The silhouette stepped forward, each footfall echoing with unnatural weight.
Mizu felt his chest tighten. His fingers wrapped tighter around the fourth key, but even the energy from it dimmed compared to the pressure radiating from this figure.
It wasn't just someone imitating him.
It *was* him.
Same height. Same build. Same blue crystal burning on the chest—only this one pulsed with dark, almost violet flames.
Sayos hissed, dragging his injured leg back. "Tell me that's not what it looks like."
Rika narrowed her eyes, flames dancing on her fingertips. "It *better* not be what it looks like. Because if it is… we're in trouble."
The figure stopped. Half of his face still masked in shadow, the other smirking with cold amusement.
"You look confused," the copy said, voice eerily calm—*exactly* like Mizu's, but without emotion. "I would be too. Seeing your true self for the first time… it's hard."
"My *true* self?" Mizu stepped forward, trying to steady his breath. "You're just another trick. Another parasite Ranshin cooked up to mess with my head."
The reflection tilted its head. "And yet… part of you *believes* I'm real."
The silence that followed was sharp.
Honkai groaned in the background, still unconscious but stirring.
Rika kept her flame aimed. "Careful, Mizu. This one doesn't talk like a puppet. He's thinking."
"Because I *am* thinking," the copy said. "I am the part of you that was *left behind.* Forgotten when you chose weakness. When you buried rage beneath grief. I am everything you've denied—your anger, your fear, your thirst for power."
Mizu took another step forward, feeling the heat rise in his blood. "No. You're not *me.* You're just a fragment. A shadow. I've already fought my demons."
The figure smirked. "Then why are your hands shaking?"
Mizu looked down—and cursed under his breath.
His fingers *were* trembling.
Sayos coughed. "Okay, hate to interrupt the therapy session, but should we be preparing for a fight or what?"
No more words were needed.
The dark Mizu raised his hand—and the ground between them cracked apart, forming a jagged trench of black water. It pulsed with corrupted elemental energy.
Without warning, he lunged.
Mizu met him halfway.
The clash was thunderous.
Water against water—one pure, the other poisoned. Their fists collided with such force the chamber lit up with pressure waves. Rika and Sayos were blown back.
The two Mizus moved like mirrored lightning. One would strike, the other block. Then reverse.
But there was a difference.
Every time Mizu landed a hit—he felt pain in return.
The enemy *absorbed* it.
"This isn't just a fight," Mizu realized aloud. "You're linked to me. My own power… it fuels you."
The shadow-Mizu nodded, eyes cold. "And with every doubt you carry… I grow stronger."
---
Meanwhile, Rika grabbed Sayos and pulled him behind a fractured pillar.
"Okay," she muttered, scanning the fight. "This is bad. Real bad."
Sayos leaned back, still catching his breath. "You think? I feel like I'm watching a horror movie *inside* Mizu's head."
"We need to break the connection," she said. "His crystal. It's reacting too much."
She reached into her pouch and pulled out a small, red stone. It shimmered faintly in her palm. "This might do something. Or blow up. Fifty-fifty."
Sayos gave her a dry look. "Your optimism is inspiring."
She smirked. "I try."
---
Back at the center, Mizu was panting hard.
His opponent—still calm.
"You're hesitating," the copy said.
"I'm… not," Mizu growled. "I'm trying to understand."
"Understand what?"
"Why I'm *afraid* of you."
And just like that—the tide shifted.
The real Mizu closed his eyes… and instead of resisting the fear… he *faced* it.
He allowed the memories to rise. His father's final words. The blood. The weight of responsibility. The loss of control.
And then he *let them go.*
His crystal shimmered.
Bright. Blue. Pure.
The copy blinked.
Then, for the first time, *staggered back.*
"No," the reflection hissed. "No—you *need* me! You can't survive without the pain!"
"I can," Mizu said, voice calm now. "But that doesn't mean I forget it. I just… carry it differently."
His entire body began glowing.
The water around him didn't rage—it *flowed.* Quiet, steady. Controlled.
The reflection howled—and charged again.
This time, Mizu didn't fight.
He moved like water.
Redirecting.
Flowing.
Striking only when it mattered.
His final move—a rising uppercut of compressed pressure—hit the shadow square in the chest.
The crystal on the doppelgänger's chest cracked.
Then shattered.
---
The fake Mizu collapsed, breath shallow, flickering like a dying flame.
He looked up… not in anger, but almost… relief.
"I was never meant to win," he whispered. "Only to remind you what's possible."