Rever2 World 2P CYOA, a hetalia - axis powers fanfic

[Rever2 World]

A 'Short' CYOA within 2P!Hetalia

(The way to write the name without using the '2' would be 'Revert to World')

(Choose-Your-Own-Adventure is often shortened to CYOA)

*UPDATED- Now in the original formatting that I intended it to have!*

A/N: I made a cover for this! It can be found here, on my Deviant Art:

(Page One, FirstStepsIntoTheMirror)

You've just woken- cliché. Of course. Something is off, however. Very off. You stand, stumbling, and look around this room that you've been trapped within. It's cloaked in shadow, every last corner. You investigate the darkness of the seemingly endless room only to find that it is quite small- something between a walk in closet closet and an average bedroom. In the center is a mirror that refracts the little light in the room similarly to a gorgeous prism. You approach the shimmering surface cautiously, and startle when the floor-length mirror that is suspended by some unseen force gets misty as if put within a steaming shower. You take a hesitant step closer, and your breath clears the mirrors surface from steam as you exhale. Fear and curiosity war within your head, brutally and violently attempting to make sense of this situation. You've already tested- it isn't a dream. So what is it?

You put your hand softly to the mirror, and your reflection does the same in the exact, deliberate movements that you took. As your palm rests against the frigid surface, a tremor runs down the mirror and it shatters, glassy fragments of light thrown about the room. Luckily, only several glance by you. The ones that do, however, leave tiny, nasty cuts that seem like a worse paper cut. You bite your lip and take a deep breath to manage the pain before looking back up. Where the mirror was is now a silver stand in the mirror's shape, but the surface where the prism had been is now a blinding vortex of light. Without an option, your body is lurched within the light and you enter.

You are dropped near instantly into a shady town. The sky is greyer than an angry storm and tension hangs thick in the air- a fog. You are dropped into the center of an abandoned intersection. Three street signs greet you: Silence Street, Reflective Boulevard, and a sign that is clearly unreadable from weathering and rust. Something within you tugs at your heart and you know there is no escape unless you choose. You have reached your first choice within this horrid world of the player 2s. Choose:

-Silence Street (Go to heading 'Silence Street')

-Reflective Boulevard (Go to heading 'Reflective Boulevard')

-Unreadable Sign (Go to heading 'Unreadable Sign')

(Page Two: Silence Street)

Feeling that the sign pointing towards 'Silence Street' was in the best repair or generally just the best option, you continued on. It doesn't take you long to realize the lack of noise this street has- no, the entire world has. Of course, there were some sounds, but they were few and far between and entirely average; the occasional bird chirping or something of the like. The area was bleak and grey, and motion was nowhere to be found. Not a single squirrel scampered, not a single human trotted, and not a single leaf fluttered.

The tension within your throat and chest amplified. Your footfalls were near deafening in the near noiseless world, and you greatly feared that others could hear the throbbing, quickening heartbeat rising from your chest in the abnormal anxiety. Most of the shops were in decent repair, however dark their windows were. Strangely enough, most of the shops had boarded, locked doors. The sensation of eyes on your back pierced into your soul and sent shivers down your spine as you walked, despite the real temperature being in the high 60s with horridly humid air. The slate-colored clouds above churned and their yawning chasms turned a brassy color, static building and preparing to unleash lightning. And lightning did come, but without rain. Or thunder. Something about the electric white light was familiar and yet it was incredibly eerie when no sound came from it and not a single fat drop of rain plopped from the sky, lazily falling. No rain or thunder, but lightning. This world was strange. Too strange.

The pit in your stomach was heavier than stone, weighty and unpleasant. Still, your feet moved almost mechanically forward. Many times over you searched the street, only to find that every window and door seemed to be boarded and locked. There was only one unlocked building; an old, crumbling bakery with peeling tan paint and an oily, unwashed front window that had spiderwebs of cracks snaking throughout its surface. Its walls had settled oddly over time and there were tiny gaps between them in some places, however thin said gaps were. The door was unlocked and slightly ajar, although a 'Closed' sign hung limply on the door.

