The fake Ron in the mirror was stunned:
"What?"
"We are fake, you are real."
Ron continued, his tone full of conviction, as if he had convinced himself:
"Since you truly exist, you should step out and explore the fascinating Wizard World, to experience real adventures and challenges."
He made an inviting gesture:
"And we fakes should just stay honestly in this mirror maze, reflecting on our fake nature."
The fake Eve in the mirror started to panic:
"Wait... If we go out, then who will be the real us in the mirror?"
The fake Ron also fell into confusion:
"That’s right! If the mirror no longer has us, then these mirrors lose their meaning.
But if we don’t go out, how can we prove we’re more real than those fakes outside?"
The two illusions began to argue fiercely: "Should we go out or stay?"
"How should I know! You’re the real one, you decide!"
"But if I’m real, why should I listen to a fake like you?"
"Then I don’t know if I’m real or fake either!"
Their argument grew more intense, and they ended up wrestling, stirring the other reflections in the mirror into chaos.
Taking advantage of the chaos, the mirror maze began to shake violently and eventually dissipated.
Laughter full of satisfaction echoed in the air:
"Hahaha! Reverse psychology! I like it! Solve a paradox with a paradox, combat absurdity with absurdity!"
The voice carried a tone of appreciation:
"You’re starting to understand my philosophy... The boundary between real and fake is always drawn by humans!"
.........
The final test was more direct and more brutal than the previous ones.
A classical classroom suddenly appeared before them.
On the blackboard, there was a question written with neat chalk.
"The answer to this question is incorrect. What is the answer to this question?"
A gold-rimmed glasses-wearing owl sat at the podium.
Its feathers were impeccably groomed, and it wore a tie symbolizing authority around its neck.
The owl spoke with a solemn and commanding voice:
"Students, you have thirty seconds to answer the question."
Its gaze was as sharp as an eagle’s:
"A wrong answer will result in a penalty of standing for ten thousand years. Beware, not ten thousand minutes, not ten thousand hours, but a full ten thousand years!"
Eve heard the length of time, her brow furrowed:
"How do we answer? If we say the answer is ’incorrect’, it means the answer to the question is incorrect, which makes the answer correct... But if the answer is correct, it contradicts the premise of the question..."
Her thoughts began to knot:
"Saying it’s right makes it wrong, saying it’s wrong...it’s still wrong! This is an unsolvable cycle!"
Professor Owl pushed up his glasses, revealing a rather threatening smile:
"Twenty-five seconds left. I suggest you think quickly; standing for ten thousand years is no joke."
It pointed to the back of the classroom, where indeed several petrified figures stood, evidently victims of wrong answers to previous questions.
Those statues held expressions of despair and pain, silently speaking to the reality of the punishment.
Ron looked at the question, suddenly remembering the ancient philosophical discussion on the "liar paradox."
He pondered for a moment, then raised his hand: "Teacher, I have a question."
"What question?"
Professor Owl pushed his glasses, looking somewhat impatient:
"Fifteen seconds left, you better hurry."
"Did you come up with this question?"
"Of course."
Professor Owl answered without hesitation: "As the professor here, all questions are designed by me."
"So, if we answer correctly, does it mean you created a question with a correct answer?"
Ron’s tone became increasingly aggressive:
"But the question itself says ’the answer is incorrect,’ does that mean your question’s premise is incorrect?"
Professor Owl began to realize something, a hint of panic in his eyes:
"This...wait..."
"If we answer incorrectly, does it mean you made a question without a correct answer?"
Ron continued his line of questioning:
"Then as a professor, why would you design a question that can’t be answered to trouble students? Is such a professor competent?"
Professor Owl began to sweat, his feathers even a bit disheveled:
"I...this...you can’t question the teacher like this..."
"So, no matter how we answer, it shows there’s a problem with you as the creator of the question."
Ron’s voice became cold and sharp:
"Since the professor who designed the question has a problem, the question itself loses its authority.
Why should we answer a question with an unreliable source?"
He glanced around the classroom, then said:
"Moreover, if this classroom itself is a test set up by the King of Absurdity, then the identity of ’teacher’ is fake too.
Why should we take a question from a fake teacher seriously?"
Professor Owl was completely bewildered, its gaze shifting from authoritative to confused.
Suddenly, it burst out laughing: "Hahaha! Wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!"
The professor’s tone began to change, gradually adopting the King of Absurdity’s unique playful tone:
"You have passed! That’s the real answer!"
The classroom began to dissolve, and the owl’s figure became blurry: