I was staring at myself.

  To be precise—at the sixteen-year-old version of me.

  Her skin bore the dullness of long-term sleep deprivation. She was in pajamas, holding a rusted metal baseball bat, her eyes sunken with dark circles, glaring at me like prey.

  "Only one Liv gets to reach the stage."

  I smiled and reached out to pat her head. "So you're planning to eliminate me, step into the spotlight, and live instead of me?"

  “Idiot,” she snorted. “You made a mess of your life—own it.”

  Then, without hesitation, she lifted the bat, weighed it in her grip, and swung it hard into her own skull.

  The dull thud of metal striking flesh-wrapped bone sent a chill crawling across my scalp.

  I could only watch, paralyzed, as blood oozed darkly and steadily from her temple, her body collapsing onto the red carpet.

  It consumed all my strength not to faint again.

  I turned away, barely able to shift my gaze from the corpse that had begun to lose all color—turning pale and stony, like a statue carved from despair.

  I watched as it sank into the carpet, leaving behind a darkened, human-shaped stain.

  And suddenly I understood.

  How many bodies had bled into this carpet? How many actors had become dye?

  “Wow… I actually made it this far?”

  The voice came from a girl half my height. She held a wrinkled sheet of A4 paper, its backside covered in messy, crooked handwriting.

  “Not only did I survive,” I murmured, tears welling up before I could stop them. “He’s still alive too…”

  The pain I'd buried for years suddenly burst open.

  “I just don’t get it. I really don’t…”

  I knelt beside the child. “How about you live for me instead? Maybe you'll find answers.”

  The little girl was already crying.

  “Oh, he’s still my stepdad. He and Mom still love each other, still have regular sex…”

  The eleven-year-old tore the paper to pieces and threw herself into my arms, sobbing until her entire body trembled.

  I held her tight. Her small, cold form pressed against mine. I hadn’t even realized my own face was soaked with tears until my vision blurred.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you mentally ill or something?”

  The child in my arms shrank rapidly, like time fast-forwarding in reverse. Then all that remained was a pile of crumbling sand.

  A shadow, three meters tall, loomed before me—hands on hips, one finger jabbing the air like it wanted to bore a hole straight through my face.

  “Don’t you get it? Only one Liv gets to go on stage. Are you stupid?”

  “I…”

  I wiped my tears with the apron tied over my uniform and looked the silhouette in the face.

  “So, it doesn’t matter which Liv, right?”

  The shadow froze.

  “This time I got screwed…”

  It slumped into a chair and adjusted the massive, half-meter-tall black hat on its head.

  “One hundred and forty-four hunters. One hundred and thirty-two are dead. The rest didn’t even make it back to your little hometown. That perfect hundred percent birthrate? You just broke it, lady!”

  “What do you mean, ‘hundred percent birthrate’?” I steadied my breath, determined to learn the truth—if I had to die right here, I wanted answers.

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  The lanky silhouette sighed again and again, like making a hard decision.

  “I’m not supposed to tell you this. But… fine. Call it a miracle.”

  It leaned closer.

  “Every single thing you’ve done on this path will come back to you. Everything.”

  “What?”

  “This path isn’t as long as you think. At the end, there’s a wall of mirrors. You’ll see every version of yourself. The pain they suffered—every cut, bruise, or death—they’ll all appear on your body. The record? Fourteen fatal wounds. She was a perfect killer.”

  The shadow gave a genuine, nostalgic sigh.

  “She gave birth to six residents. You’ve already met the strongest.”

  I could hardly breathe.

  “Blue Vulture?”

  It nodded solemnly.

  “Until you came along, the birthrate from hunters was always one hundred percent.”

  So every hunter’s death created life in Nowhere.

  I almost laughed. How absurd.

  “Then why are you here?” I asked.

  Its long fingers reached through my shirt like mist and plucked out something small—something brittle and cold.

  “To make sure you die here.”

  It took my left hand and pressed the finger bone into my index finger.

  I watched as the dark, dry fragment melted into my skin like merging layers in a photo editor.

  “Die near me,” the shadow whispered as I approached the edge of the red carpet.

  It gripped my hand tightly, bowed, and kissed the back of it like a gentleman stepping out of a black-and-white film.

  “If you need me, just snap your fingers.”

  Then a tremendous force hurled me off the carpet.

  I stumbled but managed to stay upright.

  I took a few seconds to adjust to the sudden brightness that engulfed me. I was standing on wooden floorboards, identical to those in the inn. The red carpet was gone. It was as if none of it had happened.

  Thunderous applause erupted from somewhere ahead—growing louder, sharper, until it shook the floor beneath my feet. Then, at last, it began to fade.

  “Darling, what is killing Liv?”

  The less I said, the safer I'd be. There were too many things I didn’t understand.

  “Everything,” I answered.

  A cheer erupted in front of me.

  A cold wind hit my face, forcing my eyes half-shut.

  Even before I knew what was happening, I understood I was going to die.

  An overwhelming force yanked at my right arm, hard enough to dislocate it. My knees slammed into the ground. I was dragged into darkness.

  “Are you okay?!”

  A warm hand pressed against my neck.

  I opened my eyes slowly and saw Rafe's face—uneasy and pale.

  “You’re safe now. You’ve made it off stage. The curtain’s down. Just breathe, I’ve got you.”

  “You… you’re the one I don’t trust.”

  I tried to stand. Pain shot through my knees and I collapsed again, trembling. Now that I looked closely, Rafe didn’t seem fine either. His eyebrows were twisted in worry, his usual sharp tone softened.

  I looked around—it was the backstage area.

  The same one I’d been in before.

  The same chair was still knocked over in the corner.

  “You used pseudo-bio to block the audience’s attack for me? Why?” I asked, falling back onto the floor. My limbs were cold and heavy. “What do you want?”

  Rafe scooped me up, his warmth slowly thawing my frozen limbs. His voice was soft. “I know, I know. Just rest a while. I’m here.”

  Something important tuggedh at the edge of my mind. I let myself fall asleep before I could remember what it was.