End of the rabbit 🐇 hole 🕳.
I followed the rabbit hole the way people follow rumors—half curious, half convinced it would collapse into nonsense before it ever meant anything. The tunnel was narrow at first, packed with whispers, old maps, broken clocks, and half-truths scratched into the walls by hands that came before mine. Every step forward felt like stepping away from the surface world, away from the noise that says don’t look too hard. The deeper I went, the quieter it got. At some point the tunnel stopped sloping downward and began to level out. That’s when I noticed something strange: no more echoes. No more infinite branching paths. Just one straight passage, smooth and worn, like millions of minds had walked this same line, convinced there was more ahead. And then the tunnel ended. No explosion. No monster. No secret council waiting in robes. Just a wide, open chamber with a ceiling high enough to see clearly for the first time. In the center sat a mirror—not polished, not glowing—just honest glass...
