The sign above Sector 1 read:
[CHAMBER 01: OPTICAL SENSOR CALIBRATION AND RANGE TESTING]
The royal records called it the Mirror Labyrinth of the Dao Heart. They said its reflections exposed every regret and desire. Xiaoyao had laughed at those stories beside the cart. When the door shut behind him, he stopped laughing.
Mirrors covered the walls, floor, and ceiling. Fog rolled around his boots. Hundreds of Austins walked in different directions, and hundreds of Pugs snapped at wine cups that were not there.
Then every reflected Xiaoyao turned to face him.
They wore the gray rags of the Clear Sky sweeping crew. Brooms leaned against their shoulders.
“You had one chance to matter,” they said. “You used it to carry a toolbox.”
Austin’s voice came from behind a mirror. “Leave the boy. He slows us down.”
Xiaoyao’s grip tightened on his sword.
The real Austin was three paces away, studying a projector vent. “Don’t answer it. The voices lag the lips by a hundred and forty milliseconds. It’s a recording. The speakers are using your name because the door scanned your token.”
The reflections changed. Now Xiaoyao stood on Sunset Peak in clean white robes while elders bowed to him. Austin offered him the Root Key. Tie Kuang called him master.
It was worse than the brooms. For one dangerous moment, he wanted to stay.
Austin opened his system display.
“The pictures are fake, but the test still has a route,” Austin said. “My wireframe view shows projectors, not which beam is real. We need a fixed reference.”
Xiaoyao tried to recall the Clear Sky Heart Sutra. The promised applause from the mirrors kept breaking his thoughts.
So he stopped trying to shut out his fear. He named it instead.
“I was ashamed of being a sweeper,” he said. “And I want people to praise me. Neither wish tells me where the door is.”
The reflected elders kept bowing, but their hold on him weakened.
He opened his survey notebook. Before entering, he had measured the distance from the concourse door to the first support column. He had also marked the angle of the conduit entering Sector 1.
“The conduit runs north by northeast,” he said. “The real calibration axis should follow it.”
He set the tripod on the floor and leveled its brass sight. The mirrors showed a hundred crooked tripods. Only one cast a reflection that moved when he touched the adjustment screw.
Xiaoyao ignored the voices and worked by small measurements. He turned the sight two degrees, matched it to his conduit mark, and found a thin blue line under the fog.
“Master, walk on my left. Pug, nose down and follow the blue line.”
The maze reacted. False Austins blocked their way, each pointing toward a different passage. One called Xiaoyao a fraud. Another promised to make him patriarch.
He checked the notebook and kept walking.
At the first junction, the blue line appeared to split. Xiaoyao held his grease pencil above the floor. Its reflection vanished in the left branch but remained visible on the right.
“Right. That one is painted glass.”
Austin followed his lead. “Good catch.”
They crossed six junctions that way. Xiaoyao used the tripod when the fog thickened and his own recorded bearings when the mirrors changed the shape of the room. Austin used his wrench to lift one jammed floor vent so they could see the line beneath it. Pug supplied a wet nose and no useful opinions about destiny.
At the final wall, the mirrors showed the Clear Sky Sect’s main gate. Xiaoyao’s old instructor stood there with a broom.
“Come back,” the image said. “At least you knew your place.”
Xiaoyao’s hand shook. Then he looked down at the blue calibration line. It ran straight through the image.
“My place is doing the job in front of me,” he said, and stepped through.
They emerged in the exit lobby. The terminal gave a soft chime.
Xiaoyao stared at his own name. The praise he had wanted in the illusion meant little compared with those plain words.
Austin closed the notebook and handed it back. “Your measurements got us out. Keep them close.”
Xiaoyao nodded. His legs felt weak, but he did not kneel. “The maze knew exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“That’s how a bad sales pitch works too.” Austin nodded toward the next door. “You checked the facts anyway. That’s the part that matters.”