The crystalline void twisted and folded in on itself as Aloysius's duel with his shadow-self raged. Every strike they traded echoed like shattering glass, ripples distorting the entire realm.
The Weaver appeared at the periphery, its many-threaded form weaving patterns in the air, each strand humming with primordial resonance."You battle not the shadow, but the part of you that will inherit the Fragments," it spoke, its voice both vast and intimate.
The shadow grinned Aloysius's grin, sharper and more dangerous. "And I will take what he cannot hold."
A sudden shift: the void around them filled with memories blood-soaked battlefields, the hollow eyes of fallen warriors, and the whispers of divine echoes that promised untold power.
The Weaver's threads began tightening, forming a lattice around them. "One of you will emerge. The other… will be erased."
Aloysius steadied his breath.Then he moved.