The chair turned slowly, as if pushed by an invisible hand.
The figure seated in it was .
Not the from now, with shadows coiled beneath my skin and a false hydra lurking in the corners of my consciousness. The from before. From Earth. Dark hair, unremarkable clothes, the face of soone who had never cast a spell in his life.
"You look tired," the other said.
"I am tired."
"When aren’t you?"
The other smiled, and it was strange seeing that expression on a face that had once been mine. Strange and wrong, like looking into a mirror that reflected not what was, but what could have been.
"You could stop, you know," the other continued. "Walk away. Let Marcellus handle the church. Let Trish and the other two handle the archmage. Let soone else carry the weight for once."
"And let millions die?"
"You’re not doing this for the people."
I grinned. "Of course, I’m doing it for Evelina."
"Then what about Trish? Have you completely forgotten about her? Sure, you love Evelina, but that was before you regained your repressed mories of Trish. Tell , was she nothing to you? To us?"
I narrowed my eyes. Of course, the archmage wouldn’t make this easy for . This wasn’t just a clone of from my mind; it was a version of from right after the Beijing incident, before my obsession with Evelina had reached its peak.
I was self-aware enough to know that, especially now that I had my mories back.
"It’s in the past," I replied.
"Yes, Trish died that day... but now she’s back..." the other replied.
"You’re not the real . You can’t tell what to do."
"Then I’ll just steal your body from you."
I tilted my head and let out a disbelieving laugh. "What?"
"I’ll take control of your body, make a deal with the archmage for a soul-splitting spell, and live with Trish," he replied
This...
Is this version of serious? Wait... does he even count as a version of ? This still has to be an illusion, right?
"You’re just an illusion, you can’t even back up what you say. Or are you so dumb you’re deluding yourself into thinking you’re real?"
"If I am an illusion, then you’re insane for talking to in the first place. But that’s beside the point, because I ain’t an illusion, Nathan. You should know better. The archmage has spells that border on creating perfect clones, not just illusions."
"So you’re telling you’re a perfect clone of my past self?"
"Exactly..."
The other stood up from the chair, rolling his shoulders like he was settling into a body that didn’t quite fit. Sa movents I used to make. Sa little habits. It was unsettling in a way that had nothing to do with magic.
"You’re thinking about killing ," he said.
"Crossed my mind."
"Wouldn’t work. We’re connected now. Whatever you do to , you do to yourself." He tapped his chest. "Archmage’s insurance policy. Clever old bastard, isn’t he?"
"Debatable."
I kept my shadows coiled close, not attacking but not retreating either. The chamber pressed in around us, the walls lined with those screaming faces, frozen in their eternal tornt. The chair sat empty now, still turning slowly in place.
"So what’s your play?" I asked. "Fight for control? Hope the archmage actually keeps his end of the bargain?"
"He will. He’s bored, not dishonest. Besides, he finds this entertaining."
"You’re not ."
"I’m exactly you. That’s the problem, isn’t it? You’ve been running from what you are for years. Hiding behind Evelina. Hiding behind your new students. Hiding behind this mission to stop the church." The other took a step closer. "But you can’t hide from . I’m the part of you that doesn’t care about any of that. I’m the part that just wants to be happy."
"And you think taking my body will make you happy?"
"I think it’ll make Trish happy."
My jaw tightened.
The other saw it and smiled, that crooked smile that used to look back at from bathroom mirrors. "There it is. That guilt. You think she doesn’t notice? You think she doesn’t feel it every ti you look at her? She’s sharing a body with Evelina, Nathan. She knows exactly how you feel."
"I’m not—"
"You’re not what? In love with her? Still? After everything?" He laughed, soft and bitter. "You almost died for her. You made a deal with a demon because of your guilt for her. But sure. Tell yourself it’s all for Evelina."
I said nothing.
The other circled slowly, his footsteps silent on the marble floor. The screaming faces on the walls seed to watch him pass, their carved eyes tracking his movent.
"The archmage gave a choice," he said. "I could stay here, trapped in this library, watching you waste the second chance you have. Or I could take what’s mine."
"Nothing about this is yours." I hurled the book to the ground as the false hydra’s head manifested behind , its cruel smile and bloodied face erging, ready to pounce. "And you’re an idiot if you think I’ll let you defile Evelina’s love just so you can live in a fairytale with soone we once loved."
[Endless Fang]
The other drew a perfect copy of my sword from the shadows, his hands tightening around the hilt as his eyes narrowed into sothing colder, deadlier.
