Kael walked until the dim glow of morning faded into ash-heavy dusk once more. Ash whispered across the stone like falling snow, and the air smelled faintly of old iron and scorched roots. The ridge had long since vanished behind him, and with it, the fragile warmth of waking with Lyra's name still echoing in his mind.
Now, only silence followed.
Not even the System dared speak.
He found shelter beneath a split boulder, its hollow filled with brittle moss and wind-scratched markings. It wasn't safe, but nothing was—not here, not now. He sat against the cold wall, pulling his knees close. His eyes burned from fatigue, but his mind wouldn't still.
Why couldn't he remember?
Why did the name Lyra feel like a blade pressed to his heart?
His thoughts spiraled until exhaustion finally pulled him under. But sleep, true sleep, was a treacherous thing in a land like this.
He opened his eyes to a world too still. The ash no longer drifted. The wind held its breath.
Kael stood on a black plain, skyless and sharp. The land beneath his feet shimmered like obsidian glass. Nothing moved.
Then he heard the footsteps.
Rhythmic. Measured. Matching his own gait.
And out of the dark came a figure.
He knew it before it spoke. Before it lifted its face.
It was him.
But wrong.
Eyes like burning pits. A smirk carved into shadowed skin. Armor scorched black, lined in red. And a crown—not of gold, but of bone and cinder—floating above its head.
"So," it said, voice like coals cracking in a dying hearth, "you finally stopped running."
Kael stepped back. His blade wasn't with him. There was no System window. Only this reflection.
"What are you?"
The thing grinned. "You, before you broke. Before you forgot. Before you lied to yourself."
"I never—"
"Didn't you?"
The figure took a step forward, and the plain fractured beneath its feet.
"You think forgetting makes you innocent?"
"I didn't choose to forget!" Kael shouted.
The other Kael tilted his head, mock sympathy in his ember-lit eyes.
"And yet, here we are. Me—whole. And you—sniveling, fractured, chasing a name you don't even understand."
Kael clenched his fists. "You're not whole. You're a ghost."
"I'm memory."
The shadow raised a hand, and fire flared from its palm—his fire, but darker. It writhed like it wanted to consume.
"You buried me. And now the cracks are bleeding. You think Lyra will save you? You think loving makes you better than what we were?"
Kael didn't answer.
"You're weak," the shadow said, stepping close. "But you can be strong again. Take it back. Take me back. You'll need me, when the Scorched King returns."
Kael's voice trembled. "I don't even know who I am."
The shadow grinned wider. "No. You're just a flicker—what's left when the fire forgets how to burn."
It lunged.
Kael didn't flinch.
Instead, he reached forward. Not to fight. But to embrace.
Their hands touched—and for a moment, flame and memory surged.
He saw cities burn. He saw Lyra weeping. He saw a throne carved from spine and sorrow.
And then—
Kael opened his eyes.
Back beneath the boulder. Sweat drenched his skin. His heartbeat thundered.
[Memory Suppression Lock: Fractured][Cognitive Dissonance Threshold Surpassed.][Ember Trait: Shadow Self Recognized]
New Status Effect: Fractured Duality Emotional clarity may waver. Shadow Self may manifest under extreme duress.
Kael didn't move for a long time.
When he finally stood, his hands still trembled—but he knew something had changed.
He hadn't defeated the shadow.
He had accepted that it was real.
And next time, he wouldn't flinch.