The night was eerily calm after the fall of the obsidian citadel. The wind carried a low, mournful hum across the battlefield, whispering through the armor of the fallen. The fires that once raged across the horizon had dimmed into dying embers, their glow flickering faintly against the ruined earth.
Kaien Draven stood at the edge of the crater—the heart of the ancient battlefield where the Demon King's shadow had been torn apart. His cloak, tattered and heavy with blood and ash, fluttered faintly in the cold wind. He didn't move, didn't speak. His eyes were fixed on the dark scar that marred the land below him—a wound that pulsed faintly with red light, refusing to close.
That was where the King's essence had retreated.
That was where the real war would begin.
Behind him, Lira approached quietly. Her boots crunched over broken stones as she stepped closer, her staff glowing faintly in the darkness. "You've been standing here for hours," she said softly.
Kaien didn't turn. "It's still alive."
She glanced at the crimson glow beneath the cracked earth. "The seal is weakening again?"
He nodded slowly. "The Rift doesn't die—it just waits." His voice was low, cold, but there was something else beneath it now… something like fear.
Lira's gaze softened. "You can't keep fighting shadows, Kaien. Even the strongest soul burns out eventually."
He smirked faintly. "If I burn, let it be bright enough to take them all with me."
She frowned, stepping closer. "You're not alone in this."
Kaien finally looked at her—his crimson eyes dim but determined. "No," he said. "But it feels like I should be."
Before she could reply, a low rumble shuddered through the ground. Both of them turned sharply as a dark mist began to spill from the cracks in the earth. It coiled upward like smoke, twisting into shapes—faces, claws, wings. The whisper of the void filled the air, speaking in tongues that made the air tremble.
Lira's grip on her staff tightened. "It's happening again."
Kaien drew Noxveil, the black blade humming in response. "No… this is different."
From the shadows emerged a figure—not a demon, but a man. His armor was sleek obsidian, his cloak torn and flowing like smoke. His eyes glowed faintly gold, his expression calm yet terrifyingly familiar.
Kaien's breath caught.
He knew that face.
"Impossible…" Lira whispered. "He looks like—"
"Me," Kaien finished.
The figure tilted his head slightly, smirking. "Took you long enough." His voice was identical to Kaien's—every tone, every inflection—but darker, colder. "You kept me locked away for too long."
Lira stepped back, whispering, "A shadow copy?"
Kaien's grip on his sword tightened. "No. That's… my other self."
The clone—or rather, the shadow—walked closer, his boots echoing softly against the cracked stone. "You thought you could wield the abyss without consequence? Foolish."
Kaien's eyes narrowed. "You're just a reflection. Nothing more."
"Wrong," the shadow hissed. "I am what you denied—the part of you that craved destruction. The side that enjoyed the slaughter."
Lira raised her staff, preparing a barrier, but Kaien raised a hand. "Stay back. This one's mine."
The shadow laughed—a haunting, perfect echo of Kaien's own. "Oh, I was hoping you'd say that."
They clashed.
The ground cracked beneath them as both blades met in an explosion of black and red light. The impact sent waves of energy rippling across the ruins, shattering stone and bending air. Noxveil's edge screamed against its twin—a mirror forged from Kaien's own darkness.
Every strike was brutal, precise.
Every move was matched.
Kaien lunged forward, slicing through a blur of motion—but his shadow mirrored him perfectly, countering with impossible precision. Their movements blurred together until it looked like one being fighting itself, light and dark spiraling into chaos.
Lira could barely keep her footing as shockwaves tore through the earth. "Kaien!" she shouted, but he didn't hear.
He couldn't.
The world around him vanished—replaced by a realm of shadow. It was silent, endless, filled with whispers and screams that came from nowhere and everywhere at once. The ground was black glass, reflecting endless copies of himself.
The shadow stepped forward, blade resting against his shoulder. "You can't win against me," it said simply. "Because I am you."
Kaien glared, breathing hard. "Then I'll destroy that part of me."
"You already tried," the shadow said, smiling. "Every time you used the abyss, every time you let the flames consume you—you fed me."
Kaien raised his sword, his aura flaring. "Then I'll starve you instead."
"Try it," the shadow said—and vanished.
A blur of motion, a slash across his side—Kaien staggered, blood spilling. Another strike—his shoulder burned. The shadow appeared behind him, whispering in his ear, "You can't kill the darkness without killing yourself."
Kaien turned sharply, their blades clashing again. His fury ignited, his aura flaring in waves of black flame. "Then I'll burn both of us!"
Their swords locked, and Kaien unleashed a roar that shook the void. His blade erupted with light—not darkness this time, but a strange, radiant glow, like dawn breaking through night. The shadow's eyes widened. "What—what is this?"
Kaien's voice thundered. "The power you'll never have… hope."
The light exploded outward. For a moment, the void trembled, the reflection fracturing like shattered glass. The shadow screamed—its voice blending with Kaien's—before it was consumed by the blinding light.
When the world returned, Kaien stood alone in the ruins once more. The sky was clear now, the crimson lightning gone. Lira was at his side, steadying him as he swayed, blood trickling down his arm.
"You did it," she whispered.
Kaien nodded weakly. "No," he said. "He's still in there. I just… silenced him for now."
She helped him to sit. "Then we'll find a way to remove him completely."
Kaien looked at the horizon, where the faint glow of dawn began to break through the smoke. "There's no removing the darkness, Lira. You just learn to stand above it."
For a long moment, they sat in silence—just two souls among ruins, watching the new light rise.
But far beneath the earth, deep within the abyss, the shadow stirred again—its golden eyes opening slowly, burning with silent rage.
It whispered into the void, "You can't escape what you are, Kaien Draven. When the true King rises… I will rise with him."
And somewhere beyond the stars, in the heart of the Demon King's realm, a new gate began to open—one not of this world, but of Kaien's soul.
The war was far from over.
The shadows had only begun to move.