The silence was suffocating. The air inside the cathedral thickened, pressing against Vivian's skin like a vice. The reflection of herself—the impossible, unnatural duplicate—stood motionless near the altar, its head tilted slightly, as if amused.
Sebastian's blade gleamed in the dim light, his grip tightening. "What is that?"
Lucian didn't answer. His gaze was locked on the figure, his expression dark with something unreadable. Elaria had stepped back, her breath uneven, fingers trembling against the hilt of her dagger.
The reflection—no, the thing—mirroring Vivian's face, took a step forward. Its feet made no sound against the stone floor.
"You already know, don't you?" it whispered. Its voice was hers, but layered, distorted, as if spoken from the depths of an abyss. "You've known since the beginning."
Vivian's heart pounded against her ribs. She swallowed hard, pushing down the rising tide of nausea and fear. "No."
The figure's lips curled into a knowing smile. "You can't lie to me. I am you."
Sebastian moved first, stepping between them. "Whatever this is, it's not real. We need to leave."
"Leave?" The reflection chuckled, a hollow, echoing sound. "There's nowhere left to run."
The torches on the walls flickered wildly, shadows stretching unnaturally long. The air hummed with something unseen, something powerful. The cathedral trembled beneath their feet, the walls whispering in tongues long forgotten.
Vivian knew what this was.
She had been carrying it all along.
It had always been inside her.
A sudden burst of wind sent shards of broken glass flying from the shattered windows, swirling around them in a storm of light and darkness. The reflection didn't flinch. It simply stood there, watching, waiting.
Then, without warning, it moved.
Too fast.
Sebastian barely managed to parry as the figure lunged, its form flickering like a candle's flame. Steel met steel, but the sound was wrong—hollow, distant, like an echo from another world.
Lucian was already in motion, his dagger slicing through empty air as the figure danced between them, untouchable. Elaria cast a spell—something bright, golden—but the light bent around the reflection as if it didn't exist at all.
Vivian felt it. The pull. The tether between herself and the thing before her.
This wasn't just an enemy.
It was a part of her.
"Vivian!" Lucian's voice cut through the chaos. "You have to end this!"
She knew what he meant.
This wasn't a battle that could be won with weapons.
It was a battle of will.
Vivian closed her eyes. The sounds of the fight faded. The whirlwind of magic and steel dissolved into nothing.
She reached inward.
Deeper.
Through the layers of fear, of doubt, of everything she had buried for so long.
And there it was.
A core of darkness.
A piece of something ancient, something relentless.
It whispered to her. Promised power. Promised truth.
But she had seen what that power did.
She opened her eyes.
The reflection was inches from her, its smirk still in place. But its form was flickering now, its edges fraying.
Vivian exhaled.
And then, she let go.
A shockwave of light erupted from her chest, swallowing the darkness whole. The reflection's form twisted, its features contorting in a silent scream.
Then—
It shattered.
The cathedral fell still.
The whispers stopped.
And Vivian… was whole again.
Lucian knelt beside her, his expression unreadable. "It's over."
Sebastian let out a breath, lowering his blade. Elaria wiped a shaking hand across her face, eyes still wide with shock.
Vivian looked down at her hands.
For the first time in years, they weren't shaking.
She had won.
But at what cost?
To be continued...