Morning came without mercy.
Their bodies were still heavy from the month of failure, muscles aching so deeply it felt embedded in their bones. Ash could feel it even before opening his eyes—the dull burn in his legs, the stiffness in his shoulders, the faint tremor in his mana core whenever he breathed too deeply.
But what unsettled him most wasn't the pain.
It was Lunaria's words from the night before.
You won't be fighting me anymore.
You'll be fighting yourselves.
They gathered in the clearing just after dawn. The sky was pale, clouds stretched thin like scars across the horizon. Lunaria stood alone at the center, hands behind his back, expression unreadable as ever.
No killing intent.
No pressure.
That alone made Ash uneasy.
"You've all faced monsters," Lunaria began calmly. "You've faced armies. You've faced me."
He turned, his silver eyes locking onto each of them one by one.
"But none of those are your greatest enemy."
The ground beneath them suddenly shifted.
Not physically—but spiritually.
Ash felt it first. A strange distortion, like the air was folding inward. His mana reacted instinctively, flaring before he could stop it. Kael cursed under his breath. Juno's chains rattled faintly, responding to something unseen. Riven's shadow lengthened unnaturally.
Lunaria raised one hand.
The world shattered.
Ash staggered back as the clearing dissolved into fragments of light and darkness. The trees twisted, splitting into reflections that didn't quite match reality. The sky darkened into a void filled with flickering images—memories, fears, failures.
Then Ash saw himself.
Not a reflection.
A presence.
The other Ash stood a few meters away, eyes cold, posture perfect—everything Ash wanted to be, stripped of hesitation and doubt.
"So this is what you became," the double said, voice sharp with disdain.
Ash's breath caught. "You're not real."
The double smiled. "Neither is the version of you that keeps holding back."
Ash lunged on instinct.
Their blades collided, shockwaves rippling outward, tearing through the distorted landscape. The impact threw Ash back, skidding across cracked stone that hadn't existed a second ago.
The double didn't chase.
He walked.
"You hesitate because you're afraid," the other Ash said. "Afraid of becoming like him. Afraid of enjoying it."
Ash gritted his teeth and forced himself up.
Across the fractured world, he could hear the others.
Kael's roar echoed like thunder—rage and frustration colliding violently. Riven's voice was sharp, calculating, arguing with something unseen. Juno screamed once, a raw, broken sound that sent chills through Ash's spine.
Lunaria's voice rang out—not loud, but absolute.
"Do not suppress it."
Ash felt the weight of those words.
The double attacked again, faster this time. Ash barely blocked, the force rattling his bones. Each strike felt heavier than Lunaria's Overdrive—not because of strength, but because every blow carried truth.
"You hate losing," the double said between strikes. "You hate being weaker. You hate that you need others."
Ash countered, barely grazing the double's shoulder. The contact sent pain screaming through his arm.
"And yet," the double continued, unfazed, "you cling to them because you're terrified of standing alone."
Ash's vision blurred.
Memories flooded in—times he hesitated, moments he relied on Kael to lead, Riven to plan, Juno to bind threats he couldn't handle.
Was that weakness?
Or survival?
Ash roared and unleashed his killing intent.
For a moment, the world trembled.
The double staggered—but didn't fall.
Instead, he grinned.
"There it is," he said. "Now stop pretending you're better than this."
Ash didn't answer.
He attacked.
Not with restraint.
Not with fear.
But with everything he had.
Elsewhere—
Kael was on his knees, blood dripping from his mouth as he stared at his opponent—himself, standing tall and unbroken.
"You're obsessed with surpassing him," the other Kael said coldly. "But you never asked why."
Kael forced himself up, fists shaking. "Because if I don't—"
"You'll be irrelevant," the double finished. "Replaceable. Forgotten."
Kael screamed and charged.
Riven faced a version of himself who made no mistakes.
Every plan flawless.
Every move optimal.
And every outcome hollow.
"You sacrifice everything for efficiency," the double said. "Even yourself."
Riven's hands trembled as he adjusted his stance.
Juno was trapped in chains—his own chains—binding his limbs, crushing his chest.
"You want control," his double whispered. "Because chaos broke you once."
Tears streamed down Juno's face as he struggled to breathe.
And above it all—
Lunaria watched.
He did not interfere.
He did not guide.
Because this was the one battle no one could fight for them.
Hours passed.
Or maybe seconds.
Time had no meaning in that fractured space.
One by one, they fell—not defeated, but exhausted, broken down to their core.
When Ash finally collapsed, gasping, his double stood over him.
"You still don't know who you want to be," it said quietly.
Ash looked up, chest heaving.
"Maybe," he rasped. "But I know who I don't want to become."
The double paused.
Then it dissolved into light.
The world snapped back into place.
They lay scattered across the clearing, breathing heavily, bodies unmoving. The sun was already low in the sky.
Lunaria stood among them.
"You survived," he said simply.
Ash laughed weakly. "That's… your standard now?"
"For today," Lunaria replied.
He looked down at them, expression unreadable—but something in his eyes had shifted.
"You failed against Overdrive because you were chasing power," Lunaria said.
"Today, you faced truth."
He turned away.
"Rest," he said. "Tomorrow, training resumes."
Ash closed his eyes, heart still pounding.
For the first time in a month—
He didn't feel like he was running toward an unreachable horizon.
He felt like he had taken a step forward.
Even if that step nearly broke him.