The fog curled around Morgan's boots, heavy and unyielding, hiding the ground beneath him. Shapes flickered at the edge of his vision, dissolving before they could take form. It was quiet, too quiet, until the mist stirred and another figure stepped forward.
She moved with confidence, each step cutting clean through the haze. Her hair fell dark over her shoulders, her eyes sharp and familiar in a way that made his stomach turn. She was him and yet not him. Where he carried the weight of the badge, she carried herself with the poise of power, every detail of her presence radiating a life opposite to his own.
"You are me," Morgan said, though the words felt strange on his tongue.
"And you are me," Morgana answered. Her voice was smooth, controlled, with an edge that came from command rather than law. She tilted her head, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Different paths. Different choices. Different worlds."
