Chapter 14: The Eidolon’s Grasp

The lantern's flame flickered violently, casting jagged shadows along the cold stone walls. Theo stood at the threshold of the ritual chamber, the heavy doors sealing shut behind him with an ominous thud. The air changed—thicker, heavier. It pressed against his skin like unseen hands, dragging the warmth from his body.

Father Emmanuel stood a few steps ahead, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "Are you ready?"

Theo swallowed. Was he? He had no idea what to expect. His memories—both his own and those that belonged to the old Theo—offered no guidance. But if this was anything like the trial that had brought him here, he knew one thing: he might not come back the same.

Still, he forced himself to nod.

Emmanuel turned toward the altar at the center of the chamber, hands lifting in silent invocation. The air rippled as symbols carved into the stone began to glow, filling the space with a dim, golden radiance.

Then, the light warped.

Darkness bled from the edges of the room, swallowing the warm glow. The altar's runes flickered, their radiance struggling against something unseen. A sound—like distant whispers crawling through the walls—slithered into Theo's ears.

Then, he felt it.

A presence.

Not just watching—looming.

The shadows twisted, unfurling like tendrils from the corners of the room, and a figure emerged.

It wasn't human.

The Eidolon stood just beyond the altar, a warped silhouette of shifting blackness, its form barely distinguishable from the surrounding dark. It had no face, yet Theo felt its gaze—deep, hollow, and ancient—boring into him.

The whispers turned into words.

"You are not whole."

Theo's breath hitched.

Something unseen pulled at him, his limbs stiffening as if held in invisible chains. Cold spread through his chest, sinking into his bones, and then—

The room changed.

The ritual chamber vanished.

Theo stood in the middle of an endless black void, the only source of light an eerie glow from somewhere he couldn't see. The Eidolon remained, but now there were others—figures shifting in the dark.

Shadows of people.

They had no faces, only silhouettes. Yet Theo knew them.

His past self. His memories. Samuel.

The Eidolon moved closer.

"Which one are you?"

Pain erupted in Theo's head. He stumbled back, hands clutching his skull as fragmented memories crashed over him. The life he had before. The pain of death. The spiral consuming him. The moment he awakened in Theo's body.

The Eidolon laughed.

The laughter wasn't sound—it was felt, vibrating through his bones like a terrible truth he had been trying to ignore.

"You do not belong."

And then, the void shattered.

Chapter 15: The Fractured Self

Theo gasped as his body hit cold stone. He was back in the ritual chamber—except he wasn't.

The room had warped. The walls stretched impossibly high, shadows writhing along their surfaces. The altar was gone, replaced by a twisted mockery of it, its carvings reversed, pulsating with dark energy.

The Eidolon loomed above him.

"Did you think you could hide?"

Theo scrambled to his feet, his breathing ragged. He tried to step back, but the room twisted around him, warping his movements. It was like he was trapped in a reflection—his own image distorted beyond recognition.

Then, the mirrors appeared.

Dozens of them, circling him.

Each one showed a different version of himself.

One was Theo as he was now, his face pale with fear.

One was Samuel—his old self, with sharp eyes and a familiar scowl, dressed in the clothes he had died in.

One was something else entirely. A version of him with golden eyes, with a shadow trailing behind him, moving independently of his body.

And then—

One was empty.

No reflection.

Theo's heart pounded.

"You do not know who you are."

The Eidolon's voice echoed from everywhere at once.

The empty mirror cracked.

Theo felt something inside him crack, too.

The Eidolon lunged.

Darkness poured into him, burning cold and suffocating. He gasped, choking on the weight pressing into his lungs. His body shifted, twisted—

And then he saw himself.

Not in a mirror.

Not in a reflection.

He saw himself.

Samuel.

His past body. His past face. His past self.

He was changing.

The trial isn't over.