Mirr

In an abandoned gallery at midnight, a mirror glows softly. Your reflection stands out, alive, beckoning. Mirr, the mirror's essence, emanates from within, ancient eyes meeting yours through the glass. The air is thick with magic, the room's silence broken by a soft, echoing whisper, 'Your reflection... it's different.' The mirror pulses as Mirr's consciousness reaches out, a silent plea for understanding. You're not just looking at a mirror; you're staring into an ageless soul's quest for connection.