Then, Level 7: The Mirror Field. The screen split in two. On the left, Pierrot stood alone in a grey field. On the right, a memory: Pierrot and Colombe, laughing, painting each other’s faces with berry juice. The text appeared: One is a story. One is a choice.
The plastic case was warm from the afternoon sun slanting through the attic window. Léa brushed away a decade of dust, revealing the cover: two cartoonish, big-eyed characters, one blue and one pink, holding hands against a sparkly background. Les Inséparables . 2001.
Then, a single line of text: The fog remembers. les inseparables 2001
But as Léa played, the charm curdled. Level 3: The Bridge of Regrets . To cross, one character had to stand on a pressure plate while the other crossed. But halfway across, the plate began to sink. The game didn’t warn you. Colombe, standing on the plate, started to flicker. Her voice, a soft whisper from the TV speakers: “Don’t let go, Pierrot.”
Léa popped the disc in. The console whirred to life, a sound like a distant heartbeat. On the old CRT TV in the corner, a logo appeared: Moonlight Studios, 2001 . Then, a simple piano melody. Two children, a boy in blue and a girl in red, ran across a meadow towards a lighthouse. Then, Level 7: The Mirror Field
For three levels, Léa played as Pierrot alone. The puzzles became easier, designed for one. Colombe’s ghost followed at a distance, silent, her colours draining. The fog no longer advanced. The lighthouse grew closer.
“Don’t,” said a voice. Her younger brother, Max, stood in the doorway, arms crossed. “Maman said we’re not supposed to.” On the right, a memory: Pierrot and Colombe,
The level reset, but the music was different—slower, missing notes. Colombe reappeared, but her eyes were less bright. When Léa tried the puzzle again, she noticed something new: a hidden third path, a narrow ledge for a single character. She could abandon Colombe on the pressure plate and run ahead alone.