Chapter 3: The Crimson Field and the Living Mirrors

I had no idea how long I’d been walking on the bridge.
There was no sun, no clock — only a soft crimson light, like an endless sunset stretched across the sky.

Then the ground appeared.

The bridge didn’t end — it dissolved, like a silk thread fading into a thick mist. I kept walking, and the surface beneath my feet grew firmer — rough, cracked, like dry red clay after a long drought.

A field stretched out before me.
No trees. No wind.
Only upright stone blocks scattered like ruins of an ancient monument — each about two meters tall, with a surface polished smooth like mirrors.

I stepped closer to one.

Its surface didn’t just reflect — it moved. I wasn’t seeing my own image, but a different version of myself — doing things I’d never done, standing in places I’d never seen.

I backed away, heart racing.

Another block lit up beside me. This time, it showed Hoàng Long — my son — but in a strange setting, as if he were living in another world. His clothes were unfamiliar. He was speaking a language I couldn’t recognize. And his eyes — they were staring straight at me through the mirror, as if he… knew me.

I nearly called his name when a voice behind me said:

“Don’t touch them. Each mirror holds a memory — or a future. Touch one, and you’ll lose your way.”

I turned sharply.

It wasn’t the Gatekeeper.

It was… someone who looked like a young girl.

Small frame, shoulder-length hair, wide eyes. She wore a silver jumpsuit dusted with red soil. But her face made me stop — she didn’t look entirely like a child. There was something in her eyes… an old quietness, like time flowed differently within her.

I asked, hesitantly:
“Who are you?”

“I’m just a Sower. We come first to plant questions. Grown-ups like you come later, seeking answers.”

“Answers to what?”

“To yourselves. To the child you love. To the world you think is yours.”

I squinted, trying to read her more carefully. “How do you know about my son?”

“Because he’s beginning to see what the rest of the world is trying to forget.”

Her words sent a chill down my spine.

The living mirrors behind her began to shimmer slightly, as if echoing her thoughts.

“My son… what does he have to do with this world?”

“That’s what you must find out. But not too fast. If you truly want answers, then go to the place where the heart of this planet still beats — where the light never sleeps.”

I opened my mouth to ask, “Where is that?”, but she had already turned away.

I stepped forward to follow, but the mirrors around me began to pulse — light inside them swirling like a vortex.

And then… I heard Hoàng Long’s voice calling from within one of them:

“Dad… do you see it too?”

I froze. His voice wasn’t a memory. It felt like it was touching my mind directly.

In an instant, the mirrors all lit up at once — crimson turning into a blinding blue — then narrowed into a single glowing line.

I didn’t resist. I stepped into that thread of light, as if pulled by something invisible.

And when I opened my eyes, I was somewhere else.