So he has my powers too...?
"Die, Nathan," he said.
I only laughed, summoning the sa sword and settling into my stance. "Have I always been such a selfish bastard that I’d even fight myself over an obsession...?"
"I think you already know the answer."
"Right..."
"The answer’s yes." We said it at the sa ti.
The other moved first.
Sa speed. Sa instincts. Sa opening strike I’d used a hundred tis in training. His blade ca in low, aiming for my ribs, and I parried it away with a sharp crack of tal against tal.
"You’re predictable," I said.
"So are you."
He twisted mid-step, bringing the sword around in a wide arc that I barely managed to duck. The blade whistled over my head, close enough to shear off a few strands of hair, and I retaliated with a thrust toward his chest.
He sidestepped. Of course he did.
We circled each other, swords raised, shadows writhing at our feet like agitated snakes. The false hydra’s heads lood behind , their invisible jaws gaping, but they couldn’t strike. Not without hitting too.
"Having second thoughts?" the other taunted.
"Just deciding where to bury the body."
"There is no body, Nathan. We’re the sa. Kill , and you kill a part of yourself."
"Trying to gaslight ? You know for a fact this sword could dispel any protective magic the archmage put on you with a single touch," I replied.
"Nothing gets past you, huh?"
"Now you’re just complinting yourself at this point."
"We always did have a big ego."
The other lunged again, but this ti I didn’t parry. I stepped inside his guard, closer than the sword could cut, and drove my elbow into his throat.
He staggered back, gasping, and I followed.
Our blades t again, sparking in the dim light, but I kept pushing, kept pressing, kept forcing him back toward the chair. The screaming faces on the walls seed to lean in, watching, waiting.
"You can’t win," he choked out, recovering his stance.
"I don’t need to win. I just need to last."
"Last for what?"
I didn’t answer.
Because behind him, behind the chair, behind the walls of screaming faces, I’d seen it. A crack. Thin, almost invisible, running from floor to ceiling like a fault line in reality itself.
This chamber was an illusion.
Not him. Not entirely. But the room, the walls, the sense of being trapped... that was all constructed. A construct slowly being cleaved open by the swords in our hands.
And if this chamber followed the sa pattern as before, that ant that once these walls cracked open, more stupid illusions of previous students would start pouring in.
And unlike , this bastard hadn’t developed the ntal resilience and stubbornness I gained when Fiona died back in the Cold Iron District. That ant that while he was an exact copy of in skill, he definitely wasn’t like when it ca to ntal strength.
That ant that once those illusions started pouring in, he wouldn’t be able to handle the guilt of seeing their faces again.
It was a gamble, yes, but... judging by how obsessed he still was with Trish, I thought my gamble, that he was far less ntally resilient than I am now, would pay off.
"You’re looking at sothing," the other said, his eyes narrowing.
"Just admiring the decor."
"Liar."
SLASH!
CLANG!
SLASH!
CLANG!
The crack widened.
Neither of us had moved toward it, but it grew anyway, splitting the carved faces in half, splitting the marble, splitting the very air. Through the gap, I could see sothing else. Another chamber. Filled with shapes that hadn’t fully ford yet.
Shapes that looked like people.
Shapes that looked like my students.
The other followed my gaze, and for just a mont, his expression flickered. The cold confidence wavered, replaced by sothing rawer. Sothing human.
"You’re planning sothing," he said.
"I’m always planning sothing."
"You think I don’t know what you’re doing? You think I can’t see that crack? You think I don’t know what’s on the other side?"
"I think you know exactly what’s on the other side," I said, lowering my sword slightly. "I think that’s why you’re scared."
"I’m not scared."
"You’re shaking."
He looked down at his hands. The sword trembled in his grip, barely perceptible, but there. The sa tremor I used to have, back when I still dread about the faces of everyone I couldn’t save.
"That’s not—"
"It is." I took a step closer. "You’re . The from before. The who hadn’t learned to live with it yet. The who buried everything in the Crown of Thorns to hide from his guilt."
"Shut up."
"The who blad himself for Trish. For Lucas. For all of them."
"And you’re telling you’re above that now!?"
"No, but unlike you, spending ti in this new world was more than enough to give enough coping chanisms to handle it, also... I really do love Evelina." I smirked at the last word.
He lunged, but the swing was wild, unfocused. I sidestepped easily and watched him stumble past , off-balance, his sword scraping against the marble floor.
And with that, the crack split wider.
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