The boy was asleep, curled against the hollow of a broken wall, his small frame shivering beneath the tattered cloak Alpha had laid over him. His breath was soft, barely audible over the wind that hissed between the ruins like a whisper through teeth.
Alpha sat nearby, eyes wide open, unmoving.
Vanitas lay across his lap, still and silent. But its presence pulsed in his hand—a quiet rhythm, like the beat of a heart that wasn't his.
He stared into the dying embers of their fire. It should've been warm. It wasn't.
In the flickering glow, his reflection danced across the sword's blackened steel. And for a moment just a blink, his reflection moved before he did.
He froze.
The reflection smiled.
Alpha blinked, and it was gone.
His throat felt tight.
He hadn't slept in two days. Not really. Not since Selene vanished into the shadows and left her words behind like thorns buried in flesh.
You wield it, but you do not understand it.
He had meant to brush her off. To forget her. But her voice returned, again and again, every time he gripped the hilt. Every time Vanitas grew colder.
They had walked all morning. By afternoon, the boy had stopped talking. He walked with his head down, eyes on the ground. Alpha didn't ask why. He knew the silence that followed grief.
He wore it every day.
The path bent near an old bridge. Beneath it, the river ran thin and red, rusted with blood long dried. Alpha paused.
He'd been here before.
Not in this lifetime. But in another. A loop, maybe. Or a memory not his own.
He stared down at the water, and in the reflection
Selene.
Standing beside him. Pale. Watching.
His breath caught.
"Why do you keep coming back?" he whispered.
The reflection didn't answer.
But Vanitas hummed in his hand, colder than ice.
That night, the dreams returned.
Alpha stood in the center of a circle, surrounded by dozens of others. Warriors. Mages. Strangers. All of them holding blades like his.
Twin-wielders.
Each was bound to a sword. Each faced a mirror.
And inside those mirrors, their reflections moved first.
One by one, the reflections stepped out, living echoes, identical but twisted.
And one by one, the wielders were forced to fight.
To survive, you had to kill your Echo.
If you hesitated… the reflection became real. You faded.
Alpha turned to see his own Echo step forward, calm, smiling faintly, Vanitas gleaming at its side.
"Do you know which of us is real?" it asked.
Alpha didn't answer.
"You're tired," it said gently. "Let me take the weight. Let me be you."
Alpha stepped back.
The others were falling. Screams. Blades. Blood soaking the ancient stones.
Kill your Echo, or be consumed.
His hand shook as he raised Vanitas.
The Echo smiled wider. "You already lost. You just haven't admitted it yet."
He woke in a gasp, hand clenched around the sword.
The boy was watching him. Silent. Eyes wide, fearful.
Alpha tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat.
"…It was just a dream," he whispered hoarsely.
The boy nodded, but didn't move.
Alpha looked down.
Vanitas was glowing faintly. And a thin line of blood, his blood dripped from his palm.
He had gripped the blade too tightly.
He stared at it, cold and gleaming, as the whispers began again.
Which one of us woke up, Alpha?
The next night, the fire didn't stay lit.
No matter how many sparks Alpha struck, the flames died faster than they were born. As if the cold itself were feeding on the heat.
The boy had fallen into a feverish sleep, murmuring fragments of memories that weren't his. Words in tongues no child should know. Names that made the shadows twitch.
Alpha sat beside him, drenched in silence.
Vanitas rested across his knees.
And then
She stepped out of the dark.
Selene.
Not walking. Not blinking. Just there, as if the night itself had decided to grow bones.
Alpha didn't move. "You're not real."
She tilted her head. "No more than you are."
The wind whispered through her hair, silver and still wet, wet with what?
Alpha's grip tightened. "What do you want?"
She didn't answer. She just watched him. Eyes too ancient to belong to a face so young.
Then she spoke.
"Do you know what it means to pass the Ritual of Reflections?"
Alpha's breath misted. Cold again. Always cold when she spoke.
"You kill your Echo," he said.
Selene smiled. "That's the simplified version."
She walked forward. Her steps didn't disturb the ground. "The ritual was created by the first Twin Wielders. Those chosen by swords forged from the souls of dead gods. Each sword demanded balance—a soul and its shadow."
She crouched by the firepit, watching embers twitch in the ash.
"Each wielder had to step into the Mirror. To face themselves. Not a dream. Not an illusion. But a true echo, made flesh. Made choice."
She glanced up.
"You kill your Echo to remain real. But that's a lie."
Alpha's voice cracked. "What do you mean?"
Selene reached into the fire and pulled out a coal. Her skin didn't burn.
"I didn't kill mine."
She tossed the ember aside. It hissed in the grass, dying with a shriek.
"I loved her," Selene said quietly.
Alpha flinched.
"She was me. Not just a reflection, but the me I could've been. Softer. Kinder. The me before the war. Before the blades."
She stood, facing the stars.
"She begged me not to kill her. So I didn't."
Alpha stood slowly, his voice low. "Then… what happened?"
Selene turned. And for the first time, Alpha saw it.
Two shadows beneath her feet.
"I let her live," she said. "I gave her the body."
Alpha's throat tightened. "Then who are you?"
Selene stepped closer.
"I'm the Echo. The one that wasn't meant to survive. The one she spared. The one who clawed her way into reality and never left."
Vanitas pulsed in Alpha's hand, fast, panicked.
"Impossible," he whispered.
"No," she said softly. "I remember her life. Her pain. I carry it. Because that's what Echoes do. We carry what the real ones couldn't bear."
She paused.
Then crouched near the boy, brushing his hair back gently.
"He dreams in languages older than this world," she murmured. "You should be more careful who you carry with you, Alpha."
Alpha didn't move.
Selene stood.
"I warned you about Elaris because I've seen what waits for you there. The Mirror still stands."
She walked past him.
"I wonder," she said as her silhouette bled into the dark. "When it comes time to choose… which of you will survive?"
The fire roared to life behind her. No spark. No tinder. Just flame.
The boy gasped awake, sitting bolt upright.
Alpha turned, but Selene was gone.
And there were now two shadows behind him