Further down the street there was a small park, more comparable to a decently sized square of grass than anything. Not a soul roamed the park, and it was only slightly less eerie than the bakery, as random patched of foliage, grass and trees had coiled and died, browning in a sickly color. A swing screeched as it swung lightly in the wind from where it hung from a withering oak branch. The park seemed the better option to explore until your eyes lay upon a mighty ruined statue, towering despite being in rubble. The stone was likely once a statue of a person, but it had been long shattered apart and cleaved, with several burn marks about its base suggesting it might have been deliberately destroyed.

Suddenly, the options were fairly even, and you loitered in the shade of a boarded shop awning, sucking in humid, thick air. Your fists clenched until your knuckles paled and you flickered your gaze back across the street. Two options. Two terrifying options. Choose:

-Crumbling Bakery with Door Ajar and Windows Shattered (Go to heading 'Crumbling Bakery')

-Deliberately Ruined and Burnt Statue (Go to heading 'Ruined Statue')

(Page Three: Reflective Boulevard)

Choosing to go down the worn asphalt road that was called by the name of 'Reflective Boulevard', you continued from the intersection. The thickening air seemed almost choking, but manageable. The temperature was fairly warm at 70 degrees, but the lack of sun and presence of thick humidity made the heat unnatural and sickening. The clouds formed rivers overhead, threatening a fierce storm. Wind was nonexistent along this street, and so the air was incredibly stifling and moisture clung to your skin, making it a bit wet. There was absolutely no sign of thunder, lightning, or rain, but still massive puddles pooled upon the ground almost magically, as if a steady deluge was pounding. The surfaces of the pools swam with colors like oil and were cloudy with mud. At last, you seemed to reach a puddle that was absolutely crystal clear- more pristine than any water you'd ever seen. This was suspicious, and so you carefully avoided said puddle.

Unfortunately, upon being focused on the eerily clear water, you neglected to notice a thick, muddy puddle. You trip and fall into the oozing muck, a potent brown coloration- the same as a dirty lake's bottom. The rainbow oil reflects on your skin and clings to it as if hungry. The puddle is rather murky, and you hurry to climb out. That is when it comes you your mind that most of your body is soaked, all the way up to your shoulders. The puddles were much deeper than they seemed- they were more sinkholes than puddles, really. Now that your body was slick with mud, it began to crust across your clothes and the oil still stayed stubbornly against your skin, even when the water dripped away. Now that you were wet, however, you were freezing. You haul your dirty body up and down the street, searching with a bit of desperation for somewhere warm, as the air had taken on a chill that you were certain hadn't been there before- dropping temperature rather quickly.

The cement sidewalks seemed untrodden and absolutely barren, and you left dark footprints of dirt and mud as you trailed along them within the shadowy awnings of shops. All of the shops were the same- boarded up harshly and locked tightly. A tiny park, filled with dying plants sucked of their life, was between this street and another. The lawn across the area was flourishing a Kelly green in some places, contrasting rather heavily to the sky, while in other places, the grass was a sickly yellow and wilted along with the other plants. A decaying branch supported an old, creaking swing that squealed in the nonexistent wind, shifting lightly. Plumes of dead foliage littered the ground and a choked clematis vine led your vision up to an utterly destroyed statue that might've been shattered or even burnt, as suggested by the flame-blackened stone. It seemed very deliberately destroyed.

You averted your gaze from the odd sculpture and back to the shop you currently wandered in front of. It was a mirror store, housing everything from handheld prisms to frightening mirrors that were suspended on nothing but air, like the one from the void-like room. The front counter was empty, but the door held a little neon sign that read 'Open', and a string of bells hung against the doorframe to alert anyone inside to a customer coming or leaving. Both places reeked of suspense. Choose:

-Deliberately Ruined and Burnt Statue (Go to heading 'Ruined Statue')

-The Wanderer's Mirror Shop (Go to heading 'Mirror Shop')

(Page Four: Unreadable Sign)

You continue walking from the intersection to the path labelled by the unreadable sign clouded by bubbles of rust. The black asphalt road quickly becomes less paved as you travel on, and eventually fades into a dirt road. Walking along the dirt road is difficult, as abnormally pointed stones dig into your feet through your shoes and cause your ankles and heels to demand a short rest. Upon sitting down upon an old, creaky bench, you let your vision wander back towards the dark roof-like sky. Its chilly along this path, mostly due to lack of sun, and yet the air is still thick with humidity that chokes at your lungs- unnatural and creepy, really.

