White light surrounded him, and he watched boredly as a new person appeared in the mirror. His hair was red this time, cut short, scruffy and kept back with a black headband. A black trenchcoat swished around his ankles, over a sleeveless jumpsuit.
But the eyes remained.
They were emerald instead of violet or gold this time, but same as always, something hated lurked behind them. Something that he couldn't get rid of. Something less than a memory.
These eyes, no matter which new person he became, remembered seeing through the eyes of a child, a teenager, someone called William. Someone who reached his hands out to Dante. Someone who hugged his father and was loved back.
He changed back into himself – what he liked to think was himself. But the shadow of a shadow of a memory unseen still rested behind the eyes of the unloved and lost.