Chapter 8: What the Eyes Demand
Li Mei did not fall forever.
She hit something—hard. Cold stone drove the breath from her lungs as pain exploded through her shoulder. The light vanished, replaced by darkness so complete it felt suffocating.
She lay there, gasping, waiting for the world to steady.
The mask was silent.
That terrified her more than the whispers ever had.
Slowly, she pushed herself upright. The ground beneath her was smooth, carved deliberately. When she reached out, her fingers brushed against shallow grooves—symbols etched into the stone. Eyes. Hundreds of them, carved in endless repetition.
A familiar dread crept into her chest.
“This place again,” she whispered.
But this wasn’t the temple.
The darkness peeled back, revealing a vast circular chamber. No walls—only endless black beyond the ring of stone. At the center stood a single pedestal, empty except for a shallow indentation shaped unmistakably like a mask.
Li Mei’s stomach twisted.
The Thousand-Eyed Mask hummed to life against her face, low and deliberate, as if savoring the moment.
“You stand at the threshold,” it said.
“Threshold of what?” she demanded.
“Of ownership.”
The words echoed, rippling across the chamber.
Li Mei stepped forward, drawn despite herself. With every step, memories surfaced—not visions this time, but sensations. The ache of kneeling too long. The weight of unseen eyes judging her worth. The quiet certainty of being watched even in sleep.
“These aren’t mine,” she said through clenched teeth.
“They will be.”
She reached the pedestal. The indentation pulsed faintly, responding to the mask’s presence. Her reflection stared back at her from its polished surface—but something was wrong.
The reflection didn’t move when she did.
It looked… relieved.
“You’re still here,” the reflection said softly.
Li Mei recoiled. “You’re not real.”
The reflection smiled sadly. “Neither were they. Not anymore.”
Faces appeared behind it—blurred, hollow, countless. Previous bearers. Their eyes were gone, replaced by smooth darkness.
“They all stood where you stand now,” the reflection continued. “All asked for truth. All believed they could stop before it took too much.”
Li Mei’s hands shook. “Then why show me this?”
The mask’s voice lowered, intimate.
“Because the next truth requires consent.”
The chamber trembled. The pedestal flared with light.
“Remove me,” the mask said. “And you will remain whole—but blind to what comes.”
The reflection’s smile faded.
“Place me here,” the mask continued, “and you will see everything that threatens your world.”
A pause.
“But you will never see yourself the same way again.”
Li Mei stared at the pedestal. At the mask. At the faces behind her reflection—souls who had chosen knowledge over themselves.
Her fingers rose to the edge of the Thousand-Eyed Mask.
Her heart pounded.
If she removed it now, she could walk away. Ignorant—but free.
If she didn’t…
The chamber leaned inward, as if listening.
Li Mei closed her eyes.
And asked the one question the mask had never answered.
“What happens… when the mask decides I’ve given enough?”
For the first time since she found it—
The Thousand-Eyed Mask hesitated.
To be continued…
