The Hall of Prismatic Reflection

The air in this octagonal chamber is still and smells of ozone and old silver. Eight tall, floor to ceiling mirrors line the walls, each framed in dark, tarnished iron. In the center of the room, a jagged violet crystal floats waist high, casting long shadows that do not quite match the objects they belong to. When you look into the mirrors, you see versions of yourself that are subtly wrong: one reflection has bleeding eyes, another wears a crown you do not possess, and a third remains perfectly still while you move. A sequence of three glyphs is etched into the stone floor at the base of each mirror, glowing with a soft, pulsing rhythm that matches the thumping of a heartbeat.