[Lana's POV]
The world dissolved into a symphony of grinding crystal and silver mist. One moment, I was basking in the delicious, simmering tension between Dante and that little fire-starter, Erica. The next, I was alone, trapped in a corridor of shimmering, endless mirrors. The others had screamed. I think I heard Dante's name, probably from that pathetic redhead. I just laughed. A private little party? How thoughtful of this forest.
The labyrinth thought it could break me. It was adorable.
It started by showing me things from my past. The grey, suffocating walls of the orphanage. The pinched, disapproving face of the headmistress, her voice echoing from a thousand reflections. "You are a troubled child, Lana. Full of darkness."
"And you're a boring old hag," I chirped, extending my Verdant Iron Staff with a flick of my wrist. I smashed her reflection into a shower of glittering dust. "Next!"
The labyrinth tried again, conjuring the phantom of my sniveling, cheating ex-boyfriend. He was on his knees, his face a mask of terror, begging for a forgiveness he didn't deserve. "Lana, please," he whimpered. "I made a mistake. I love you."
"I know," I sighed dramatically, resting my staff on my shoulder. "Loving me is a very common mistake." I swung the staff in a wide, gleeful arc, shattering his phantom form. It was even more satisfying the second time around.
This wasn't a trial. It was a highlight reel. The labyrinth was trying to torment me with my demons, but it failed to understand a fundamental truth: I had already made my demons my pets. They didn't scare me anymore. I fed them.
When the walls finally slid away and I saw the others again, I had to stifle a giggle. They looked like frightened little mice. Erica was pale and trembling, her clothes scorched. That quiet one, Talia, looked like she'd seen a ghost. Even Dante, my beautiful, unbreakable Dante, looked… weary. The labyrinth had tried to show them their deepest fears. It had only shown me a good time.
Then the floor glowed, and the crystal copies of us began to rise. Five of them. Perfect, silent, and utterly deadly. A new set of toys to break.
"Oh, this is going to be fun," I whispered.
As if hearing my thought, a shimmering, invisible wall materialized between each of us, isolating us with our crystal twin. I saw Erica ignite her fists, preparing to fight her copy, but I couldn't reach her. No one could interfere. It was a duel. Just me and… me.
My crystal copy stood opposite me, its form a perfect, flawless replica. It held a staff of pure, clear crystal, and it mirrored my stance exactly. But its eyes, those faceted, empty things, held a cold, mocking intelligence.
"Finally," I purred, spinning my staff. "A worthy opponent."
I charged. My replica charged. Our staves met with a sound like a thousand shattering chandeliers. The force of the impact sent a shockwave up my arms, but my replica didn't even flinch. It moved with my speed, my grace, my knowledge. It knew every feint, every parry, every brutal strike I was capable of.
"You can't win," it said, its voice a perfect echo of my own, but stripped of all warmth, leaving only a cold, cutting cruelty. "You can't beat yourself."
"Watch me," I snarled, lashing out with a sweeping strike aimed at its legs. It leaped effortlessly over the attack, landing with a soft chime.
"Why are you even trying?" the crystal me asked, its head tilted in mock curiosity. "This isn't about strength. You know that. This is about him."
It gestured with its crystal staff toward the real Dante, who was locked in his own silent battle.
"You think he wants you?" my replica laughed, a sound like ice cracking. "Look at you. You're a broken little thing from a broken home. A whirlwind of chaos and need. You're exciting, yes. A beautiful disaster. But a man like Dante doesn't want a disaster. He wants a tool."
"Shut up!" I screamed, my playful demeanor cracking. I lunged, my staff a blur of motion. It blocked every strike with infuriating ease.
"He sees you for exactly what you are," it continued, its voice relentless. "A weapon. Powerful, unpredictable, and ultimately disposable. He keeps you close because you're useful. The moment your chaos outweighs your utility, he will discard you without a second thought."
"You're lying!" I parried a vicious thrust, the impact jarring my teeth.
"Am I?" The crystal Lana smiled, a terrible, knowing smile. "Look at the little fire-starter. Erica. She's pathetic, yes. A shy, obsessive little mouse. But her devotion is simple. It is pure. It is controllable. She is a loyal dog. You? You are a rabid wolf he keeps on a very short leash. Who do you think he truly values more? The loyal pet, or the beautiful monster he knows he'll have to put down eventually?"
Its words were poison, each one a carefully aimed dart hitting a place deep inside me I refused to acknowledge. The place that knew my obsession was a sickness. The place that knew Dante's affection was a leash, not an embrace.
"He and I are the same!" I roared, pouring all my rage into a powerful overhead strike.
Our staves met again, the sound screaming through the chamber. This time, a crack appeared in my replica's crystal weapon. It had felt that. My rage, my true, undiluted madness, was a power it couldn't perfectly replicate.
It saw the crack, and its smile widened. "The same? Oh, sweetie, no," it whispered, its voice dropping to a venomous purr. "He is a king building an empire. You? You're just a broken girl who likes to burn things. You don't want to rule with him. You just want to be the only thing left in the ashes. You think that's love? He knows it's not. He knows you would burn him, too, if it meant you could have him all to yourself."
My breath hitched. My grip on my staff faltered for a fraction of a second.
And in that instant, the crystal me moved. Its own staff, though cracked, was a blur. It wasn't aimed at my head or my chest. It was aimed at my knee. It struck with a sickening, crystalline crunch.
A bolt of pure, white-hot agony shot up my leg. I screamed, a real scream this time, a sound of pain and shock. My leg buckled, and I collapsed to the crystal floor. My staff clattered from my nerveless fingers.
I looked up, panting, my vision swimming with tears of pain. My replica stood over me, its face impassive, its cracked crystal staff held ready.
"See?" it said, its voice a final, devastating whisper. "In the end, even you can break yourself."