"It is not the shadow that defines a person… it's whether they choose to walk beside it, or become it."—T'Challa
Inside the Tower of the Shattered – Mid-Spire
Kael stood frozen.
Facing him: a mirrored version of himself—older, colder, clad in a jagged armor that pulsed with dark light. The inverted shard in his chest shimmered like obsidian dipped in bloodlight.
"What... are you?" Kael asked.
The doppelgänger smiled, a grin full of ancient weariness.
"I am the Kael who didn't run. The Kael who accepted what the shard offered."
He took a step forward. Every surface around them warped, twisting into unfamiliar reflections of the same moment, from different angles, from different worlds.
"I burned the world that betrayed me. I let the Eidolon show me what lies beneath the veil—and I embraced it."
Riri stepped in between them, arm raised.
"Back off. This kid's not going to be some twisted time echo."
"No," Dark Kael said calmly. "He's going to be worse. Because I didn't start with as much power as he did."
Kael's pulse pounded in his ears. The shard in his chest burned, reacting to the one in his reflection.
"Why are you here?" Kael asked.
Dark Kael shrugged. "To offer a choice. There's no stopping what's coming. But you can shape it. Rule it. Rewrite the collapse. All you have to do... is let go."
He held out his hand.
"Let go of fear. Of doubt. Of pretending you're small."
The tower shimmered again. Behind Kael, the mirrors showed battles—worlds consumed by entropy, heroes shattered like porcelain.
Kael looked down at his hand... trembling.
He could feel it. That pull.
Not evil. Not good.
Just... power.
Meanwhile – Outside the Tower, Rift Layer
Wong held the spell together with blood dripping from his nose. The Eidolon was clawing at the edges of the fabric of reality, trying to reopen what had been sealed.
"Strange!" he shouted.
"I'm working on it!" came the reply from a sphere of floating sigils.
"The tower is folding inward—if Kael doesn't choose soon, he's going to be lost in every version of himself at once."
Back in the Tower
Riri stepped forward.
"Kael... look at me."
He didn't.
"Kael, listen. That thing—whatever it is—isn't your future. It's your failure."
Kael blinked. The darkness around him cracked for a moment. In his mind, he heard his mother's voice—soft, distant, like a lullaby tucked inside memory.
"You don't have to be like the world to survive it," she once told him.
He looked at the mirrored Kael.
"You're not me."
"Not yet," Dark Kael said with a smirk. "But you will be."
Kael took a breath. Reached into the shard.
And pushed back.
Light exploded outward, shattering every reflection. The floor beneath the dark version cracked, mirrors folding into themselves.
"No," the mirrored Kael hissed. "You don't get to choose the weaker path—!"
Kael stepped forward.
"Maybe it's not weaker," he said, eyes glowing gold, "just better."
He raised his hand.
And the shard obeyed.
Outside the Tower
A surge of light exploded through the Rift. Wong dropped to one knee, shielding his eyes.
The Eidolon screamed—not in pain, but in frustration—as it was ripped backward, banished for now.
Strange exhaled. "The boy made his choice."
The Tower — Now Quiet
Kael collapsed to the floor. Riri caught him, her armor dented and smoldering.
"You okay?" she asked.
He nodded slowly.
"Yeah... but I don't think this is over."
Riri looked up at the trembling walls of the Tower.
"No. This was just one version of the test."
A faint hum stirred above them.
"Let's get out before this place decides to rewrite the script."
[To Be Continued in Chapter 7 – Multitude]