It was like looking into a mirror cracked in hate.
The doppelgänger stepped forward—same height, same lean stance, same twisted grin. But wrong. Off. Something behind the eyes was missing.
No soul.
Only intent.
Kael's own voice echoed back to him.
"How many people did you betray to stay alive?"
The Court of Cinders circled above them in the ringed arena, watching from balconies of blackwood and bone. Silent. Waiting.
Vephra spoke like smoke:
"We do not test strength."
"We test shame."
"Kill him, and you are worthy."
Kael drew both knives.
"Is this the part where I get emotional?"
The echo lunged.
It was fast.
Faster than Kael expected.
The echo moved like memory—not muscle.
It predicted him.
Matched him.
Beat him.
Blades clashed in a spiral of sparks and steel, each movement a reflection twisted by purpose. When Kael ducked, the echo struck where his shoulder had been. When he feinted, the echo grinned—and didn't fall for it.
He bled first.
A shallow cut across the cheek. Not deep.
But real.
Kael hissed. "You're good."
The echo whispered, "I'm you. Before you got soft."
In the viewing ring, Vephra whispered to one of her Council.
"If he kills the echo without breaking, we accept their pact."
"If he dies, we take the revenant instead."
"If he hesitates… we watch longer."
The Councilor hissed. "The knife walks the line."
Kael backstepped, breathing heavier now.
The echo circled.
"You lied to your last lover," it said, "so she wouldn't follow you into death."
Kael didn't answer.
"You smiled while you stabbed the Virelain boy's cousin in the neck."
Kael's hand trembled, just slightly.
"You begged the gods to save you once."
"That one's true," Kael said.
And then he struck.
This time, he didn't feint.
Didn't dodge.
He let the echo stab him in the shoulder—deep—and in the same breath, he slammed his own blade into the echo's ribs.
Close.
Point-blank.
"You're not me," he whispered. "You're the version that never learned when to stop running."
The echo froze.
Then cracked.
Not bled.
Cracked—like a dropped mirror.
And fell.
The chamber went still.
Kael staggered, clutching his shoulder.
"Test passed," he muttered.
Vephra rose.
"You bled willingly."
"You killed yourself without hate."
"You may speak for your revenant."
Kael wiped the blood from his lip and gave a crooked grin.
"About time someone admitted I'm charming."
Elsewhere…
Leonis stood before a map of temple routes and relic convoys.
At its center: a path through the hills north of Solmereth. A priest of the Second Choir escorted by flameborn guards.
The man bore a relic: a living chain, grown from god-metal, meant to bind souls.
It would be Leonis's offering to Nhar-Kheth.
He pointed at the map.
"This one," he said.
"System Alert: High Divine Proximity."
"Probability of lethal resistance: 89%."
Kael's voice rang in his memory.
"You're not afraid of dying again, are you?"
Leonis smiled.
"No. I'm just getting good at it."
Back in the Crimson stronghold, Sareth Vorn watched from the shadows, eyes narrowed.
She turned to a masked rebel beside her.
"He sends Kael to talk. Sends himself to bleed."
"He's playing gods and ghosts like pawns."
"That crown may be ash, but it's starting to burn."