.Evan's POV
The final trial.
Come face to face with the darkness in your heart.
With your fear.
I walk forward, though I have no sense of direction anymore.
The dungeon has stripped everything away—no walls, no corridors, just an endless, reflective void beneath my feet. Each step echoes, vanishing into the emptiness around me.
Then—
A voice.
"Well, someone is looking different."
I stop.
Slowly, I turn.
Standing before me is a man, older, worn by time. His clothes are tattered, his stance familiar yet lesser, and in his hand is a chipped, rusted sword—one that has clearly seen too many battles and won too few.
I sigh, already knowing who he is.
I know him too well.
Me.
From my past life.
The other me tilts his head, studying me with an unreadable expression.
"Are we going to fight, orrr…?" I say, crossing my arms.
The older version of me lets out a bitter laugh.
