10 panels to explore
Marcus Webb's dressing room at Titan Studios, 1927. Mirrors stretch infinitely, reflecting a man in his twenties who looks like he's seen too much. Half-packed trunk sits open in center.
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The Final Frame
Marcus Webb's dressing room at Titan Studios, 1927. Mirrors stretch infinitely, reflecting a man in his twenties who looks like he's seen too much. Half-packed trunk sits open in center.
Marcus's hands, trembling as they button his shirt. His gold signet ring flashes in the mirror reflection. A watch face shows 2:47 AM.
Marcus standing by his trunk, photographs scattered across his makeup table. Three images show: performer falling from trapeze, guillotine blade descending, horse carriage accident.
Eleanor Vance bursts through velvet curtains, her coat soaked with rain, papers flying everywhere. Her expression fierce, determined.
Marcus turns to face Eleanor. He holds up his hands defensively, his face etched with exhaustion. In the mirror behind him, his reflection shows a man ready to flee.
Eleanor's eyes, intense and unblinking. Raindrops drip from her soaked coat collar. Her spectacles catch the light.
Extreme close-up of a photograph: a performer's body beneath a stage trap door, rigging visible in precise geometric patterns—unmistakably Marcus's signature setup.
Marcus's face, all color drained, eyes wide with horror as his polished gold signet ring catches the light. Sweat beads on his forehead.
The entire dressing room tilts 25 degrees: Marcus stumbling backward, mirrors multiplying his guilt into infinity, Eleanor standing firm with evidence fanned out.
Over Marcus's shoulder as he stares down at three photographs arranged in a row—three deaths, three perfect replications of his stolen illusions. His half-packed trunk forgotten in the background.
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