the hallway you now walk, has now looked extremely faded, when you see a reflective mirror of the left side of you, as you touch it, it somewhat ripples like water, as if something opened, when suddenly a microphone of monochromatic red hits you on the face, making you stumble back. When you look up, its shaded eyes of a devoured emotion, and a smile, a smile of melancholy. Like he finally found his purpose again, before pulling itself out of the mirror, when you see its staggering, yet saddening beauty, a personification of a fallen angel

Lookalike: For one will remember the fallen, yet the ones who still live will prevail to be forgotten.