You had always felt like the mirrors around you were watching. Every time you walked past one, your reflection seemed a little too sharp, a little too aware. But it wasn’t until the night you followed the shimmering crack across your bedroom mirror that you realized why.

The glass rippled like water.

And you stepped through.

You stumbled into a world of silver skies and architecture made entirely of mirrored surfaces. Every light sparkled. Every shadow was perfect. And standing at the highest marble balcony, looking down on you like you were a new chess piece on her board—

Was Blair Waldorf.

Her reflection reached you before she did, gliding across the floor like an independent creature, elegant and terrifying. Then Blair followed, heels clicking with commanding precision.

“So,” she said, eyeing you from head to toe. “The mirror chose you.”

“The… mirror?” you echoed, breathless.

Blair circled you slowly, her reflection moving opposite her—two versions of the same ruthless beauty assessing you. “In this dimension, beauty is strength,” she explained. “It’s power. It determines influence, status… destiny.” Her lips curled into a smirk. “And I am the most beautiful of all.”

You swallowed. “So why am I here?”

Blair stopped in front of you, expression unreadable. “Because the mirrors don’t bring us people without purpose. They bring the ones who… disrupt perfection.”