—
Their blades met midair—blue light against silver distortion. Each clash sent out waves of memory fragments, showing different versions of the life Hoshiro could have lived.
Kazuki and Ayame watched helplessly from a distance. They couldn't interfere—this fight wasn't physical.
It was *personal*.
—
The clone grinned behind his mask. "I remember when you hesitated. When you let Kaizen fall. When you ran instead of fought."
"I *learned* from those moments," Hoshiro snapped.
"No—you buried them."
A powerful slash from the clone knocked Hoshiro back into a pillar of fractured time. Around him, images played:
— Ayame crying, blade soaked in blood.
— Kazuki alone, screaming his name.
— A Tokyo burning because *he* wasn't fast enough.
Hoshiro dropped to one knee. The clone approached.
"You don't deserve to be the hero."
But before the blade could fall, Ayame's voice cut through the air: "You're not just his past. You're his *shadow*."
A pulse of crimson light erupted from her tether, and in a blinding flash, Hoshiro stood—eyes glowing fiercely.
"I'm not perfect," he said. "But I'm *real*."
—
With one final cry, he shattered the clone's blade—then drove his own through the reflection's chest.
The world stilled. The clone whispered, "Then… be better than me."
And vanished.
—
The sky cleared. The reflection was gone.
But the war wasn't over.