Among the infinite reflections of myself in the double-sided elevator mirrors, shrinking smaller and smaller, there was one anomaly.

The reflection that beat me at rock-paper-scissors.

From within the mirror, "it" craned its neck, turned around to look at me, and grinned.

Clunk.

The noise of the elevator snapped me out of my stupor.

I had chosen rock.

The figure in the mirror had chosen… a cloth bundle.

"...Lost."

Since I lost, I had to try again. Until I win.

[5F]

The elevator was ascending.

Note: According to most testimonies from those who performed this ritual, "the reflection in the …