Chapter 36

The moment Elliot stepped onto the floating bridge, a strange sensation wrapped around him—like walking through a thick curtain of mist, though nothing was visible to the eye.

The bridge stretched endlessly ahead, its surface made of polished obsidian that reflected the sky above. His own reflection stared back at him, but… there was something off.

The reflection moved differently.

Elliot took a step forward. His reflection hesitated.

Another step. His reflection lagged behind, then suddenly lurched forward—too fast—closing the gap.

Then—

It smiled.

Elliot's breath caught. He hadn't smiled. But the reflection… it grinned at him, eyes gleaming with an eerie light.

A voice slithered into his mind.

"Do you even know who you are?"

Elliot's grip tightened on his sword.

"Just a reflection," he muttered. "Nothing more."

The reflection's grin widened.

"Is that what you think?"

With a sudden burst, the image leaped from the bridge—turning real.

Elliot barely had time to react before a blade swung toward his throat.

CLANG!

Sparks exploded as he blocked the attack. The force sent him skidding backward, boots scraping against the bridge's smooth surface.

He looked up—

And found himself staring into his own eyes.

The doppelgänger smirked, lowering its sword into a ready stance.

"Let's see if you're worthy of being 'Elliot'."

Then it attacked.

The battle was instant chaos.

Steel clashed against steel, each strike perfectly mirrored. Every move Elliot made was anticipated—countered—thrown back at him with equal force.

This wasn't just an enemy.

This was himself.

Every hesitation. Every flaw. Every weakness.

And it fought without mercy.

Elliot gritted his teeth, ducking under a horizontal slash. He countered with a feint—only for the doppelgänger to predict it, twisting out of the way and delivering a brutal kick to his ribs.

THUD!

He crashed onto the bridge, gasping.

The reflection loomed over him, blade aimed at his chest.

"You can't defeat me."

Elliot coughed, struggling to rise. His limbs felt heavy. His breath ragged.

But then—

A thought struck him.

This wasn't a battle of strength.

This was a battle of self.

Slowly, he lowered his sword.

The reflection hesitated.

"Giving up?" it asked.

Elliot met its gaze. "No."

He exhaled deeply.

Then, with deliberate motion—

He stepped forward.

Not to fight.

But to embrace.

The reflection's eyes widened in shock.

For a moment, everything froze.

Then—

A burst of light erupted between them.

The reflection shattered into countless fragments, dissolving into golden dust.

The bridge trembled.

And ahead—

The path opened.

Elliot stood there, heart pounding. His sword felt lighter. His mind… clearer.

He wasn't perfect. He had weaknesses. But they didn't define him.

Taking a steady breath, he turned forward—

And continued walking.

Elliot stepped forward, the shattered fragments of his doppelgänger dissolving into golden mist behind him. The obsidian bridge trembled, shifting beneath his feet, as if acknowledging his victory.

Ahead, the mist parted, revealing an archway of swirling silver light. Beyond it, faint outlines of an unfamiliar landscape shimmered—mountains floating in the sky, rivers of glowing energy twisting through the air.

A new realm.

His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword.

"Is this the next trial?"

The voice that had haunted him moments ago was gone, yet its echoes lingered in his mind. The battle had been more than just steel clashing—it had been a test of self.

One he had barely passed.

Elliot took a deep breath and stepped through the archway.

—

The transition was instant.

One moment, he was on the bridge.

The next—

He stood in the middle of a vast, open field. The sky above was wrong—a swirling expanse of violet and deep crimson, filled with floating islands that defied gravity. Enormous ruins loomed in the distance, their architecture ancient and foreboding.

A sudden breeze carried whispers past his ear.

"Seek the Keeper."

Elliot spun around, but the field was empty. The voice had no source.

He exhaled slowly.

Alright. Keep moving.

His boots crunched against the silver grass as he made his way toward the ruins.

As he walked, the feeling of being watched settled over him.

Something was here.

He paused, muscles tensing.

Then—

A shadow flickered across the ground.

Elliot reacted instantly, rolling to the side as a massive claw slammed into the spot where he had stood. The impact cracked the earth, sending silver dust flying.

A guttural growl echoed through the air.

Elliot whipped around—

And found himself staring into the eyes of a colossal, four-legged beast.

Its body was shrouded in wisps of darkness, shifting like smoke. Its eyes burned with unnatural blue fire, locked onto him with predatory focus.

