but they sat nearby, close enough to see.

But far enough to run, if they had to.

Time passed strangely by the pool. Miles tried to speak to it, whispering questions under his breath, not sure who or what he was speaking to.

"What are you? What do you want from us?"

But there was no answer.

When he looked down again, though, the reflection showed not just him.

It showed flashes, scenes he didn’t remember living.

Him, standing on a cliff of black stone, surrounded by stars, Sarissa in an armor that shimmered like the sea, holding a blade of pure, almost black-red fire. Dee, much larger, wings half-spread, eyes like lanterns.

The small salamander now looked like...

A dragon.

He looked away, shaking.

"Miles. Look at this!" Sarissa said, holding up a piece of bark she had peeled from a fallen branch. The inside was carved, but not by her.

Symbols like those Miles had drawn around the fire, the night he felt the pulse deepen.

"This can’t just be coincidence." She let out a gasp. "Something’s drawing us in. Or calling us forward."

"Tir’Serene..." He whispered, nodding slowly.

Not a place, exactly. Not a god, either, but a presence within the planet. The world itself.

And it was watching them.

***

They made camp beside the pool that night, and for the first time, they didn’t build any traps. They didn’t prepare to fight.

Instead, they just watched.

The fire flickered softly. Dee curled beside Sarissa, who leaned back against a tree, half-asleep but still alert.

Miles sat by the water’s edge, legs crossed, breathing slowly, focusing on the pulse.

The warmth was stronger now, not just a thrum, but a pattern. Like a heartbeat laced with thought. It responded when he breathed evenly.

It slowed when he reached for anger, brightening when he felt hope.

And when he opened his eyes, the pool no longer showed his reflection.

It showed the forest. Not as it was now, but as it had been.

Taller, brighter trees. Creatures moving between the roots, strange and elegant. And then, a darkness, spreading like oil.

The System.

Not a god, not even a force of evil.

It was more like a structure, a cage. Wrapping the world in threads of order, claiming dominion over where there was potential.

Miles reached out, his hand trembling, and touched the water.

It felt warm, and the vision changed.

Now, he stood in a ruined tower. It was not the Professor’s. There were vines creeping through the stone, but in the center of the room was a pedestal. And on it, something flickered. A shape of light.

He saw his own hand reach for it.

Then, the vision broke.

He stumbled back, gasping.

"What did you see?" Sarissa was beside him in a moment.

"A place. A tower, and something waiting." He shook his head slowly.

"Can we find it?" Sarissa looked into the pool, then at him.

"I think we have to." He nodded.

***

The next morning, they left the pool.

They marked it with stone and ash, in case they needed to return. Miles could still feel its pull, but now, the current ran elsewhere.

Like a river changing course.

They headed north now, through thicker trees. The ground grew uneven, roots twisting like veins across the earth. And beneath it all, that pulse remained.

Deeper now. Not just a call anymore.

A promise.