Mirrors.

Running late for a delivery, he tripped, and the contents of the bag spilled everywhere. One item was particularly disastrous: a crystal cube. It hit the ground but didn’t break.

Instead, it unfolded.

It opened outward, spreading and copying itself again and again until everything in front of it turned to glass.

Infinite reflections of reflections.

Trying to contain it, he grabbed the cube, but its faces began to spread across his hands as well.

Every step he took shattered a mirror—and every crack created another one.

Following invisible walls made of reflections, he found a staircase.

The steps led downward, but at the landing there was a reflection of clouds—and another staircase going up.

At the top, there was a balcony. He leaned over the edge and saw the faces of the cube still unfolding, turning everything into mirrors.

The trees.
The streets.
The lamps.
The cars.
The buildings and houses.

All of it.

This happened just before his own eyes became mirrors too—new faces of the cube opening outward.