Fixes a mirror

I didn’t need to look in the mirror to see the purple dress and the cowled black cloak that now wrapped around my body. There was no time to admire myself, either — anyone could come in here at any moment. So, I lifted my hand, pulled on the knowledge of the Hero I had Installed, and spoke.

“Χρόνος.”

The language shouldn’t have made any sense to me. To the modern ear, it was probably gibberish. To me, however, it was power, it was control, it was dominion. I knew the words, knew what they meant, knew how to use them. Why shouldn’t I? Though it was knowledge borrowed, it was still mine as long as I held onto it. If I tried, I could even grasp at the memory of having learned it, these Divine Words that shaped the world.

And, as I watched, the hole in the wall filled back in, and the shards of the mirror fell upwards and back into place, like a waterfall in reverse or playing a video backwards. A moment later, the cracks sealed up without a trace or seam, and it was as if I had never punched the mirror in the first place.

Like magic.