The doppelgänger's blade slammed into Noct's, sending him sprawling across the cold stone floor. His arms trembled from the impact, the old sword nearly slipping from his fingers.
He gasped for breath, chest burning, legs numb.
The thing was faster. Stronger. Every strike carried precision born of knowledge—it knew his style, his movements, his weaknesses.
It was him.
But perfected.
Blood trickled from a gash across his shoulder. His left eye was swelling shut. He tried to get up again, but his knees buckled. His body was failing.
I can't win, he thought bitterly. I can't beat this thing.
The doppelgänger approached slowly, steps echoing in the empty space. Noct's vision blurred. He crawled, grabbing for the sword again.
"I'm not you," he whispered.
"Not yet," the doppelgänger answered, raising its blade.
The killing blow came.
Noct rolled aside at the last second, the blade cutting deep into the ground. He screamed and plunged the sword into the creature's ribs—not clean, not graceful, just desperate.
It howled. For the first time, it felt pain.
That was enough.
Noct scrambled to his feet, gripping the sword with both hands. He didn't think. He just fought. Dodging wildly, swinging recklessly. He wasn't stronger, but he was more desperate. More alive.
In the end, the final blow came not from strength—but from collapse.
He drove the blade through the creature's heart as they both fell to the ground, rolling together in a blur of blood and stone.
And then the thing dissolved.
Light flickered. The chamber grew silent.
Noct lay on the floor, bleeding, broken, but breathing.
He didn't even have the strength to lift his head.
>The bloodwind Guild –Hanger bay
Selene had her gear packed. Sword sharpened. Her requisition filed.
She stood at the hangar bay, ready to board the first transport toward the labyrinth where her brother had gone missing.
But just as she placed her foot on the ramp, a messenger rushed toward her.
"Vice-Captain Valen!" he shouted.
She turned, eyes narrowing.
"A directive from the Guildmaster," the man said, out of breath. "You're being redeployed. Priority one—an red-rank nexus breach overseas. Coalition is requesting the blood wind for reinforcements."
She stiffened. "No. I have unfinished business."
"The Guildmaster insisted. This takes precedence. Your transport leaves in twenty minutes."
Selene stood frozen.
Her fist clenched, trembling at her side.
Not now. Not when I'm so close.
But her duty—her oath—bound her.
She turned away from the labyrinth's image on the mission screen.
"…I'll come back," she whispered.
>Academy Grounds – Instructor Vern's Office
The rain tapped gently against the window as Vern stared out into the dark courtyard, a half-empty cup of cold tea on his desk.
The screen on his terminal blinked softly, still displaying mission data from the last expedition.
He had spent days looking through it. Cross-referencing timelines. Analyzing behavior patterns. Trying to feel what went wrong.
But there was nothing concrete. Just instincts. And instincts, he reminded himself, weren't facts.
He leaned back, eyes closed.
"…Maybe I was wrong," he murmured.
A heavy breath escaped him. "Maybe he really did fall. Maybe she told the truth."
He picked up the mission report and set it aside, filing it into a completed folder.
The system logged the action: Case Closed – venator Cadet Noct Valen: Presumed Deceased
For now, that would have to be enough.
But in the silence, something still gnawed at him.
Something unfinished.