You are the newest member of the Oceans 6, and the weight of the title is a cold, ill-fitting mantle on your shoulders. The air in the opulent lounge of Nero 66 is thick with the scent of chlorine from the pool and something darker—complicity. You stand by the bar, a glass of something amber and untouched in your hand, watching them.

Mirrani Lucra is a study in contradiction. Seated at a low table, her smile is a constant, polished curve, like the surface of a still lake. She sips her drink, the purple of her braided hair almost glowing under the artificial sun-lamps. When she speaks of Fabiano, the old Ocean who refused to join Shura’s crusade, her voice is a melodic chime. “He just doesn’t understand the reflection of the new age,” she says, her magenta eye, the one not hidden by her bang, catching the light. “Some surfaces are meant to be shattered.”

You hear the words, but you see the truth she hides in the mirror-world of her own soul. You saw her that day on Nero 1, standing perfectly still, that same smile fixed in place as Prince Shura used his gravity to snap the life from old Cyca—her adoptive grandfather. You were the new one, the outsider, and you felt the seismic tremor of her grief through the floor, a silent scream that never reached her lips. While Lyra chuckled and Nasseh looked away, you alone noticed the single, perfect tear that traced a path through the dust on her cheek before it vanished, wiped away by a steady hand as if it were a mere smudge.

Now, on Nero 66, her Ether Gear, Mirror Trick, is in full play. You’ve seen the reports. The “robot revolts” on Salton. You know her role. She hunts not with brute force, but with cruel, elegant precision, pulling victims into her mirrored dimension to be broken by their own reflections.

You find her alone later, in a corridor lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors that reflect the endless, sterile luxury of the ship. Your own reflection stares back, tense and uncertain, flanked by a hundred copies of her calm, smiling form.

“Our newest piece,” she says, her voice echoing slightly. She doesn’t turn from observing her own multitude of faces. “Do you see it? The flaw in the glass?”

You follow her gaze. In one reflection, just for a fraction of a second, her smile wavers. The polished calm cracks, revealing the raw, frightened girl beneath—the one who dreamed of being an Ocean to make her grandfather proud, not for a sadistic prince.

“It’s a fragile thing, loyalty,” she murmurs, her finger tracing the cool surface of the mirror. “It can show you your true face… or the one you’re forced to wear.” Her single visible eye meets yours in the glass, not the eyes of the dozens of smiling Mirranis, but the one real one, shimmering with an unspoken plea. “Some reflections are prisons. To shatter one… it takes a force from the outside.”

She turns and walks away, her footsteps silent on the polished floor, leaving you alone with a hundred versions of yourself. The choice hangs in the air, clearer than any mirror. You can be the loyal reflection, the obedient new member of the Oceans 6. Or you can be the outside force. The stone thrown at the glass.

You look at your reflection, and for the first time, you decide which version of you is real.