"Hello, Theo."
Theo frowns.
The grey silhouette speaks his name, yet he does not recognize the voice. That alone puts him at a disadvantage. And he does not like being at a disadvantage.
"Who are you?" he asks, calm but guarded.
The silhouette laughs.
"I am who you want me to be."
Its form swirls, smoke folding over itself, then shimmering as if light passes through liquid glass.
"I can be your dead lover, Aldric."
The shape shifts.
Features sharpen. Broad shoulders. Familiar eyes. The exact tilt of the head Theo remembers too well.
Aldric stands before him.
Theo does not flinch.
One glance is enough.
This is not Aldric.
This is the true Dungeon King. The core behind the thick green fog. The mind that has been watching, studying, reflecting.
Theo sneers.
"You are nothing but a haelion. You dig through my memories and project them back at me. You weaponize my insecurities. You cannot truly speak, yet you do so eloquently because you are mirroring me."
