Trial of the Self

The chamber darkened, the radiant Origin Heart dimming as the three cloaked figures stepped forward. Each radiated power, but it wasn't the energy that unsettled them—it was the familiarity.

Kai's opponent dropped her hood first. It was Hisoka.

"You're not real," Kai hissed, staggering back.

"But I am," she replied, her voice like a blade. "I am the part of you you buried. The rage you never dealt with. The guilt you never forgave."

She moved like smoke, striking fast. Kai blocked, but each clash wasn't just physical—it struck his memories, his heart, dredging up the moment he left her behind. The moment he chose power over love.

Ayaka faced her own reflection—her mother, once lost to time, now cloaked in sorrow.

"You were never enough," the vision whispered. "No matter how strong you became, you only chased shadows."

Tears burned Ayaka's eyes. "You're lying."

"Am I? You hide your heart behind ice because you're afraid of melting."

Her mother attacked—not with blades, but with memories. Each strike was a lesson unlearned, a warmth forgotten. Ayaka fought back with trembling hands, her ice magic faltering under emotional fire.

Ren's trial was different. He stood face to face with… himself.

The other Ren smirked. "You play protector, but you're just a scared boy in armor."

"I'm not you."

"You are exactly me. You just wear your wounds better."

They circled each other, swords drawn. With every clash, doubt echoed.

"You couldn't save your sister. You couldn't stop the war. And you think you'll stop fate?"

But Ren did not break. He roared, his blade catching fire—not from magic, but from resolve. "I am my past. But I am more than it."

At that moment, all three friends rose, side by side again. Bruised, bleeding—but not broken.

The Origin Heart blazed. The illusions cracked. And the whispers fell silent.

The voice returned.

"You have faced yourselves. Now face what comes."

The ground shook. A shadow darker than anything they had faced yet began to rise from the cavern floor—massive, formless, ancient.

The real enemy had finally awakened.