Chapter 6: A Mirror of Myself
Chapter 6: A Mirror of Myself
I stood frozen in the endless void, staring at myself.
No, not quite me. A version of me.
The figure had my face, my features, but its expression was hollow. Its eyes held no light, no warmth—just a deep, calculating coldness. I could feel it studying me the way a predator sizes up its prey.
My fingers tightened around the hilt of my sword. The weight of it grounded me, but the presence of my reflection made it feel like I was gripping an anchor rather than a weapon.
The figure took a step forward, and the void rippled beneath its feet.
"Do you understand now?" it asked, its voice eerily identical to mine. "This illusion isn't just a test—it's a revelation."
A part of me wanted to deny it, to push back against whatever mind game Chiyo had set up. But deep down, I knew the truth. This wasn't just an illusion anymore. It was a confrontation.
I had ranked myself without realizing it.
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[Ranking Criteria: "What part of myself do I fear the most?"]
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1. My own selfishness (92.4%) – The lengths I'm willing to go to for my own goals.
2. My lack of control (89.3%) – The fear that one mistake will cost me everything.
3. The fact that I might actually enjoy this (85.8%) – The creeping suspicion that deep down, I don't want to be saved.
4. The idea that none of this matters (74.1%) – That I might be playing a game with no real meaning.
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I exhaled slowly. Option 1. My own selfishness.
Yeah. That tracked.
The version of me in front of me smiled, as if it had read my thoughts. "You're afraid of what you already know is true."
I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I let the silence stretch between us.
Was I afraid?
I was a selfish bastard. I had made my peace with that. I wasn't here to be a hero, to sacrifice myself for some grand ideal. I was here to survive, to carve out my own place in this world.
And yet—
There was a fine line between being selfish and losing yourself completely.
I swallowed. "I don't fear my selfishness."
My reflection raised an eyebrow, almost amused. "No?"
I took a step forward, my sword still at the ready. "No," I repeated. "I fear losing control of it."
For the first time, my reflection tilted its head, considering my words. "Interesting."
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Step 1: Understanding the Reflection
The void around us pulsed, shifting ever so slightly, like the fabric of the illusion was waiting for my next move.
I didn't attack. Not yet.
If this was truly a reflection of myself, then fighting it head-on was meaningless. It would match me, step for step, thought for thought.
The real battle wasn't about who was stronger. It was about who understood the truth better.
My mind whirred, ranking possibilities.
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[Ranking Criteria: "How do I defeat my reflection?"]
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1. Accept it as part of me (97.2%) – Integration, not destruction, is the key.
2. Overpower it in a direct fight (78.4%) – Difficult, and likely pointless.
3. Outsmart it (83.5%) – Play against my own instincts.
4. Reject it completely (64.1%) – Risky. It might just come back stronger.
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The answer was clear.
I lowered my sword.
My reflection's expression didn't change, but I could feel something in the void shift.
"You're not here to be destroyed," I said, my voice steady. "You're here because you're part of me."
The figure stopped moving.
A flicker of something passed through its cold eyes—recognition.
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Step 2: Embracing the Truth
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.
I wasn't fighting an enemy.
I was fighting the part of me that I didn't want to admit existed.
The part of me that was willing to manipulate, to take advantage, to use people if it meant getting ahead. The part that didn't care about right or wrong—just results.
I had spent so much time trying to control it, rationalize it, that I never stopped to think…
Maybe I didn't need to fight it at all.
I took another step forward, closing the distance between me and my reflection.
"I get it now," I said. "You're not my enemy. You're my edge."
The reflection smirked. "Took you long enough."
And then—
The void collapsed.
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Step 3: Waking Up
I gasped, snapping back to reality like I had been drowning and just broken through the surface.
The desert was gone.
Instead, I was back in Chiyo's training room, my body covered in a light sheen of sweat, my breath coming in heavy pants. The sword was still in my hand—but it felt lighter now. More natural.
I blinked, adjusting to the dim light of the room.
Chiyo sat across from me, watching, one eyebrow raised. "Well?" she asked. "Figure it out?"
I exhaled. "Yeah."
She leaned forward, intrigued. "And?"
I met her gaze, a small smirk tugging at my lips.
"I know exactly who I am now."
Chiyo studied me for a long moment, then let out a low chuckle. "Good. Then you might actually survive in this world."
I rolled my shoulders, feeling a new sense of clarity settle into my bones.
I wasn't some misunderstood hero. I wasn't a tragic figure looking for redemption.
I was just me—a selfish bastard who knew exactly what he wanted.
And now?
I had all the tools I needed to get it.
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End of Chapter 6.