There once lived a young researcher named Yan, who had devoted his life to exploring the unknown. His particular obsession was the question: what lies beyond our world? He didn’t believe in the supernatural, but he knew that the universe was far more complex and mysterious than it seemed. Yan invented a device—"the mirror of the unseen"—which, according to his calculations, would reveal what was hidden from human sight.
When he activated the device, Yan saw not a distorted reflection of his room, but something entirely different. Beyond the mirror was an endless landscape, dotted with strange geometric forms floating in the air. In the distance, he could make out figures moving slowly, as though unaware of his gaze. Yet the strangest part was that everything Yan saw felt both familiar and utterly alien. He realized—this was not just another world, it was his own mind, projected into physical space.
The figures in the mirror began to approach, and as they drew nearer, Yan understood that they embodied his fears, dreams, and hopes. They didn’t threaten him, but their presence was heavy. Each movement they made resonated within him like an echo in his soul. Suddenly, one figure came close enough for Yan to see its face—his face, but older, wiser, and... sadder.
"You’ve always sought the truth, Yan," the reflection spoke. "But you must know that truth is not always what you imagine. Sometimes, it cannot be seen—it can only be felt."
The reflection extended a hand through the mirror, inviting Yan. He realized that this moment wasn’t just an encounter with the unknown, but a choice. To go forward, to risk stepping into the unknown, or to remain in the world he knew. But what is more terrifying: to step into the void or to stand endlessly on its edge?
Yan took a step forward, his hand touched the cold glass, and the world changed forever.