The swirling clouds overhead spell a disastrous storm, but none seems to come, building a horrid tension in the air. All at once, a massive booming like battle drums shakes the ground and you realize with a start that it's the sound of rolling thunder. But there had been no lightning. Or rain. The striking sounds became more common, and every few minutes a clap of thunder would beat down upon the world, lightning-less and without the cold downpour the clouds seemed to promise. You continue on down the barren, lifelessly grey streets, now learning to ignore the sharp stones that seem to have a mind of their own as they somehow get stuck in your shoes and slice your feet. A long ways down the street, after passing many boarded shops and abandoned, locked houses, you reach the back of a store that had a bell upon its open back door.

The oddity seemed to startle you considerably, taking into account that it's the only open or unlocked building you have seen yet. The door is the back door, but it seems to lead to a small shop filled with varieties of prisms and mirrors, some lavish wall-hanging things, others similar to the unexplainably suspended one you entered this world through. You struggle to read a sign, as its far off and backwards from where you stand, but finally make out the words as the shop's name, along with an 'Open'. Not a sound comes from inside. You inch away from the silent Mirror Shop, turning only to be faced with another unlocked building.

A massive blow of thunder nearly kicks you off of your feet- you had quite forgotten the abnormal sound. Beside the second building there is a second street sign, not quite as damaged as the unreadable one, and clearly for this road. It reads 'Light-Stolen Terrace'. The name for the street is horribly peculiar, but you give no more thought to it as you approach the second building, a symphony of rolling thunder your background noise. The building is in relatively good shape as the structures along this road went, but its windows were painted over a pitch black with thick, industrial paint. The inside wasn't any brighter, it seemed, although you could barely spy shelves of books in the darkness. A sign that had fallen to the ground beside the wide-open door read 'Lightless Library'. A sense of dread loomed within both places. Choose:

-The Wanderer's Mirror Shop (Go to heading 'Mirror Shop)

-Pitch-Black Library at the Shady End of the Block (Go to heading 'Lightless Library')

(Page Five: Crumbling Bakery)

Whatever predicaments you had previously faced forgotten, you slip through the ajar door that hung by its hinges. The inside is laden with dust, and a thin film of it coats every object in the room. The peeling paint is worse on the inside- a powdery sky blue color flakes from the walls and ceiling, leaving the walls as uncolored, off-white plaster. Within the shop you seem mostly saved from the humidity, and although the shop has no working lights, it is quite bright due to the large, broken, window and the lightning that skirts the sky outside.

You smell the air and note that it smells something between the less-than-favorable dust, stale bread, flour, as well as a scent you never really remember smelling before. The bakery is pleasantly warm, toasty as if lit by a hearth, although there is none. The silken creations of arachnids hang from the broken light fixtures and drift about as you move. The furniture within the room consists of cherry-wood chairs and tables, with the chairs having tattered cushions that might've once been brightly colored, but seemed bleached out by the sun- although there was a severe lack of one.

Examining the display case, you see musty scones, croissants, and cookies piled on slick, cloudy wax paper, as well as small fruit cakes that looked hard from age and cupcakes that were partially decayed. A sink behind the counter was rusted a brown-ish orange and it seemed to never stop its steady drip, even when you pulled harshly on the least rusty handle to turn off the water. The steady drip of water that came from it was a gut-wrenching pale orange that held flecks of rust and dirt as it never stopped its quiet dripping. Drinking the water was out of the question, although you were rather parched.

