The Other Raiyan

Raiyan's breath came in short, uneven gasps. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, but his grip felt weak—like the strength was being drained from his body.

The other him stood before him, silent, unmoving.

It wasn't just a reflection.

It wasn't just an illusion.

It was him.

But different.

The other Raiyan's eyes glowed with something unnatural—something ancient, something wrong. His body, though identical, carried no signs of struggle. No wounds, no exhaustion.

He looked… complete.

Unlike Raiyan, who still felt broken.

Then, the other Raiyan spoke.

"You still don't understand, do you?"

His voice was calm, steady, yet layered with something else. A deeper resonance, as if multiple voices whispered alongside his words.

Raiyan gritted his teeth. "Understand what?"

The other Raiyan tilted his head, as if disappointed.

"That you don't belong here."

The void around them pulsed.

And then—he moved.

Faster than anything Raiyan had ever seen.

No warning. No sound.

One moment, the other Raiyan was standing still. The next, he was right in front of him.

Raiyan barely had time to react before—

SLASH.

Pain exploded across his chest. His body was sent flying backward, spinning through the void.

When he hit the ground—if it could even be called that—he coughed violently. His vision blurred. His chest burned.

He looked down.

A deep gash stretched from his shoulder to his ribs.

His own blood.

His own pain.

His own sword had never felt this sharp, this deadly.

But the other Raiyan wasn't wielding a weapon.

He hadn't drawn a sword.

He didn't need one.

Because he was the weapon.

---

Raiyan forced himself to stand. His limbs trembled, but he wouldn't—couldn't—stay down.

Not now.

Not when something inside him screamed that this wasn't just a fight.

It was a test.

Or worse—a punishment.

The other Raiyan sighed.

"Still resisting?"

His golden eyes narrowed.

"You truly don't see it."

He raised his hand.

And suddenly—the void cracked.

Like glass shattering.

Raiyan's surroundings changed.

No longer floating in endless nothingness, he was—

Back in Osaka.

His small, cramped apartment. The flickering ceiling light. The faint hum of the city outside.

It was all exactly as he remembered.

Even the faint smell of instant noodles lingered in the air.

But something was wrong.

Because he wasn't there.

At least… not alone.

A younger version of himself sat on the floor, knees pulled to his chest. Six years old.

Tears stained the boy's cheeks. His body trembled.

The old wound on his back—the one he had long since forgotten—was fresh again. Blood seeped through his torn shirt.

And standing over him…

Was the other Raiyan.

Watching. Waiting.

Raiyan felt something tighten in his chest.

This isn't real. This isn't real.

But it was.

Because he remembered this moment.

This was the night he learned weakness.

The night when he realized no one was coming to save him.

The night when hope finally died.

And the other Raiyan whispered—

"You were never meant to survive."

---

Raiyan's vision blurred with rage. "Shut up."

The other him didn't react.

"You were supposed to die that night."

"Shut up!"

"But you didn't."

A slow step forward.

"And now, you are something that should not exist."

Raiyan moved.

His blade swung, fueled by raw fury—

But the other Raiyan caught it with his bare hand.

The impact should have cut through flesh. Bone. Muscle.

Instead, it didn't even leave a scratch.

Raiyan's eyes widened.

The other him smiled.

And then—his grip tightened.

Cracks spread through Raiyan's sword.

Then—

Shatter.

The blade broke.

Splintered. Useless.

Raiyan staggered back, staring at the broken hilt in his trembling hands.

His weapon—his only defense—was gone.

The other Raiyan's voice was almost gentle.

"Now do you see?"

A cold dread settled in Raiyan's chest.

"You are not a hero. Not a chosen one. Not even a survivor."

The world around them trembled.

"You are a mistake."

---

A heavy force crashed down on Raiyan's body. His knees buckled. His breathing turned ragged.

Something was pulling him down.

Chains—invisible, but unbreakable.

Wrapping around his arms, his legs, his throat.

Dragging him deeper.

"Let go," the other Raiyan whispered.

His voice was hypnotic, suffocating.

"Let it end."

The chains tightened.

Darkness crept into Raiyan's vision. His body felt cold.

His mind screamed at him to fight.

To resist.

But for the first time…

He wasn't sure if he could.

If he should.

Because maybe—just maybe—

The other Raiyan was right.

---

To Be Continued…