Takiro finally opened the old box.
The moment the lid lifted, light exploded outward — not gentle, not warm.
It struck his eyes like a blade.
For a split second, his entire world vanished.
It felt as though someone had driven a knife straight into his vision, sharp and merciless. Pain flooded his head before he could even cry out.
Then — slam.
The box shut with violent force.
Takiro barely realized what was happening before the ground disappeared beneath him. The lid closed so suddenly that he lost balance, his hands failing to catch the edge as his body fell inward.
He crashed down hard.
Pain rippled through him as if he had fallen from an entire floor above. His back screamed. His limbs refused to respond immediately.
Darkness swallowed everything.
Nothing.
No light.
No shape.
A terrifying thought struck him all at once.
Did I lose my sight?
Panic rose in his chest, sharp and suffocating. But he forced himself to stop. Forced himself to breathe.
Slowly.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
By the third breath, something changed.
Warmth.
Not heat that burned — warmth that comforted. Like standing in a hidden place under the sun, where the light didn’t blind, where the air wrapped around you gently.
When Takiro opened his eyes, he forgot how to breathe.
The room was entirely lined with mirrors.
Every surface reflected light. Every angle was deliberate. The floor, the walls, the ceiling — all perfectly aligned. In that instant, he understood.
The blinding flash wasn’t an accident.
It was a trap.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
A defense designed to disorient anyone foolish enough to open the box without knowing what lay beyond. Two to five seconds of blindness — more than enough time for someone inside to strike.
Takiro stood frozen, stunned not by fear, but by awe.
Small openings lined the walls — heat vents, precisely carved. Sunlight slipped through them, striking the mirrors at calculated angles, flooding the space with light without fire.
Who built something like this?
His mind drifted unwillingly.
Was my grandfather really just an ordinary Hunter?
Or… was he something else entirely?
Then Takiro noticed the skulls.
Massive. Enormous. Lined along the walls like trophies in a forbidden museum. These weren’t animals he recognized — not anything from the present world. Some towered far above him, twenty feet tall, their hollow eyes staring into eternity.
This wasn’t decoration.
This was a hunter’s legacy.
A chill ran down his spine.
Power, he knew, only began appearing in his grandfather’s generation. Children born with abilities. Humanity crossing a threshold.
And yet…
How could a man without much knowledge about powers could hunt creatures like these?
His gaze fell on a large skull mounted at the center. Beneath it, time-worn letters clung stubbornly to stone.
He could only make out fragments.
“Weaponless Hunt.”
Takiro frowned.
Weaponless?
No spear. No blade?
He leaned closer.
Below it, barely visible, another line remained.
“Air was the weapon.”
His breath caught.
That made no sense.
Takiro knew his own bloodline. His father controlled air pressure through tools, through precision. Even that took immense skill.
Then how—
Before the thought could finish forming, a voice echoed above him.
His wife.
Reality snapped back into place.
A sudden excitement replaced his confusion. She has to see this.
Takiro scrambled upward, climbing the ladder in reckless haste, calling out to her. He grabbed her hand, eyes shining like a child who had discovered a secret world.
She laughed, confused but amused. Just moments ago, he had been quiet and heavy — now he looked alive.
When he told her he was about to perform a “magic trick,” she smiled, assuming he was trying to cheer her up.
Then he stepped into the box.
And vanished.
Her heart stopped.
She rushed forward, peering inside — and froze.
Takiro was there.
No — Takiro was everywhere.
Five of him. Ten. Fifteen.
Her mind couldn’t understand what her eyes were seeing. She rubbed them, again and again, terror flooding her chest.
Is this magic?
Am I losing my mind?
The fear that she might never get him back clawed at her.
Then Takiro climbed upward.
The illusion shattered.
Mirrors.
Only mirrors.
Relief crashed over her like a wave. A tear slipped free before she could stop it, landing softly on Takiro’s cheek.
He smiled weakly.
“Did I scare you?”
She wiped her face, her voice trembling.
“For a moment… my heart stopped.”
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I only wanted to show you this place.”
Hand in hand, he led her inside.
She had never seen anything like it.
Her eyes moved constantly, unable to rest. Wonder chased fear. Curiosity drowned thought. For five full minutes, neither of them spoke.
Questions filled the silence.
Finally, she whispered,
“This room… why didn’t you ever tell me?”
Takiro smiled, half embarrassed.
“I only discovered it today.”
Before they could say anything more—
A loud thud echoed from above.
Then a cry.
Their child.
The room fell silent once more.
Do you think Takiro's Grandfather was an ordinary hunter?