The inedible, old pastries weren't an option to silence your rumbling stomach, either. A refrigerator holding unopened, untampered with bottles of soda rested in the far corner, and appeared to be plugged in to an electrical supply, as the cans and the surface of the appliance were quite freezing to the touch. A motion within the back kitchen startles you out of reaching for a soda or any sort of drink and your heart shudders with shock. The shadow behind the frosted glass kitchen door is getting closer, and you have a very short amount of time to react. Your only thoughts are to stay or to hide- there wasn't nearly enough time to outpace this person running, should they be hostile and give chase. Choose:

-Hide Beneath a Nearby Table (Go to heading 'Hide Beneath a Table')

-Stay and See what this Person Wants (Go to heading 'Hold your Ground')

(Page Six: Ruined Statue)

Previous path forgotten, you trot over to the decimated statue within the park to investigate. Upon closer examination, the statue was, indeed, a human before it was destroyed. Another notable detail that could be seen from close but not far was that the scorch marks seemed relatively fresh, as if they'd been made only hours ago. While this fact was unnerving, you could be completely sure that the person who had used the fire had not also broken the statue, as the stone looked mossy from being grounded for quite some time. You went to take a step away from the sculpture to imagine what it would've looked like whole when a crunching sound caused you to nearly jump out of your own skin and you whipped your head towards the source.

You found with moderate relief and moderate discomfort that you had taken a step backwards onto a dead patch of grass. But the dead grass was different up close. It hadn't died on its own- it had been burned dead and scorched alive, again, recently. On edge, you inched backwards another step, and a louder crunch caught your hearing.

Anxiously, you looked at your feet once again, convinced that the sound was only more burnt grass giving way to your weight. But it wasn't. Tiny bones, likely from a rodent or a bird, were blackened on the ground from the recent fire, then their delicate structure had been shattered under your foot. You turned and took a step away from the bones as quickly as possible, only to run smack into the statue. The surface hurt when your head banged against it, and for a second you felt a bit dizzy. Until it occurred to you that you hadn't run into the statue- you were still more than two arm's lengths from it, actually.

"Hello, little newcomer! I'm Loki! Care for some fire?" Before you was a Norwegian man about 5'08" or so in height, wearing a maroon sailor's uniform and a broad, almost sincere smile. His hair was a light blond and an odd curl came from its side. Some of his hair was clipped with a black cross clip. You would've pinned this person as harmless due to their cheerful demeanor and bright eyes, but he clutched a blowtorch. And the entire left half of his body was mangled with burned flesh. And on top of that, he had been the one to set the park aflame.

You inch backwards a couple of feet, away from him, only to be backed into the statue. Loki's eyes were slightly murderous, on further inspection, but also good-natured, as if he thought this to be humorous. Terror coursed through your limbs as you prepared to run from this first terrifying person you had met. The pyromaniac aimed the blowtorch so that its flames would enter into the flesh of your chest and catch your clothes and skin on fire. Choose:

-Fight the Pyro off with your Fists (Go to heading 'Fighting Fire')

-Dart at Top Speed and Hope to Evade Burning (Go to heading 'Flight from Flame')

(Page Seven: Mirror Shop)

Stumbling into the Mirror Shop, you take a deep breath, saved from the thickening humidity. The tiny string of bells from the door jingles to announce your attendance, but no one responds and not a single person stirs within the supposedly 'Open' Mirror Shop that went by the name of 'The Wanderer's Mirror Shop'. This world sure had obscure names for places; that was for sure!

As you wandered about the cozily sized store, you watched your reflection mimic your movements within each prism you passed. The front counter was deserted, you checked. A painting of a log cabin in a maple woods seemed to be the only decorative piece within the shop, and it hung behind the barren counter. The register was empty of money, and only contained a pack of cigarettes that seemed like a horrible idea to take, so you left them alone. Finally drifting towards the nook near the back of the store, you found a shattered handheld mirror upon the ground, the frame of the mirror that of a tree using its branches to support the mirror- which was now just shards of a mirror.

