Phantom Mirror Hunter

The rifle stock bore the dents I had made by knocking against it. Twenty years later, this “Lark” inexplicably found its way back to me.

Four hundred meters away, “I” held the same rifle, with the same dents in its stock. We pulled the triggers at the same time.

The world froze. A silver-eyed woman approached from behind me. “Congratulations, SIM-047. You’ve broken out of the sandbox for the seventh time.”

Code flowed through my veins. Forty-seven versions of “me” struggled inside the server. My father’s final video flickered: “You’re my son, not a program.”

The countdown read 00:22:18. I held the 0.22-millimeter lead pellet in my hand. It wasn’t a bullet. It was a key.

The world is a mirror. Whoever smashes it will see...

Their own reflection, standing behind the mirror with a gun raised.