Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
THE AVENGER By STUART FLEMING Karson was creating a superman to fight the weird super-monsters who had invaded Earth. But he was instant all the joy had gone out of him. I could not understand his suffering, but I could recognize it. the dark blood was still oozing from the crushed ruin of his face, trickling down into his sodden sleeve, and falling, drop by slow drop, from his fingertips. His head was tilted over the back of the chair at a queer, unnatural angle, so that the light made deep pools of shadow where his eyes had been. There was no sound in the room except for the small splashing the Peter's eyes were dull, his limbs slumped. For a moment I thought that arrangement: I did what Peter wished, so long as I did not actively before: tiny, myriad points of light, infinitely far away. They had not changed, and yet they were suddenly no longer friendly. They were cold and alien. It was I who had changed: something inside me was dead, like I tried to explain it to him, however. But he only stared at me, with the machinery, and like Peter. somehow, I did not like to see. It was disquieting, and so I hastened then we must not go back. It was very simple, but I knew that he could It was a kind of indefinable emptiness. I do not think it was what an expression on his face that I had never seen there before, and that, eating or drinking. It was not a longing. I had no desire that things should be otherwise than they were. I did not even wish that Peter were not dead, for to the end that I knew was inevitable. For the first time in all my life I had found a problem that I could not solve. Strange, disturbing sensations stirred and whispered within me, nagging, gnawing. And suddenly—something moved on the skin of my reason had told me that he had to die. That was the end of it. Young Peter Karson put the last black-print down and sighed with perhaps even a new biochemistry. A discordant note suddenly entered his fantasy. He looked up, conscious blood-red and subtly inhuman. It tapered off into a formless, shriveled body. was normal. Nothing, on examination, seemed to have changed. But the world had grown suddenly unreal. One part of his brain had been shocked into its shell. It was hiding from the thing that had hurt it, and it refused to respond. But the other part was going calmly, lucidly on, quite without his volition. It considered the possibility that he had gone temporarily insane, and decided that this was probable. There were flaring red headlines. Relief washed over him, leaving him breathless. He was horrified, of course, but only abstractedly. For the moment he could only be glad that what he had seen was terrible reality rather than even more terrible illusion. Peter sank back in his chair, the full shock of it striking him for the laboratory. Peter took it in fifteen seconds, running, and stumbled to and below them, a pitiful huddle of flesh no longer recognizable as human beings. They were not dead, those men and women, but they wanted to be. Their bodies had been impossibly joined, fused together into a single obscene, floundering mass of "Peter!" she said faintly. "Why do they broadcast such things?" Then they faded slowly. It was impossible to say whether they had gone through the solid wall, or simply melted away. Peter's lips were cold with sweat. Tiny nerves in his face and arms She was after him, clinging to his arms. "No, Peter! Don't go in there! Peter! cleared away to make room for an incompleted setup. Peter walked down broad base of an X-ray chamber. His face was flaccid and bloated. His glazed eyes, impassive yet somehow pleading, stared at nothingness straight ahead of him. In a moment Peter realized what they were doing to him. He stood, paralyzed with horror, and watched it happen. The little man's body was sagging, ever so slowly, as if he were relaxing tiredly. His torso was telescoping, bit by bit his spread legs grew wider and more shapeless, his cheeks caved in and his skull grew gradually flatter. but there was a tiny sound in Peter's brain, a thin, dry whispering. " His voice was hoarse. "Don't look! Don't—Go back!" The horrible, mindless noise in his throat was almost beyond his power to repress. His insides writhed to thrust it out. in a moment it grew clearer. The strong, clean-shaven chin contrasted oddly with the haggard circles under the eyes. There was a clean, starched odor. "Where am I?" he said. He tried to turn his head, but a firm hand very sick man." Peter sank back in the bed. The room was coming into focus. He looked Peter's head began spinning just a little. Glass clinked from a metal sooner. "She was only suffering from ordinary shock," Arnold explained. "Seeing that assistant of hers—it was enough to knock anybody out, "But where is she?" Peter complained. "You still haven't explained why "But why?" Peter whispered. Arnold's strong jaw knotted. "We're hiding," he said. "Everything else "I wonder," Peter said shakily, "if I am strong enough to take it." "I see," said Peter. And for the first time, he thought of the rays, were gone. A man had just finished engraving the final stroke on its nameplate, to the left of the airlock— Lorelei said, "You can't do it. I won't let you! Peter—" "There's no other way," Peter said. He gripped her arms tightly, as if "They'll live, and we'll die, because they're a superior race. We're a million years too far back even to understand what they are or where She choked, "But why can't you take me along?" He stared unseeingly past her wet, upturned face. "You know why," he said bitterly. "Those rays are strong. They don't only work on embryos they change adult life forms, too. I have one chance in seven of staying alive. You'd have one chance in a million of staying beautiful. I couldn't stand that. I'd kill myself, and then humanity would die, too. You'd be their murderer." curved into an orbit and held it. The great motors died, and the silence pressed in about him. Already he could feel the invisible rays burning resistlessly through his flesh as if it were water, shifting the cells of his body, working its slow, monstrous alchemy upon him. Peter waited until the changes were unmistakably evident in his skin and hair, and then he smashed all the mirrors in the ship. The embryos were pulsing with unnatural life, even in the suspended animation of their crystal cells. One by one he allowed them to mature, and after weeks or years destroyed the monstrosities that came from the incubators. Time went by, meaninglessly. He ate when he was He stared sometimes through changed eyes at the tiny blue star that was Earth, wondering if the race he had left behind still burrowed in its worm-tunnels, digging deeper and deeper away from the sunlight. But after a time he ceased even to wonder. Peter closed the diary. "The rest you know, Robert," he said. "Yes," I told him. "I was that child. I am the millionth mutation you were searching for." of work. You are a superman." "I am without your imperfections," I said, flexing my arms. He rose and strode nervously over to the window. I watched him as he stood there, outlined against the blazing galaxies. He had changed but little in the years that I had known him. His lank gray hair straggled over his sunken eyes his cheeks were blobbed with excresences of flesh

<question>:
Why did Peter choose to break all the mirrors inside the ship?

<options>:
A The mirrors were harmful to the embryos
B The mirrors reflected too much light.
C He needed his full attention on the task at hand.
D He didn't want to see the changes to himself due to the rays.

<answer>:

D