This was the only misplaced item within the entire establishment- the rest was spotless and flawlessly arranged and cleaned- there was even a lack of dust along the carpet! You wandered suspiciously away from the broken mirror and went to check the back room. And that is when you passed the front desk again. Now, in addition to the cigarettes within the register, there was a pair of classic sunglasses on the counter, as well as fresh footprints in the carpet from boots- not your feet.

How had you not noticed someone else enter if the bell would've warned you? A mirror in front of you reflected what was behind you before you even saw it coming- a tall man wearing a flannel pulled a bladed hockey stick close to your throat, trapping you. A scream barely escaped your lips in preparation and fear of being killed, but the person paused. You felt tiny pricks of blood well up across your fragile neck from the barbed wire that was wrapped across the hockey stick's end. You struggled and kicked, but the assailant was stronger. Finally, he released your struggling form.

"I don't particularly care for him, but I'll let Allen deal with you. He should appreciate it," The man began to walk away and shouted something into the back room, something about telling this 'Allen' to come. You got to your feet from where you had fallen and prepared to run, but said 'Allen' caught you by the arm.

"Welcome to our mirror shop," An odd smile came to Allen's face and he raised a baseball bat festooned with nails and needles. Your shriek was cut off by the sharp blow.

Sorry, but you have lost Revert2 World, a 2P CYOA. You may return to the first heading ('FirstStepsIntoTheMirror') and try again if you'd like!

(Page Eight: Lightless Library)

At last away from the tremoring thunder, you entered the shady cloak of the library, its musty aura hanging like smog, although the air lacked the humidity from outside and was actually relatively crisp and dry, despite its mustiness. The thunder could actually still be heard through the thick walls, but it was muffled and became a mumble rather than a bang. Past the first several rows of bookshelves there was a staircase leading down. It was your only option out of the first floor, and so you took it, kicking up dust as you descended out of the slight light the doorway granted and into a zone where your own hand five inches from your face was invisible in the clouds of darkness that somewhat reminded you of the mirror room that you had used to first come to the town.

There wasn't a single trace of windows or doors on the lower floor, as far as you knew, and the floor was plush carpet caked with dirt and the tiniest bit of mold in the corners of the room. As you went deeper within the library, light became even scarcer and soon you were all but blind, navigating by feel and the echoes the thunder sent around when it came, however muted the sound was in the basement library. The walls were incredibly thick and lined with obscure tapestries and the walls themselves were made from thick cement and concrete. Any sound that entered the basement, the shuffling of your hesitant feet included, echoed. Support beams were scattered within the umbral labyrinth of bookshelves.

Several times you considered looking at some of the books only to realize that you had no sight in this place and therefore couldn't. An odd library indeed. Fear crept around corners like a cat as you continued, no longer knowing where you had entered the expansive underground library. You were lost, and after an extensive time of searching and feeling about, you got no closer to getting out. You even found a wall once, and attempted to trail it back to the entrance- thinking it would be easy because the entrance was significantly lighter than the rest of the library maze. The wall, however, seemed to lead nowhere and you quickly lost it in the shadows.

Shadows? Never mind that- there couldn't be shadows. There was no light- everything was shadow and nothing was shadow. Aimless and disoriented, you were trapped within the multi-room labyrinth. Again, you thought you had found a wall. It proved to be only a bookshelf turned on its side. Continuing for a long while through the dark became exhausting, and now you no longer even remembered where you had found the bookshelf on its side. You let go of hope and slumped against the ground, closing your eyes although it didn't matter in this dark. Your eyelids seemed to detect light, however, and instantly fluttered open. A man held a candle in a candle-holder in one hand, and a stack of hentai manga books under his other arm. Both of his hands were gloved and his uniform was jet black with gold embellishments.

"How are you enjoying my library maze, my little sakura sapling?" A terrifying smile graced the Japanese man's slight face, murderous. His eyes glinted with some evil intent and a katana was slung in a case over his shoulder. He looked ready to drop his books and draw the katana. You gulped, standing to make yourself less vulnerable. Choose:

-Dart and Hope to Escape the Library Before he Catches You (Go to heading 'Try to Flee')

-Stay Here and see what he Wants (Go to heading 'Stay Stanced')

(Page Nine: Hide Beneath a Table)

You quickly duck beneath the cherry wood table against the white tile floor as the shadow pushes open the frosted glass door that leads to the kitchen. Your breathing slows and you stay pressed to the floor to avoid detection. It isn't a very efficient hiding place, however.

