The Reaper's counterattack

The clones stood over them, unscathed.

The originals had been lost.

And their own reflections had won.

As Rael's breath came in ragged gasps, he felt the cold steel of his own scythe press against his throat. Clone-Rael's expression remained unreadable, yet there was something eerie in his empty stare. "How weak," he muttered.

Eon, still trapped in the loop, fought to break free. She focused her energy, trying every variation of movement, but no matter what she did, she was flung back to the start. The laughter of her doppelgänger echoed in her mind. "You're just a shadow of what I am," clone-Eon taunted, watching her struggle. "Your hesitation makes you weak."

Rael didn't seem to be done yet, despite his body condition. He tried to get up but then his clone stretched the scythe above his head, and unleashed another soul skill without any hesitation.

"Soul skill: Rain of Death."