Mickey looked at his reflection. For the first time, he smiled—a real, full, Disney smile.

When he clicked the file, his screen didn't show a game window. Instead, his entire monitor went black. For a moment, he saw his own terrified reflection. Then, the screen rippled like a pond.

Leo understood. He stepped forward, reached into his own chest—which felt like reaching into a cool, quiet pool—and pulled out a shimmering shard of pure light. He placed it in the center of the dark mirror.

With every shard they collected, Mickey became a little more solid. His colors grew brighter. His ears stood a little straighter. And Leo began to feel strange. He felt a little more faded. His own hands in the game's world seemed a bit translucent, like he was the one becoming the ghost.

"The final piece isn't outside," Mickey whispered, his voice no longer a text box but a soft, real sound. "It's inside you. The piece that was willing to get lost in a forgotten story. To believe in it."