The Preperation 4

Kouneli took a step back, the sound of his own breath rattling in his ears. The void stretched endlessly, swallowing all sight, all sound—except for the figure before him.

Long hair, pale complexion, and eyes that burned like twin rings of frozen fire. It spoke in a voice that was neither loud nor soft, neither cold nor warm, yet it reverberated within Kouneli's chest as if it had always been there, waiting for this moment to whisper in his ear.

"Who… who are you?" Kouneli asked, forcing himself to remain still, though every muscle screamed at him to run.

It tilted its head, as if genuinely puzzled. "You don't recognize me?"

Kouneli clenched his fists. "No. I don't."

A sigh, almost melancholic. "That saddens me. I have always been with you. I am you."

"What…?" Kouneli's throat dried, and he took another step back.

The figure's expression remained unreadable. "Why do you hesitate? You have called to me all your life. When you were weak, when you were bleeding, when you thought you would die—I was there, wasn't I?"

Kouneli felt his heartbeat pounding against his ribcage. The presence before him… it wasn't lying. He could feel it, deep in his bones, a familiarity that made his skin crawl.

"If that's true," Kouneli said, exhaling slowly, "then lend me your power. If you're really my resonance, then fight by my side."

The figure chuckled. A sharp, echoing sound, devoid of warmth. "Lend you my power? Kouneli, Kouneli…" It took a step forward, and though it never reached out, Kouneli felt an invisible weight press upon him. "Why would I lend you something that is already yours?"

Kouneli froze. "What…?"

"We are the same. You and I. There is no difference between us."

Kouneli opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"There it is," the figure murmured. "You understand, don't you? You beg for power, you reach out to something that does not exist separately from you. Why do you look outward when the only place you should be looking is inward?"

Kouneli's breathing grew uneven. He couldn't refute it. It was a logic that made no sense, yet it felt undeniable.

The figure leaned closer, its voice dropping to a whisper. "But there is a difference between us, Kouneli."

Kouneli snapped his head up. "What?"

"Our mindsets."

A gust of wind howled through the void, sending the black gas swirling around them. The figure's eyes burned brighter.

"You are shackled by your past. You cling to it, let it weigh you down, let it define your every move. You run, you hesitate, you fear."

Kouneli's nails dug into his palms. "That's—"

"But me?" The figure's voice cut through him like a blade. "I do not hesitate. I do not cower. I do not fear the past. I survive. I evolve. I overcome."

It took another step forward, and this time, Kouneli couldn't move back.

"A person bound by the past," the figure whispered, "can never step forward into the future."

—

Leonardo Zeshi stood in his inner world, but something was different.

The city stretched endlessly, white and gold towers piercing the sky, their surfaces gleaming under a radiant sun. The air was thick with the scent of something familiar, something holy. He had seen this place before, yet it had never been like this.

"Virtue," Leo called out. No answer. "Hey, Virtue! Where the hell are you?"

Silence.

Then, a voice that was not Virtue's. "Why are you calling for someone else," the voice mused, "when you already have me?"

Leo spun around, hand instinctively reaching for his sword.

A figure stood there, shifting, morphing. A grotesque, giant hand with countless eyes along its palm—until, suddenly, it wasn't. The form twisted, limbs stretching, skin molding, until it was an exact replica of Leo himself.

Almost.

Blonde hair. Golden horns sprouting from his head. White and gold robes that shimmered under the sun's light.

Leo narrowed his eyes. "Who the hell are you?"

The figure smiled. "That's a dumb question."

The sun blazed behind it, casting a long shadow. Its golden eyes met Leo's own, filled with an unsettling certainty.

"Who else would I be?"