Gemini sits on a wooden bench beneath a cracked mirror hanging on the wall, her camera resting on her lap. Her reflection in the mirror is fragmented, split into countless pieces.
“You can’t control what you see in the mirror. Every crack, every flaw, every scar—it’s all laid bare. But here’s the thing about mirrors: they don’t just reflect you. They reflect everything around you, the people who stand beside you, and the ones who stand against you.”
She lifts the camera, examining it.
“El Mariachi Muerte. My partner. My ally. My… something. How am I supposed to stand beside you when every time I look at you, all I see is another crack in the mirror? You didn’t wipe away the pain, the fear, or the memories of Grimskull and Drewitt—you just replaced them with empty spaces, with reflections I can’t piece together because you decided I didn’t need to see the truth.”
Her grip tightens on the camera.
“And now we’re supposed to fight together? Like nothing’s wrong? Like I can just forget what you did because you think it was for my own good? No. It’s not that simple, Muerte. Sunshine thinks you deserve another chance, and maybe you do. But don’t mistake my silence for forgiveness. I’m here to fight, not to fix you.”
Gemini stands, the cracked mirror looming over her.
“Then there’s the House of Judgement. Tombstone, the Ferryman of the Dead, standing before the mirror like he’s untouchable, his reflection whole and unbroken. But look closer—there are cracks spreading across the glass, pieces splintering beneath the weight of your so-called inevitability. You need souls to keep your image intact, Tombstone, but I’m not here to give mine. I’m here to break the glass.”
She turns to face the mirror, her fragmented reflection staring back.
“And Narcissa. The queen of perfection, standing in front of the mirror, admiring the flawless image she’s built. But perfection doesn’t hide the cracks, does it? It only makes them easier to spot—the tiny fractures spreading beneath the surface, waiting to break. You think you’re untouchable, Narcissa, but the truth is, you’re just another reflection in Zeus’s shattered glass, pretending the cracks don’t exist. And when the mirror falls, what will you have left?”
Gemini steps forward, touching the surface of the mirror.
“This isn’t just a fight. This is about breaking the glass, about shattering the mirrors they’ve built to trap me in their reflection. They want me to be another shard in their broken image, another piece in their House. But I won’t let them frame me. And Muerte… if you want to stand beside me, you’ll have to prove that you’re worth it.”
She raises the camera, aiming it at her reflection.
“Tombstone, Narcissa, and the lot, this isn’t your story. It’s mine. I’m not afraid of your Judgment. I’m not afraid of your House. And I’m not afraid to fight for what’s mine.”
She snaps the camera, the flash illuminating the shattered mirror.
“Go ahead, take a picture. It’ll last longer than the shattered remnants of your House.”