Shichiro stepped forward, glowing like a newborn sun. Scylla recoiled, her monstrous shadows twisting away from the heat pouring off him.
His eyes opened, pure white, burning.
He whispered:
"Let's finish this."
And the world erupted.
A shockwave of solar energy blasted across the battlefield. Scylla roared, tentacles flailing, trying to shield herself, but the light pierced straight through.
Shichiro blurred forward.
One step.
A flash of white.
A single strike, clean, absolute.
Scylla's form cracked like heated stone. Her body split into lines of light, trembling, convulsing.
And then she burst apart, dissolving into glittering fragments that fell into the sea like dying stars.
Silence followed.
Everyone stared. Breathing heavy. Disbelieving.
Shichirō lowered his hand.
"It's over."
The waves calmed. The sky dimmed back to normal.
And then.
Something clicked behind them.
A soft step.
A breath.
A voice identical to Shichiro's:
"Over? Not even close."
They turned.
Standing on the ruined shore…
Was Shichiro.
Perfectly copied.
Same height. Same face. Same clothes.
But with a smile that wasn't his.
The Aethermimic had returned.
And now.
it had chosen him.
The air felt wrong.
Not dangerous.Not tense.Just… wrong.
The creature stood shaped like Shichiro, but its presence was empty, like someone painted a human smile onto a shadow. Its eyes reflected nothing. Not fear. Not hatred. Not curiosity.
Just a hollow, hungry interest.
Kentarō lifted his daggers again, even though his arms were shaking. "Guys… tell me you're seeing that."
Aegis held Ketsuki behind his shield. "Yeah. I'm seeing it. I'm just not believing it."
The Aethermimic tilted its head. When it spoke, the voice was perfect.
"Your heart is loud now. Bright. I want it."
Rokuro swallowed hard. "Nope. I hate that. Absolutely hate that. Why did you have to come back bro.."
The aethermimic raised its hand.
Light gathered… but it wasn't solar.It was a reflection of solar.A twisted echo of what Shichiro had awakened.
Shichiro stepped forward, wings of fire curling behind him.
"That power isn't yours."
The impostor copied the movement, fire wings blooming behind it too… except its flames didn't burn. They flickered like an afterimage, fake and sickly.
"That power isn't yours," the creature repeated.
Like a broken mirror.
Kentarō spit to the side. "I swear if this thing starts copying our taxes next."
"Focus," Shichiro muttered.
The imitation moved first.A blur of light hissed past Shichiro's cheek, slicing a line through the sand. Even mimicking, it was fast. Deadly.
Kentarō pulled Aegis and Rokuro back. "We're not helping in that. That's a straight-up god battle, and I'm not trying to become soup."
The aethermimic lunged again. This time Shichiro caught it by the wrist. Their hands exploded with light, gold battling white, heat roaring outward.
The mimic's strength was impossible for something hollow.
Shichiro's jaw clenched."Stop copying me."
The aethermimic answered with:
"Stop copying me."
Its free hand rose, fire bursting forward.
Shichiro mirrored, his flames swallowing the imitation's, pushing it back. The shockwave blasted sand into a cyclone.
Then.
In the middle of the light, he saw it.
Not a face.
Not a soul.
Just an empty frame… a parasite wearing his skin.
And for the first time since awakening, Shichiro felt the faintest chill.
If it kept watching him…If it kept learning…If it kept evolving…
One day, the fake could surpass the real.
He couldn't let it live.
Shichiro exhaled, fire swirling around his body. The mimic tried to do the same, but its flames flickered, unstable, glitching.
"You're not me."
He shot upward, dragging the creature with him, higher and higher until the ocean looked like a dark sheet below. The wind screamed around them.
The aethermimic tried to speak again.
"Not… me… not…"
Its voice glitched, tone unraveling.
Shichiro's wings snapped open.
Solar flares arced out.
"Disappear."
He swung his arm downward, and a beam of pure solar light erupted, swallowing the imitation completely. The sky flashed white.
A distant thunder shook the sea.
The aethermimic didn't scream. It simply dissolved, melting into white dust that evaporated in the heat.
No body.No soul.No remains.
Just gone.
Shichiro descended slowly, the last of his solar glow fading as he touched the shore. Kentarō rushed up to him.
"You good?"
Shichiro nodded. "Yeah. It's over."
The group didn't cheer.Didn't celebrate.They just breathed.
Because something felt off.
A little too quiet.
A little too still.
Rokuro's voice cracked. "Guys… look."
Where the imitation died, a single glowing seed floated down… the size of a pebble, pulsing faintly with white light.
It wasn't a voice.
It wasn't sentient.