Level 725
rating: +65+x


Author: Sky3Sky3 (The Skyrooms)

Original (Mirror Tunnel) Concept: Entro_PEntro_P

Originally Level -3, before it was moved to Level 725.

The description of the mirror rooms is heavily inspired by Lucas Samaras' artwork Mirrored Room, present at the Albright-Knox Art Gallery in Buffalo, New York.

The mirror maze concept was loosely inspired by the image present in the now-deleted Level -3.
Custom SD logo derived from Level 197 by NavyEOD_24NavyEOD_24, originally created by Entro_PEntro_P.

CSS code taken from The Void by MyrandFoxMyrandFox.

Written for scrapcon.

Trigger Warning:

Even though I don't elaborate in grotesque detail, brief allusions to blood and violence scattered throughout the article may provoke uneasiness. Reader discretion may be advised.

Life away from the Frontrooms made me forget my own appearance, and before today, I was not aware of the extent of the physical and mental degradation that I experienced here in the Backrooms. No matter how much I looked like a ravaged wreck of blood, I persevered through my ordeals; survival always came first, after all. However, when I finally came face-to-face with myself, I questioned whether my stubborn pursuit of survival even meant anything.

I stumbled upon this peculiar place a while back, crawling on the floor to escape an entity pursuit. This small room had mirrors—first time I've seen some since I last walked the Earth. I stared at my reflection for several minutes, focusing on how much these years changed me. Sure, I certainly did not age biologically during my time here. However, I still looked feeble in the mirrors with the numerous scars that bled profusely and the bloodshot eyes caused by weeks of sleep deprivation. In that moment, the mirrors painted a perfect, albeit dreadful, image of what I had been reduced to after so much torture in these endless, chilling hallways.

Though many stare in the mirror to admire themselves, I came to pity myself in the solace of a location occupied only by my own reflection. Unfortunately, just when I began to enjoy basking in the silence, resting on the ground as the only living being in this otherwise-empty space, I was soon snapped out of my imagination by an oddly familiar noise. No—wait—it was a recognizable voice. Not just any voice, though—it was my own voice, calling out to me.


Class Mirage

  • Psychological Torture
  • Reality-Warping Geometry
  • Deceptive Influences



A Frontrooms museum exhibit containing a mirrored room similar to the ones in Level 725.

Deep within the hallways of the lightless Backrooms lies a purported safe space where all entities vanish from sight, leaving the wanderer completely alone in a small, cubic room—its faces replaced by six opposing mirrors that create an infinite quantity of reflections on all sides. Despite Level 725's lack of a source of light, wanderers are still able to see their mangled selves in the abnormal mirrors, which seem to produce a brilliant light in addition to reflecting it. However, all attempts at photography return only a black image, implying that the existence of light here is merely an illusion. Devoid of any reference points, the room messes with one's depth perception and stimulates the brain with so much repetition that splitting migraines become commonplace. This excessive confusion and shock impels wanderers to panic—at their own expense—as they struggle to stare at, let alone comprehend, the sheer scope of infinity.

However, not all hope is lost for those who intend to escape. Some walled mirrors are not completely solid, displaying a ripple effect upon coming into contact with a sufficiently strong force. This result implies that the specific mirror wall functions similarly to liquid and can thus be freely walked through. Successfully walking through a wall puts one into an exact replica of this room, albeit now with minor imperfections in the mirrors and their reflections. These defects, which include small cracks, blood stains, and uneven ridges, progressively become more profound as wanderers walk through more walls. As these blemishes accumulate, reflections lose their once-perfect quality, gradually devolving into inadequate, reprehensible depictions that no longer correctly portray their subject.

At this point, the "reflections" may appear to deviate from wanderers' behavior, functioning less like mirrored images and more like separate, living beings. Though this occurrence can initially be easily ignored as just a hallucination—a byproduct of the mental degradation fueled by utter disorientation—eventually, wanderers must accept the fact that the silhouettes in the mirrors are not just reflections. In many cases, the reflections, by imitating people's voices, encourage wanderers to walk through the respective walls the beings are located behind. Most of the time, this ends up being a harmless prank to humiliate wanderers, who crash headfirst into a solid mirror without phasing through the wall.

However, in rare cases, the reflections will deliberately lead wanderers into a room where the floor mirror is not solid, resulting in wanderers falling through what only appears to be the ground. While the fall may end rapidly, with the wanderer only phasing through the floor of a one room before hitting solid ground, this is not guaranteed; these traps usually have wanderers phasing through multiple floor mirrors, resulting in drops that can be fatal or—in the worst case scenario—never-ending. It is recommended that wanderers stay focused and vigilant amid the various distractions; the reflections lure victims into the traps by feigning familiarity and credibility. These beings may look like you, sound like you, and act like you, but it is important to remember that they are not you.

The voice beckoned me to free it, repeatedly and desperately telling me, "Please… you're making a mistake. Don't just sit there… let me out of this prison. Don't end up like me." When I opened my eyes, I saw my reflection persistently slamming her bloodied fist into the wall to my left. The glass was cracking more with each successive punch, and I stumbled back in fear, unprepared to confront whatever could step through that wall once it broke.

However, I must have backed up too much… such that I went through the wall. Into the same room, in fact—though my rogue reflection was gone. My nightmare did not end there, unfortunately; all around me, I saw some mirror walls gradually fracturing, even when my reflections on those walls displayed my same panicked expressions and conformed to match every move I made. With an adrenaline rush, I traversed this maze of mirrors for what seemed to be several minutes, running toward mirrors that lacked visible cracks and closing my eyes just before I made impact with the walls. Was I escaping my own self, or was it something else?

Entrances and Exits


Certain mirrors in Level 365 are not made of solid glass. In these specific mirrors, the image presented by them does not imitate the behavior of the subject they are supposed to reflect. Wanderers can walk through these mirrors to enter Level 725.


Many solid mirrors in Level 725 can fracture easily; when they finally collapse, what lies on the other side of the wall is usually either a void of nothingness or a tiled wall of a public bathroom. Wanderers must exercise caution when stepping through these newly created cavities, as there is a high possibility of being cut by broken glass. The hole in the wall tends to fix itself after several minutes, so wanderers must also be quick.

For obvious reasons, it is not recommended to step through the hole if what lies beyond appears to be a void of nothingness. Unsurprisingly, those who decided to enter anyway were never seen again, most likely trapped in eternal oblivion after the wall repaired itself.

Eventually, traveling through the maze brought me to an abnormal wall—one that wasn't a mirror, thankfully. Without thinking, I walked through it into an empty space inhabited only by darkness, believing it would be my ticket out of this place.

Unfortunately, I was incorrect. There was nothing on the other side of that wall—only an endless abyss devoid of color and matter. After minutes of contemplation in pure nothingness, it seemed as though I got myself into another predicament, damnit. The wall I phased through was clearly still there, though it was now a solid piece of glass for me to look back at the mirror room as a stark reminder of the situation I just escaped.

However, while looking through the glass, reflecting on all the mistakes that led me into this godforsaken place, I suddenly saw another manifestation of myself in the room I just escaped. I was genuinely confused for a while, but then, she started making the exact same movements—the same mistakes—I made when I first entered this level.

And at that precise moment, everything became clear to me.

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