"Turn back? What are you talking about? This is energy—powerful energy!" The inverted-color figure spread his hands and flashed a strange smile at Jack Young. In his palms, endless black mist condensed, like flickering black flames. "Energy itself isn't right or wrong; it's people who decide that. Guns and cannons aren't right or wrong either—it's the hand that wields them that's at fault. Isn't that what you've always believed? Isn't that your moral code? So, what now? Are you going to contradict yourself?"
Jack Young looked at his mirrored self with a complicated expression. Suddenly, he took a deep breath, his eyes sharpening as he raised both hands and spread his fingers wide. As his thoughts churned, his mindscape began to shake and roar—waves of invisible ripples resonated outward, pressing in on the inverted-color figure.
"Hahaha, what are you trying to do—kill me?" The inverted-color figure spread his arms wide, completely unafraid. "Don’t be silly. What do you think I am? Some external monster, or a split second personality? Nope! I am you; I’m part of what makes you, you. Remember when you were in so much pain you’d talk to yourself in the mirror? I’m that guy in the mirror. What I say is really what you say."
"Even so, so what?" Jack Young’s main consciousness stared coldly. "I can’t keep talking to a mirror forever, and I can’t stay trapped in the layers of memory. That’s why I have to shatter this mirror!" With his thought, an even stronger force surged toward the inverted-color figure. The edges around him began to resemble a mirror’s frame, and cracks started to appear on the glass.
But the figure still wasn’t panicking. He just looked over, his gaze a mix of mockery and a hint of pity. "Shatter it? Go ahead, smash away. But what then? You’ll go back to being cold and unfeeling, ignoring everyone’s kindness? Wouldn’t that just make you another heartless jerk?"
Jack Young’s gaze flickered at those words, and his movements slowed. He hesitated.
In the inverted-color figure’s black-and-white eyes, a trace of sadness appeared. "You’re strong, your willpower is enough to split off thoughts, ideas, emotions, even memories—lock them away, seal them, or destroy them. But then what? Tell me, what about Princess Embroidered Jade? When your heart was incomplete, you could pretend you didn’t know or feel anything. But now? Still going to lie to yourself? Are you just going to brush her off with a lame ‘I only see you as a friend’? You bastard!"
"Uh..." Jack Young was finally stunned.
"What you never got back, you can’t give away again. You bundled up the concept of 'love' and all those memories and stuffed them into me, then locked me up—so you could ditch all the baggage and forget everything you wanted to forget. Now you can smile and embrace a world without heartbreak—but you left me trapped in endless cycles!" The inverted-color Jack Young suddenly grew agitated, pounding on the mirror’s frame, glaring at Jack Young through gritted teeth.
"You’re rational, mature, carefree, and transcendently cool—you show the world your best side, but dump all your weakest, most childish, most sensitive stuff on me!" He struggled and roared, black tears suddenly streaming from his eyes. He choked out, "You smile at the world, but I can only cry at myself! Think I’m fake? I’ll tell you—your big smile is just as fake as I am!"
Jack Young’s hands began to tremble. The surging power faded as he stared deeply at his inverted reflection in the mirror—suddenly, he couldn’t bring himself to strike.
He knew that everything the other said was true.
That was also himself—a mass of emotions forcibly split off from his own being.
"If you really think you’re totally justified, if you really believe you can just fix everything once and for all—then answer me this." The inverted-color figure’s voice grew soft. "You used to love karaoke—why’d you stop singing?"
"Uh..."
"You used to love dancing—why’d you stop dancing?"
"I..."
"You used to be full of spirit and drive—why did you end up like this?" The inverted-color figure blurred for a moment, then took on a new appearance. "Remember this look?"
Jack Young shuddered. He knew that face in the mirror all too well: perfectly slicked-back business hair, a sharp suit and stylish tie, glasses perched on his nose—he looked every bit the successful businessman. But look at those tired, numb eyes, that growing belly, that spine held straight but missing any real spirit.
Beneath the standardized business aura was a hollow, decadent heart.