[And it's that eye that turns to look right at Agito. He sees you, feels you, because you are part of each other, aren't you? Separate, but never apart.
He turns slowly, languidly, a smooth motion as if seen through water. He leans forward, as if pressed against the glass, but that smile never leaves his face. His blood hand leaves a smear right across the cracks at the top of the mirror.
He's reaching upward, is he reaching out? No.
That red hand goes straight for the eyepatch. A begins to lift it.
Can you handle what might be there? Will you try to stop it?]