"Poppet? Why are you hiding? Come, come. Let us go to the kitchen and have some fresh cupcakes, shall we?" A distinctive British accent came from the man who leaned down and helped you out from under the table like a gentleman. His hair was a cotton-candy pink color that matched his suit, which was the same hue. Other than that, he wore dress pants and a blue bowtie that complimented his electric cyan eyes. You followed, trembling despite his demeanor seeming warm at the moment. You hadn't particularly expected the first person you met in this strange world to be like this, but somehow his generosity was more unnerving than relieving.

You were forced to follow silently to the kitchen and were directed to sit in a cherry wood chair once you both arrived there. The man, he introduced himself as Oliver, but 'Ollie' to his close friends, brought over a large platter of cyan and magenta cupcakes that harmonized in hue with his eyes and hair. They were very saturated, bright colors, if you did say so yourself. You, under his coldly polite gaze, shifted uncomfortably.

"Aren't you going to have a cupcake? I made them especially for you," He chimed, something about it not quite a question. Still, you knew you'd have a choice if you prepared to run, which you did, gearing up to dart from this obscure stranger. Choose:

-Eat one of Oliver's Cupcakes (Go to Heading 'Eat a Cupcake')

-Don't Accept a Cupcake (Go to Heading 'Reject the Offer')

(Page Ten: Hold Your Ground)

The man that entered was very peculiar, and he seemed to already know of your appearance within his bakery. His hair and suit were a matching bright magenta, and piercing cyan colored his eyes and bowtie. Freckles scattered about the bridge of his nose and his dress pants were a bit too long, you noticed after a moment.

"Only a fool stays in place when someone comes for them, my dear Poppet," His distinctive accent came to the air as he approached you. You couldn't keep but stumble backwards, away from those terrifying eyes with their evil intent. You couldn't formulate a response as you bolted for the door, suddenly mortified by the morbid sight the man had hid behind his back- a large, bloodstained butcher knife. You didn't quite make it to the door, though. Oliver's knife wouldn't allow you to tell others what you had seen, so no scream or shout reached the air when he caught you. And the knife decided it was time to come down on your throat.

Sorry, but you have lost Revert2 World, a 2P CYOA. You may return to the first heading ('FirstStepsIntoTheMirror') and try again if you'd like!

(Page Eleven: Fighting Fire)

The crazed Pyromaniac lunged, releasing the trigger on the blowtorch. At once, horrid cerulean flames with a white-hot bit in the center leapt from the blowtorch's opening and set your clothes aflame. The sensation was similar to being shoved inside the sun and you batted out the fire before it scorched any of your organs (or your vital regions, for that matter). Movement took tremendous effort and was incredibly painful, activating all of your nerves within your seared chest. The skin blackened and melted away beneath your clothes and the sting was worse than having a hundred needles impale your arm and then brushing lemon juice over the openings the needles left.

You writhed across the ground, but your kicking out was enough and knocked Loki off balance as well. Quite unfortunately, Loki once again tried to burn you with the blowtorch but instead lit himself aflame. You, no longer having the strength to fight, let him burn in his own fire. Although he wouldn't perish entirely because of the blaze, as he could put it out, he'd be unable to chase after you if you ran. And run you did. Despite the cut stinging like hellfire and your head throbbing out of panic and shock, your natural instincts forced you to run. Turning slightly, you still saw Loki pursuing you. How? You only had one option of a place to go: The Wanderer's Mirror Shop. Loki was unlikely to follow you inside, where there could be other people. But there were two entrances. Choose:

-Run through the Front Entrance to the Store and Lock the Door Behind You (Go to the Heading 'Mirror Shop')

-Go Around to the Back Entrance and Duck into the Back Room (Go to the Heading 'Back Entrance')

(Page Twelve: Flight from Flame)

Loki's blowtorch erupted in white and blue flame, throwing wreaths of the ultra-hot blaze towards you as you just barely slipped from under the spout-like opening to the blowtorch. A scream barely came past your lips, but still you raced away, steady on your feet even with knowing that Loki was certainly following. The Pyromaniac gave a sort of cheerful laugh as he pursued, accidentally lighting himself ablaze with golden flame numerous times and slowing to put himself out and then stumbling after with some sort of maniac determination, despite being coated in nasty burns that bled and blistered.

