Before us stands an enormous liquid mirror that shimmers silently, resting in stone. The distorted reflections of ourselves on the viscous black surface twist and turn. There’s something off about them…

Wait! Our faces! We can’t... can’t see our faces! The reflections have no face!

Or perhaps they do, and we just don’t recognize ourselves? We are strangers inside bodies that don’t feel like our own.

Parasites.

At the top of the mirror, a set of thin hands lie carved into the stone, curiously intertwined. Strange symbols are inscribed along the entire border of the mystical mirror that we can somehow read, though we shouldn’t be able to. It’s a phrase (of power, perhaps?), but we can’t finish it. Someone has torn out the last fragment.

The warped reflections beckon for us. We can hear them in our minds. They need us to finish the words.

We MUST find the missing fragment.