The clash of light and darkness split the Citadel in two. Every strike between Ren and his shadow sent shockwaves that shattered floating shards of memory, scattering visions of forgotten worlds into the air.
Lyra shielded her face as the air burned around them, the resonance between both forces making the chamber quake. "Ren!" she called out, but her voice was lost beneath the roar of colliding stars.
The dark Ren—his eyes glowing silver-black—laughed as he parried a swing, twisting effortlessly behind the real Ren. "Still holding back," he mocked. "You always do. You never wanted to admit how much you crave the power you fear."
Ren turned sharply, blocking with a flash of golden light. "If I did, you wouldn't exist."
The shadow's grin widened. "Then why do I still breathe?"
The two lunged at each other again. Sparks of celestial energy illuminated every movement. Ren's blade glowed with living starlight, while the dark reflection wielded a blade forged from void—its edges devouring even the light that touched it.
Each blow mirrored perfectly, every movement like a reflection in motion. It wasn't just a fight—it was Ren battling the part of himself that once embraced destruction.
Lyra struggled to move closer, the air around her thick with unstable magic. She summoned light through her palms, her power pulsing weakly but steady. She could feel the resonance between both Rens tearing reality apart.
"Stop it!" she shouted. "You'll destroy everything!"
Neither answered.
Ren's heart pounded with every swing. Each strike of his shadow carried memory—his own pain, his rage, the endless loneliness of his former self. He could feel it all crashing into him, threatening to drown his will.
The shadow's next attack cut close, grazing Ren's shoulder. Pain flared. "You think you can bury me?" the dark one hissed. "I am the part of you that survived the war of the stars. You killed me once—and it's time I return the favor."
Ren clenched his jaw, then drove forward with renewed strength. "You're wrong," he said through gritted teeth. "You're just a memory that forgot what it means to fight for something."
Their blades met, locking in a stalemate. Both strained, faces inches apart, the glow from their eyes casting mirrored reflections across the fractured chamber.
Then Lyra's voice cut through the chaos.
"Ren—listen to me!"
For the briefest instant, he hesitated, looking toward her. That was all the shadow needed. A surge of dark energy slammed into Ren, hurling him backward through the air. He hit the ground hard, his blade skidding away.
The shadow approached slowly, steps echoing like thunder. "You're weak because you've grown attached," he sneered. "That girl—she's your flaw. She makes you hesitate."
Lyra stepped between them, her light flaring defensively. "Then you'll have to go through me."
The shadow laughed—a deep, hollow sound. "You can't even stand against the wind of this realm, little echo. Do you really think you can stop me?"
"I don't have to," she said softly. "Because he will."
Ren pushed himself up, blood dripping down his lip. He reached out, and the starlight around his body flickered—unsteady but alive. He could feel Lyra's resonance touching his, guiding it.
"Her light doesn't make me weak," Ren said, voice steady now. "It reminds me why I fight at all."
With that, his body burst into radiant gold, lines of light etching across his skin like living constellations. The blade flew back into his hand as if called by destiny itself.
The shadow's grin faltered. "Impossible…"
Ren lifted his sword, and the stars above responded.
"Time to end this," he whispered.
He swung—light splitting the darkness like dawn breaking over endless night. The impact roared through the Citadel, scattering the shadow into streams of starlight and darkness.
When it was over, the air was still. Only the faint hum of the Citadel's heart remained.
Lyra rushed to him. "Ren!"
He caught her in his arms, exhausted but standing. "I'm okay," he said with a faint smile. "He's gone."
But as the light faded, deep within the Citadel's core, something shimmered—a sliver of shadow, pulsing faintly. Watching. Waiting.
---
The Citadel's light was dying.
Golden threads of energy drifted like ash, sinking into the floor as the resonance core went silent. Ren leaned against a fractured pillar, his breath uneven, sweat and starlight mixing on his skin.
Lyra stayed beside him, her hand glowing faintly over his wounds. The healing spell shimmered with a soft white hue, more gentle than before.
"You pushed too far again," she murmured.
Ren managed a small smile. "I had to."
"You always say that," she whispered, shaking her head. "You always think the world will break unless you hold it up yourself."
He laughed quietly—more a sigh than amusement. "Maybe that's because it already did once."
Lyra paused. Her hand stopped glowing as her gaze softened. "Then let me hold it with you next time."
Ren looked at her, and for a moment, the ruins around them vanished. There was only her—breathing, trembling, shining.
He reached for her hand, and she didn't pull away. "You're not afraid anymore," he said.
"I was never afraid of you," she answered. "Only of losing what you carry."
A quiet fell between them, heavier than silence. The war had shaped them both—burned them, scarred them—but in this fragile calm, something else began to take root.
Ren turned his gaze to the broken skylight above. "The Citadel's heart is gone. Without it, the balance will collapse."
Lyra's brow furrowed. "Then we find another."
"There is no other," he said softly. "At least… not in this world."
Her eyes widened slightly. "You mean—"
He nodded. "The path we sealed years ago… it's awakening again. I can feel it calling."
A low hum trembled through the ground, faint but growing stronger. Somewhere deep below, the remnants of the fallen shadow were stirring.
Lyra tightened her grip on his arm. "Then we go together."
He smiled faintly. "You're stubborn."
"So are you."
The air around them pulsed, and the Citadel's ruined runes flickered back to life, reacting to Ren's energy. Threads of starlight curled upward, tracing symbols across the floor—forming a gate made of fractured constellations.
Ren steadied himself and stepped closer to it. "Beyond this… the echoes of what was lost."
Lyra looked at him one last time. "Then let's not lose each other there."
They stepped forward—two souls walking into the unknown as the stars bent to their will. Behind them, the Citadel crumbled, its last light dimming beneath the silent sky.
And far beyond, unseen by either of them, a new shadow opened its eyes in the void between worlds.
---