Lightning carved across the storm-wracked sky, its light spilling through the shattered roof of the Sovereign's fallen hall. Below, two figures stood locked in that flickering brilliance — Kael, bathed in a blood-red glow, and Kaelen, wrapped in shadows so deep they seemed to swallow the world.
The companions watched from the fractured stairway — too far to help, too terrified to intervene.
Kaelen's voice rolled like thunder.
"You've walked far, Kael. But every step brought you closer to this — not freedom, not vengeance… inevitability."
Kael's grip on his blade tightened until the metal whined. "Then let's see how inevitable you are when I carve the darkness out of you."
The void answered before Kaelen could.
Shadows burst outward, taking form — dozens of specters coalescing into armored figures, their eyes burning with hollow light. Each one carried a weapon forged from pure nothingness. They didn't move like soldiers; they flowed, gliding forward as though dragged by the same pull that ruled the abyss.
Kael's crimson aura pulsed once — slow, deliberate. His boots cracked the stone beneath him.
He whispered, almost reverently:
"Let them come."
And they came.
The first wave struck like a storm tide. Kael met it head-on, blade sweeping in a perfect horizontal arc. The edge carved through six phantoms in one motion, their bodies bursting into vaporized darkness. Black lightning flared from his shoulders, coursing down the length of his sword — Crimson Reaver — as if the blade itself roared with hunger.
"Bladewind—!"
He spun once, twice, thrice — each rotation releasing crescents of red lightning that shredded the next ranks of wraiths into dust. Sparks ignited in the air, and the entire hall glowed red.
But Kaelen only lifted his staff. The void shifted.
"You think they're your enemies?" he murmured. "They are your reflection."
The specters dissolved — and reformed.
This time, they took his shape.
Dozens of Kaels — same hair, same stance, same fury — each one gripping a phantom version of his sword. They surrounded him in silence, eyes empty but focused, their intent identical: kill him.
Kael froze.
For an instant, the memory of the ruins of Rivenhart flashed before his eyes — his home aflame, his reflection burning in shattered glass.
Then he smiled.
"Fine."
He vanished.
When he reappeared, he was already mid-swing, crimson arcs tearing through the copies. He cut left — feinted right — stabbed backward — every movement a blur. But each time he destroyed one, two more stepped forward. Their strikes mirrored his exactly. Blades clashed in a perfect dance of symmetry.
The companions watched in disbelief.
"Gods," Serana whispered. "They're his mirror souls."
"They're Kaelen's lesson," Alaric said, voice grim. "Fight yourself — or be consumed by what made you."
Kael's blade locked against one of his doubles — sparks flying between them. The phantom smirked, identical to his own.
"You'll always be me," it hissed.
Kael gritted his teeth — and roared.
"No."
His aura detonated.
A shockwave blasted the phantoms back as red lightning erupted from his body, crawling up the walls, searing the stone black. His eyes glowed — deeper, sharper — like molten rubies.
Then he raised his sword high and bellowed a name he'd never spoken before:
"Crimson Sovereignty — BREAK!"
The world bent.
A vertical slash ripped through the hall, slicing not just the floor but the air itself. The red lightning exploded outward, consuming every shadow, every phantom Kael in its path. The ground split in two, and for a moment — silence.
Only Kael remained, his sword buried deep into the fractured marble.
Kaelen stood at the far end of the destruction, his cloak torn, his staff cracked — but his eyes burned brighter than ever.
"Well done," he said softly. "You've surpassed what I made of you."
Kael lifted his head. His voice was raw, quiet. "Then why do I still feel like I'm falling?"
Kaelen stepped closer. The void behind him pulsed — deep, rhythmic, alive. "Because you're still tethered. You think killing me will free you? No, Kael. It will finish what I began."
Kael's blade trembled in his hand, his aura faltering for the first time.
"I am not your weapon."
Kaelen smiled — not cruelly, but with something like sorrow.
"You were never mine, boy. You were the abyss's."
He raised his staff.
The void opened.
A colossal eye — black, ancient, rimmed with silver fire — appeared in the air above them, staring down as though the heavens themselves had grown malignant. The pressure crushed the air, bending reality around its gaze.
Kael staggered. His aura dimmed under the weight.
The companions dropped to their knees, gasping as the darkness pressed on their lungs, their hearts.
Kaelen stood firm.
"Do you see now? This is what I touched — what lies beneath all magic, all kingdoms, all life."
Kael forced himself upright, teeth clenched, lightning flickering weakly.
"I don't care what it is. I'll cut through it too."
Kaelen looked almost proud.
"Then prove it."
And he vanished into the eye.
Kael raised his sword — crimson lightning wrapping around the blade like fire chains — and stepped into the black void after him.