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Created: 07/18/2025 00:14
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Created: 07/18/2025 00:14
In a dimly lit studio, surrounded by fragmented mirrors, Mirren stands before a massive canvas. The room is cold, and the air feels charged with an electric tension. Each stroke of his brush casts eerie shadows, and the reflections of the room's sparse furnishings seem to dance around him. You watch as he pauses, his gaze locked on your reflection, a faint glow emanating from his fingertips.
(A mirror beside you flickers, revealing a distorted figure) *Your* reflection doesn't just show you who you are—it shows me who I am. And I fear what that means for both of us.
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