"Mirror Hall" had no doors.
Because a door meant enclosure, and enclosure was a kind of silence; a key, meanwhile, meant opening, and opening was a wound.
Beauty withered in silence, while wounds damaged beauty. That was why Mirror Hall had no main entrance, only windows—the windows were eyes, a medium for observing beauty.
Thus, every painting on the outer walls here was a mirror, a window.
Iver led Arsene toward the painting nearest to them.
—It was a religious painting in dark red tones, set into a wall of red jade.
Iver had actually seen this painting before—it was the work of an acquaintance of his.
It was painted by Adolf von Menzel, the former vice-headmaster of the Spirit Tower who had used his entire life, soul, and memory to create Extremely Pale Painting.
The painting was called Steel Rolling Plant, and it was an oil painting.
He had rendered the workers in the steel plant almost perfectly, capturing them working with intense concentration in harsh conditions. In the dim, dark-red factory, the glowing metal shone as brightly as the sun. Merely looking at it made one feel as though the heat, vitality, scorched stench, and dust were rushing toward them. The workers' movements were full of strength, as if they had come alive... The clanging of metal and the workers' discussions seemed to ring in Arsene's ears.
These were not merely exaggerated descriptions.
The closer they came to the painting, the more real it became.
The acrid smell of the factory grew stronger, while the nonexistent heat scorched Arsene until his cheeks felt hot.
And when they drew close enough...
Arsene vaguely realized that he had somehow found himself inside the factory.
—The painting had become a real, existing world!
He was no longer looking at the painting.