The Guild didn't wait.
They surged from the ruined city like smoke and shadow, blades drawn, magic curling at their fingertips. There were more of them than I had expected—dozens, maybe a hundred—each wrapped in blackened cloth and ancient bone armor, faces hidden, eyes glowing with the ember-light of corrupted Loom energy.
Kael's sword hissed as it came alive with silver fire.
Riven spun his twin daggers and dropped into a low stance, tense and quiet.
And me?
I reached for the Loom.
It came to me faster now—less resistance, more hunger. My fingertips burned with the familiar hum of power, and in that moment, I didn't care that the mirror-me had warned me.
I was tired of running.
I raised my hand, and the air cracked.
A bolt of pure blue-white energy snapped from my palm, slicing across the rocky field and tearing through the first wave of attackers like lightning through dead wood.
Kael moved beside me, his blade whirling in wide arcs that sent silver flames flying with every strike. He wasn't just fighting—he was dancing. Beautiful, deadly, relentless.
But it was Riven who surprised me most.
He moved like smoke, slipping between enemies, landing precise, lethal blows that left no time for recovery. He didn't speak. Didn't hesitate. There was something raw about the way he fought now—emptier than before. Like losing his memory had hollowed him out and left only instinct.
"They're trying to push us back!" Kael called over the chaos. "Away from the Rift!"
I looked ahead.
Sure enough, the Guild was forcing us into a half-circle, corralling us like cattle.
They weren't just trying to kill us.
They were trying to trap us.
I narrowed my eyes and reached deeper into the Loom.
And that's when I felt her.
The woman from the mirror.
The other me.
Her voice curled into my mind like a shadowed wind.
> "This is where you begin to choose. Do you fight for what you love... or what you want?"
I screamed and let the energy loose.
The blast shattered the earth.
Guild members flew backward.
A wide ring of scorched stone formed around us—an unintentional shield, but it gave us breathing space.
Kael gripped my wrist. "Are you okay?"
I nodded, panting. "No. But I'm not done."
Far ahead, one figure hadn't moved. She stood at the edge of the Rift, taller than the rest, her robes woven with flickers of living shadow. Her mask bore six eyes.
The commander.
She raised one hand and pointed directly at me.
And the battlefield fell silent.
--