REFLECTIONS OF THE RECKONING

The temple was silent, save for the hum of the two portals—one golden, one red. Kieran's breath felt tight in his chest as he stared at the figures emerging from the unstable rift.

Their doppelgängers stood before them, **not exact replicas, but twisted versions**—shaped by a reality that should not exist.

His own reflection was the most unsettling. The other Kieran had **void-black eyes**, and his expression was unreadable, but something told him that this version had also seen the future—just not in the same way.

Elara's doppelgänger was constantly shifting, unable to hold a single form for more than a few moments. Her face flickered between different animals, different versions of herself—like she had lost control of her ability.

And then there was Rebel's counterpart—**the golden version of him, radiating unchecked power**. His eyes burned like twin suns, and his expression held a calmness that sent a chill down Kieran's spine.

The real Rebel stepped forward first, his hand instinctively going to his belt, where one of his artifacts rested. "What are you?" he asked coldly.

The golden Rebel tilted his head. "The same as you. A survivor."

Elara swallowed hard, staring at the shifting version of herself. "This isn't possible. How do you even exist?"

The void-eyed Kieran finally spoke, his voice eerily familiar but laced with something darker. "The Reckoning did not just create a choice. It created **paths**. Splintered futures."

Kieran's stomach twisted. "And you're from one of them."

The shifting Elara flickered between her human form and a fox, her expression twisting in pain before settling into something close to a smirk. "Not just from one. From **all** of them."

Elara stiffened. "What does that mean?"

Golden Rebel stepped forward. "It means the Reckoning did more than fracture the balance between Earth and Natuka. It fractured **time itself**."

The weight of his words sank like a stone in Kieran's chest. **Time itself was unraveling.**

Kieran shook his head. "That's not possible. We only had two choices—Natuka or Earth."

The void-eyed version of himself gave a hollow smile. "You were meant to. But your hesitation, your defiance, your very existence changed that. Now, the Reckoning has left an open wound. One that leads here—to a future where the choice was never made, where the worlds did not separate, but instead began to consume each other."

Elara clenched her fists. "And what happens if we don't fix it?"

Golden Rebel's voice was quiet but firm. "Then all paths collapse."

A cold dread settled over them.

The Reckoning wasn't just a choice anymore. It was a **ticking clock.**

And now, the question wasn't just **which world to save**—but whether they had already doomed both.

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