You winced out of some sort of sympathy for the crazy Pyro, despite being terrified of him and knowing that he would light you on fire and kill you if given the chance. Fortunately, Loki didn't seem to appreciate following you past the unreadable sign and onto a long dirt road. Unfortunately, you were exhausted and the uncannily sharp stones that poked at your feet with a mind of their own along the road weren't appreciated. You knew that you would become vulnerable if you slowed to a walk, and so were forced to continue running.

Out of breath, you were about to take in your options when a thunderclap exponentially louder than anything you had ever heard smashed the sky. But there had been no lightning, or rain. It sent a shudder down your spine as more rolling thunder, quieter this time, razed the sky and its brassy chasms of grey clouds. Finally getting used to the lightning-less thunder- which was really eerie, to be honest- you turned and assessed your options. There was the back entrance to the town Mirror Shop, 'The Wanderer's Mirror Shop', and then there was that quiet, dark maze of a library.

The back entrance to the Mirror Shop wasn't all that different from the front, as there were still bells hanging about the door and there were still mirrors hung orderly along the walls in perfect formation, save for a single shattered handheld mirror on the floor. As for the library, it was a squat building, made of concrete, and incredibly small on the surface, and entirely lightless on the inside. More thunder pounded, and you knew you had to choose. Choose:

-Enter the Back Room of the Mirror Shop (Go to Heading 'Back Entrance')

-Enter the Maze-Like Lightless Library (Go to the heading 'Lightless Library)

(Page Thirteen: Try to Flee)

You slip past the man, you were an arrow shooting blindly through the shrouds of darkness that cloaked beyond the candlelight, slamming into a bookshelf but ignoring the sting it brought your shoulder and continuing, weaving based on the echoes of your own footfalls, heart pumping faster than in a long while. Breath quickened as you heart quickened, a throbbing pulse requiring more oxygen for your blood to bring to your straining muscles. You took no notice of the ninja-like pursuer that gave up chase as he became lost following you within the depths of his own literary maze. Kuro- that was his name- stopped, hoping the maze would keep you trapped long enough to find you again.

Like that would happen. You wouldn't let it happen- finally recognizing the one tipped over bookshelf you had thought before to be a wall. As you trailed alongside the tipped bookshelf, you weaved between two more and into a room you were sure you had never been in before- the ground made a different sound when you stepped. You couldn't be certain of the appearance of the room due to the veil of nightlike shadows, but you could tell that it was much smaller than you had thought it to be at first. Something between an average bedroom and a walk in closet in size, really. In the center of the room is a fogged up mirror.

It hits you then. This room is perfectly identical to the one you entered this realm with. There must be three or so of these rooms, scattered throughout the 2P world. And this was one of them- guarded by Kuro Honda within his vast library maze. With a growing sense of pride and confidence, you strode to the mirror. Once again, your breath defogged its surface and it shattered, opening a light like the one you had used to enter. You touched it, and were instantly transported back.

Congratulations! You have found a way out of the 2P world and won the Revert2 World 2P CYOA! There are three ways to win, but many ways to die, so consider yourself a hero and give yourself a pat on the back!

(Page Fourteen: Stay Stanced)

Unfortunately, it didn't seem you stood a chance of survival against the Japanese 2P known as Kuro Honda. While typically it would seem that Kuro wouldn't fight an unarmed person, you seemed to make an exception for him. There were reasons for his exception- you had been close to escaping. Too close for his comfort. So, in the paleness of the candlelight, you had no chance to speak as a silvery metal katana sliced open your chest. And then Kuro watched you bleed out, relishing the screams and the torture of the time it took you to finally die.

