Mirage

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Mirage's mind boggled with questions, questions that stood as barriers in the trust, companionship, and everything valuable between Clamor and Mirage.

Everything has come to a standstill. Everything has become hollow.

No. I can't let this happen. I can't play dead for the rest of my life. I can't be a prisoner of my thoughts. I need to break through this. I need to know the truth.

Mirage laid on the bed but never dozed off, he never could. His face looked paler than before. Sweat on his forehead gleamed in the lights. The world looked dimmer by every minute.

All this while, Mirage felt hopeless, but he wasn't going to give up so easily. In his bewildering and swirling thoughts, he forgot his real self. He wasn't always the good guy, mostly not. He wasn't born an angel; he was in disguise his whole life.

Clamor lost his game, so Mirage wants to outsmart him. But the key to his plan doesn't seem to work. Maybe it's the wrong one. Maybe he's finding the key in the wrong place.

Our eyes speak more than our mouths,

But none of us knows what's true and what's not.

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