The world stopped breathing.
For a moment, only the whisper of the black wind moved, carrying the ash between them. Reiji stared at the figure before him—his own face, reflected in wrongness. The same eyes. The same scars. But the one standing within the crimson smoke smiled.
> "You came too late, Reiji," the other said. "But you always do."
The chains around the scroll clinked as the figure—his mirror—lifted it, the sigil pulsing like a heartbeat. Each pulse sent tremors through the ground. The ruins of Halveris groaned as though alive, and faint voices rose from beneath the stones.
Kaede's grip tightened on her blade. "What is this?"
Reiji's eyes didn't leave the reflection of himself. "It's the Pact. But it's using me as the vessel."
The double's grin deepened. "Not using, Reiji—becoming. Every shadow you've buried, every lie you swore to forget… the Pact feeds on it. You sealed it yourself the moment you chose silence."
The air grew thick, suffocating. The black rain that had fallen moments ago now rose instead, droplets reversing gravity, twisting into spirals of ink that surrounded them like a curtain.
Reiji drew Kagetsu, its blade trembling under the distortion. "You're not me."
The reflection tilted his head. "Aren't I? I am every choice you didn't make. Every truth you refused to speak."
Kaede stepped forward, placing herself beside Reiji. "If this thing completes the seal—"
"It won't," Reiji cut in, his voice low, deliberate. "Not while I'm still breathing."
The reflection's smile faded, replaced by something colder—pity. "Still clinging to defiance. Still pretending that resolve is the same as redemption."
Then, with a gesture, he tore the scroll open.
The world bled.
A deafening roar shook the ruins as the ground split apart, exposing what lay beneath—an endless void of mirrored light. Fragments of glass floated in the air, reflecting countless versions of Reiji, Kaede, the Monarch, the soldiers—all trapped in looping moments of their own deaths.
It wasn't reality. It was memory—fractured, multiplied, weaponized.
Kaede's voice trembled. "What is this place?"
"The Garden," Reiji said, his tone hollow. "The Garden of Silent Truths. The Monarch once used it to erase histories that couldn't be rewritten."
The reflection stepped back, arms spread as if addressing an unseen audience. "Every truth demands silence to survive. Every silence demands a keeper. You, Reiji, were meant to be that keeper. But you ran."
"Then take it from me," Reiji hissed.
The mirrored world pulsed in response. Chains of black light lashed out from the floating shards, wrapping around Reiji's wrists. He struggled, the steel biting into his flesh.
Kaede moved to strike them, but her blade met only air—the chains passed through her weapon as if mocking resistance.
"Don't," Reiji said sharply. "If you touch it, it'll pull you in."
The reflection approached, footsteps echoing without sound. "You can't fight truth with defiance. You can only accept it."
Reiji's breathing slowed. His eyes, dark and sharp, locked onto the reflection's face. "Then let's see if the truth can bleed."
In an instant, Kagetsu flared to life—its black fire cutting through the chains like whispers dissolving in wind. The reflection stepped back, surprised, as Reiji lunged forward. Their blades met, light and shadow colliding in violent harmony.
The impact shattered the air. Shards of memory rained around them—visions of a thousand past lives flickering in the periphery. Reiji saw himself again and again: kneeling before the Court, standing over Kaede's fallen body, burning the insignia into his hand.
Each strike between them was more than a clash of steel—it was a war between versions of himself.
"You can't kill what's already inside you!" the reflection shouted.
"Then I'll tear it out!"
Reiji spun, his movement fluid and brutal, slicing across the mirrored world. The reflection mirrored him perfectly, every movement a cruel echo. Kaede watched, powerless to intervene—the space around them shifted too violently for her to enter.
The duel blurred into chaos. Their blades carved streaks of light and darkness across the Garden, each blow distorting reality further. The reflection's eyes glowed now—no longer human, but infinite.
Finally, they locked blades, face to face.
The reflection leaned close, whispering through the clash of metal:
> "You can't destroy me, Reiji. You are me."
Reiji's voice was raw, but steady.
> "No. I'm what you couldn't be."
He twisted his wrist, forcing the reflection's blade aside. Kagetsu drove through its chest. The world screamed.
The mirrored space cracked like glass under pressure, light bursting outward. The reflection stumbled, laughing through blood. "You think this ends it? You just proved it. The only truth left is violence."
Reiji's eyes darkened. "Then that's the truth I'll carry."
The reflection's form shattered, dissolving into ash and light. The Garden trembled violently—every mirror around them fracturing, collapsing into the void below.
Kaede ran forward, grabbing Reiji's arm as the ground began to give way. "We need to go!"
But Reiji didn't move. His gaze was fixed on the broken fragments swirling into nothingness. Inside one of them, for a brief instant, he saw something—his own reflection smiling faintly, almost peacefully. Then it was gone.
The world imploded in silence.
When the dust settled, Reiji and Kaede found themselves outside the ruins again. The sky was gray, the ground scorched. The scroll was gone, the mark on Reiji's hand still faintly burning.
Kaede caught her breath, eyes scanning the horizon. "Did we stop it?"
Reiji didn't answer immediately. He looked down at his hand. The sigil pulsed once—weak, but alive.
"No," he said finally. "We delayed it."
Kaede turned toward him, her voice breaking the quiet. "Then what now?"
Reiji's eyes were empty, his tone steady. "Now we hunt the ones who signed the Pact."
The wind blew through the ruins, carrying whispers that weren't there. The horizon stretched endlessly, gray and indifferent.
Kaede looked at him for a long time. "And if the truth comes for us again?"
Reiji slid Kagetsu into its sheath. "Then we remind it what silence costs."
The two of them walked into the fading light, their shadows long and uncertain against the ashen earth. Behind them, the ruins pulsed once more—faint, rhythmic, like a heartbeat that refused to die.
Far above, beyond the clouds, something watched.
And smiled.