"Apologies," His voice chimed coolly.

Sorry, but you have lost Revert2 World, a 2P CYOA. You may return to the first heading ('FirstStepsIntoTheMirror') and try again if you'd like!

(Page Fifteen: Eat a Cupcake)

You took a small bite of the cupcake offered, slightly pleased with its flavor. Oliver gave a horrid grin from across the table and seemed satisfied with the one bite you had took. You looked up, curious. Oliver shifted his weight in his chair across the table, an empty third chair sitting to his side.

"You're such a good Poppet!" He seemed to chirp almost morbidly. You trembled but said nothing, listening to Oliver go on and on about how great it was that you had the manners to be seen and not heard. To be entirely honest, you felt like either punching him or running, or both. You struggled to pull your thoughts back to reality and felt rather… dizzy… all of the sudden. Oliver gave a grotesque smirk and raised a knife above your neck as you passed out on the floor, mind not even comprehending that you had been sedated and then killed by a cupcake containing both sedatives and human blood. Your killer, of course, was the eerie Oliver. As you went out, you just barely felt the knife pick against your windpipe.

Sorry, but you have lost Revert2 World, a 2P CYOA. You may return to the first heading ('FirstStepsIntoTheMirror') and try again if you'd like!

(Page Sixteen: Reject the Offer)

Oliver had been prepared for that answer, and leapt with his knife. You were quicker, however, and slid from your seat, dashing across the kitchen towards a door at the far end of the room, hoping with every last drop of your soul that the door wasn't just a closet and that it actually led somewhere. You had to turn to dodge Oliver's butcher knife, which he had previously kept in his back pocket. Its pure steel was coated with bloodstains that sent shivers down your spine.

The knife just barely grazed your arm, warranting a shriek. Pressing your arm tightly to your chest to stop the bleeding, you bit your lip and winced from the pain, stumbling backwards and seeing stars. Your arm's soft flesh burned and seemed to sizzle as the cut oozed blood a deep crimson. The sight of your blood on Oliver's knife sickened you, and you felt ready to vomit. You ducked quite by accident as his knife barely missed your head due to the motion.

Unsteady, you lunged for the door and yanked it open, lurching inside of a pitch black room and fumbling the lock into place behind you. The sound of Oliver hacking at the door was drowned out by a sudden gasp, and not from pain. You were in a void of a black room, bigger than a walk in closet but smaller than the average bedroom. At the center was a foggy mirror. Your breath once again defogged it, just like it had done when you entered this horrid world. In a moment, you were sucked out of the 2P universe and back to safety.

(Page Seventeen: Back Entrance)

Not a soul stirred within the back entrance of the Mirror Shop, but there was still the feeling of being watched from eyes. Wordlessly, you ducked away from the feeling with a good deal of anxiety and slipped into the back room. It looked like an ordinary break room, and so you wandered around, examining little curios and ream after ream of paper stacked on the table, every page filled with neatly written notes.

The feeling of being watched began to subside, and you relaxed as much as one could in this situation, wandering about and finally finding a door that appeared to be for a closet. You opened it with curiosity, but was prepared to be disappointed by a janitor closet. You weren't disappointed in the slightest- your expectations were far exceeded. It was a void-like room, smaller than the average bedroom but larger than your typical walk in closet. Just like the room you had entered the 2P world through.

It was sudden that two voices came from behind you and two 2Ps just began to enter the back room, one with a baseball bat festooned with nails, pins, and needles, and the other with a bladed hockey stick wrapped thickly in barbed wire. Both had dark sunglasses to cover their eyes. Immediately, you lurched inside of the dark room and slammed the door, although they had already seen you. Running to the mirror, you did the same as you did to access this world. You breathed upon the foggy, floating prism, and it shattered and became a portal reminiscent of the one that brought you here. The 2Ps entered the room behind you, but they were too late. You had already escaped.