The blast rippled outward—crimson lightning surged from the shadow's hand, tearing through the chamber. Raik barely had time to hurl himself aside as a wave of glass and force tore past. Igris held firm, his massive blade raised, absorbing the brunt with a grunt of effort.
Adexander didn't move.
He stepped into the blast.
The mirrored version of himself snarled.
> "Still arrogant. Still reckless."
But Adexander's body blurred—his fist surged forward, meeting the lightning head-on.
The explosion rocked the room, but Adexander stood tall, his palm scorched, his eyes burning brighter than ever.
> "I'm not that man anymore."
The shadow grinned, feral.
> "No. You're less. You've forgotten the pain. The rage. The betrayal. Let me remind you—"
He vanished in a flicker of black-red energy—and reappeared behind Raik, blade already mid-swing.
> "RAIK!" Igris bellowed.
But Adexander was faster.
Steel clashed with bare hands—Adexander caught the ghost's blade with his fingers, blood trickling down his arm.
> "You won't touch what's mine."
With a roar, Adexander hurled the shadow across the chamber, the force cracking another mirror.
Raik, heart pounding, scrambled back. "Thanks for the save—please keep doing that!"
> "Focus," Igris growled. "This thing isn't just strong. It knows his moves."
The shadow recovered mid-air, landing in a crouch.
> "That's right," it whispered. "Because I am him. Every unspoken hatred. Every drop of vengeance. I'm the part that remembers being killed."
He snapped his fingers.
The mirrors began to crack.
One by one.
Dozens of shadows stepped forth. Some wielded spears. Some wings. One bore a crown of flame.
> "I remember all of me."
Adexander's eyes narrowed.
> "Then allow me to rewrite that memory."
Crimson light began to rise from his skin—his aura flaring like a dying star reborn.
Igris moved to his side.
> "Orders?"
Adexander raised a hand, his blood-soaked fingers pointing forward.
> "Don't hold back."
---
The chamber descended into war.
Igris clashed with a winged version of the King, their blades sparking through the air like lightning. Raik danced between shadows, hurling daggers laced with light magic, trying not to scream every time one nearly took his head off.
And Adexander—
He fought himself.
Crimson against crimson. Fist against fist. Every blow rang with ancient power. Every strike peeled away more of what had once been.
> "You're nothing without the throne!" the shadow bellowed.
Adexander snarled.
> "The throne didn't make me."
> CRACK!
A bone broke. The shadow reeled. Adexander pressed in.
> "Pain didn't break me."
He drove his fist into the shade's chest.
> "Death didn't end me."
He pulled back—his arm igniting with the Crimson Tempest again.
> "You're not me."
And with a roar, he obliterated the shadow.
It burst like shattered memory—dust and ash—taking the other reflections with it. The chamber went silent.
Only the real Adexander remained, kneeling amid the wreckage.
Raik walked up behind him.
> "So… therapy, huh?"
Adexander let out a breath. Almost a laugh.
> "Something like that."
Igris stood, wiping blood from his blade.
> "Your mind is a battlefield, my liege."
> "Then it's time I won the war," Adexander muttered.
He stood slowly and looked at the one remaining mirror. This one was different. It didn't reflect anything.
Just darkness.
> "We're not done yet," he whispered.
The mirror pulsed.
And deep within it—
A heartbeat.