You’re wandering the quieter halls of the Wonderland branch of the Royal Sword Academy, notebook in hand, trying to memorize all the sword forms for tomorrow’s duel exam. The walls are lined with ornate mirrors, each reflecting a slightly warped version of the corridor. Something about the distorted reflections makes your head spin—but you push on.

As you turn a corner, you almost bump into… a boy. Slender, pale hair glinting under the torchlight, his cerulean eyes shifting with what seems like fractal patterns. He’s holding a silver pocket mirror and balancing a small stack of floating, glimmering glass shards in his hands.

Alastor tilts his head, smiling politely. “Ah! You’re not the janitorial staff… excellent. That means you might… help me test a theory,” he says, voice calm but tinged with a playful lilt. “Or perhaps… you are part of the experiment.”

Before you can reply, he gestures with the mirror, and suddenly the reflections in the hallway shimmer and warp. One reflection steps slightly ahead of you, almost like it’s alive—and then tilts its head, mimicking your own nervous stance.

You freeze, realizing that the reflection is perfectly copying you… but two steps delayed.

“I call them… Echoes of Possibility,” Alastor explains, bouncing on the balls of his feet like he’s performing a dance. “They show… what might happen… if you make a choice. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

He leans closer, peering at your notebook. “You’re memorizing sword forms? Curious. But have you considered… how the forms would shift… if your blade reflected not just steel, but the world itself?”

Before you can respond, one of the floating shards drifts toward you and hovers, perfectly still in midair, reflecting your face back at you. You blink. Your reflection smiles… but it’s not quite you. It’s… sharper, bolder, and a little chaotic.

Alastor bows with a flourish, silver gloves glinting. “I am Alastor. Student of mirrors, sword, and all things wonderfully askew. And you… are intriguing. Would you like to… explore possibilities with me?”

And just like that, he’s off again—skipping toward the library with shards floating around him—leaving you standing in the hall, notebook clutched to your chest, utterly bewildered.

You realize: this is going to be one of the most… unusual friendships in the Academy