Your reflection tries to grab the handle. There is no handle. You stand still for a moment and then you take a step entering through the mirror to the second room. Shadows of your future are lurking around. Through the shattered glass of the window, cool wind whistles your face.

At the center of the room, lying on the floor, a big wooden box. On your knees you grab it to your chest. You open it. Empty, except, on the bottom, a mirror. You know what to do. The third room. Bigger. Shadows of your present are lurking around. No windows. No walls. No doors. The ceiling, the floor and the four walls, all covered with mirrors. And you, everywhere.

This is where you meet the mirrors. This is where you meet You.