A Guardian.

Elliot gritted his teeth.

"Of course there's a monster."

The Guardian crouched, muscles coiling—

Then lunged.

Elliot barely had time to dodge before its claws swiped past his shoulder, tearing through the air like a blade. He retaliated with a swift upward slash—

CLANG!

His sword bounced off the creature's hide.

"Tch—"

The Guardian wasted no time, launching a relentless barrage of attacks. Elliot ducked, weaved, barely keeping ahead of the assault. One misstep, one hesitation—

And he'd be torn apart.

Then—

The whispers returned.

"Use the blade of echoes."

Elliot didn't know what that meant. But instinct guided him.

As the Guardian lunged again, he twisted his grip—channeling something new.

His sword glowed.

The same golden mist that had once been his reflection swirled around the blade, reshaping it—turning it into something more.

Elliot didn't hesitate.

He stepped forward.

And struck.

The moment his blade met the Guardian's hide—

A wave of energy exploded outward.

The beast howled, its smoky form unraveling—dispersing like fog under sunlight.

Elliot stood there, panting, his sword still humming with power.

Then, the whispers spoke one final time.

"The Keeper awaits."

Ahead, beyond the ruins—

A massive, ancient door rumbled open.

Elliot wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Alright. Let's see where this leads."

And with that, he stepped forward.

The ancient doors groaned open, revealing a grand hall bathed in dim, ethereal light. Towering pillars stretched toward a ceiling lost in shadow, and the floor beneath Elliot's boots shimmered like liquid obsidian. A heavy silence filled the air, thick with unseen presence.

He stepped inside.

The doors slammed shut behind him.

Elliot barely flinched. He had expected that.

At the far end of the hall, seated atop a raised dais, was a figure cloaked in flowing white and gold. Their face was obscured by a smooth, featureless mask, save for two glowing slits where eyes should be.

The Keeper.

They radiated an aura of authority, a weight that pressed against Elliot's very being.

"So you have come." The Keeper's voice was neither male nor female, carrying a reverberation that made it impossible to tell where it originated.

Elliot kept his stance firm. No sudden moves.

"I was told to seek you." His voice was steady. "What do you want from me?"

The Keeper's mask tilted slightly.

"What do you want, Elliot Nightshade?"

A ripple of unease slid through him.

Of course, they knew his name.

"Do you seek power?"

A pause.

Then—

"Or do you seek truth?"

Elliot frowned. "What's the difference?"

The Keeper raised a hand. The air around them shimmered—

And then—

The hall changed.

The vast space twisted and folded, warping into a scene from his past.

A cold alleyway. A bloodied dagger in his grip. The weight of desperation pressing on his shoulders.

"Power is the means to shape the world around you." The Keeper's voice echoed.

The alley faded—replaced by the towering figure of his father.

Cold eyes. Unyielding judgment. The suffocating pressure of expectations he had failed to meet.

"Truth is the burden of understanding what lies beneath."

The images dissolved, leaving him standing alone in the hall once more.

Elliot exhaled slowly.

"You're saying I have to choose?"

The Keeper's glowing eyes locked onto him.

"No, Elliot Nightshade. You already have."

A pulse of energy surged through the chamber—

And suddenly, the ground disappeared.

Elliot plunged into darkness.

—

The fall was brief.

He landed smoothly—too smoothly—on what felt like solid ground, but there was nothing beneath him. Just an endless abyss stretching in every direction.

A heartbeat later, flickering lights appeared around him, forming a circle of reflections.

Versions of himself.

Each stood motionless, yet their eyes were alive—piercing into him.

One of them stepped forward.

It was him, but… different.

Dressed in royal blue, carrying himself with effortless confidence. This Elliot had an unmistakable air of nobility, of destiny fulfilled.

"The Elliot who embraced power," the Keeper's voice whispered.

Another figure emerged.

This one wore dark, tattered clothes, his expression shadowed by exhaustion. But his eyes burned with knowing—as if he had seen everything and survived.

"The Elliot who sought truth."

Elliot clenched his fists. "And what? I'm supposed to fight them?"

The Keeper's voice was softer now.

"No. You must decide which path is truly yours."

The reflections stepped closer, their forms flickering like mirages.

Elliot's grip tightened around his sword.

And then, with steady resolve—

He made his choice.