Akai Sekai: Mike (Eng. ver)

A door resembling a mirror stood before him.A number was engraved at its center: 98.

Mike looked at himself in it.

The only thing he noticed was his dry skin, marked by the tears he had shed for so long.

Even though he knew that everything he had experienced on the previous floor was just a memory, it brought him no comfort.

On the contrary, his sadness felt even greater, even more present.

Voice? — You have to keep going and step inside, once again.

Mike — Why? To relive another painful memory? Or to face that Entity who tried to kill me again? It's pointless… none of this makes any sense.

He waved his arms, agitated, in front of the door.

He knew that, from the very beginning, he was the only one who could hear this voice. That speaking out loud was useless, and that this was nothing new.

But he kept doing it…

Mike — It's absurd. All of this is absurd.

He tried to calm himself.

Gathering his courage.

He finally opened the door.

A thin mist welcomed him, blinding.

Still, he stepped forward, uncertain.

After a few steps, the door slammed shut… and vanished.

Mike — What is this again? You can't see a thing.

Nothing… noth… no…

A loud echo amplified fragments of his own voice.

He flinched, but quickly realized it was just an echo.

Mike — False alarm…

Alarm… lar… ar…

Annoyed, he decided to stay quiet to avoid hearing the disturbing echo again.

Lamp in hand, he spun around, trying to see further than his nose.

Voice? — Be very careful. It could be a trap.

He ignored the warning and continued moving forward.

Suddenly, he bumped into something—hard.

Boom.

Mike — Ouch! What the—? There was nothing here!

Ouch… ouch… ou…Nothing… nothing… noth…

He couldn't hold back a scream. The sound echoed through the entire floor, stronger than ever.

In front of him, a massive mirror, the size of a wall.

But as he got closer… was it really a mirror? He couldn't see his reflection. Only fog, and a ground stained in red.

Mike — This mirror is weird.

Weird… eird… ird…

He inspected it more closely, then, as if fed up, punched it.

Voice? — Wait, what are you doing? Didn't you notice the echo? It was strange! If I were you, I'd stay away from that mirror.

He didn't listen. He kept hitting it. Then stopped.

??? — About time you stopped, you idiot! What's wrong with you, punching like that?

Mike stepped back abruptly.

The mirror vibrated. A shadow, shapeless at first, sketched a smile—too wide, too fixed.

A reflection?

In the mirror, shimmering slightly like warped by invisible heat, a man who looked like him appeared.

He stood still, but his gaze pierced through the surface.

Bright crimson eyes, almost supernatural, gleamed now and then with a golden flash. A seething rage seemed to push to escape. They didn't blink. They judged.

His vivid red hair, messy, fell in wild strands over his forehead. Their fiery tips still looked hot, as if forged in an inner blaze.

He wore a long, black coat, stiff, scorched by flames. The blood-red interior swirled at the slightest breath.

His hands, wrapped in charred bandages, bore the marks of repeated torment. His arms, bright red, and razor-sharp fingers still seemed to burn.

His chest revealed glowing red markings, pulsing slowly beneath his skin—like the veins of a living volcano. Ready to burst.

At his feet, heavy boots pounded the ground in silence.

He didn't move.

But the air in the mirror seemed to tremble around him.

As if his rage… was waiting.

Voice? — Oh no. He finally showed up… and of course it had to be through a mirror…

??? — Shut up! Nobody was talking to you.

BOOM.

A red flash ignited the entire floor.

The mist turned red. Then vanished.

All around Mike:

Mirrors. Everywhere. Red. Endless.

The heat was rising.

Voice? — You don't belong here. Return to the depths.

Gekidō — Oh… You too? Pretending you're protecting this kid? Hypocrite.

Mike — Who are you? What are you doing here?

To be or not to be…

??? — Me? Kid, you really forgot everything, didn't you? What an idiot! I'm Gekidō!

Mike took a step back.

He… understood.

Mike rubbed his temples. A dull headache started to rise. As if this reflection was inside his head.

Gekidō — I'm you, of course.

You… you… you…

Those last words echoed one final time.