The Scars That Dream

They didn't know how long they'd been walking.

The corridors behind the shattered citadel bent like bones broken and poorly healed, twisting back on themselves, filled with the scent of burnt ink and silence soaked in screams.

Elías led them.

The scythe at his back now pulsed in rhythm with his breath. Or his heartbeat. Or maybe the breath of something far older.

"Are we still in the same realm?" Aira asked, voice low. "This place… it hums."

Kael grunted, wiping blood from a gash on his shoulder. "Humming's better than screaming."

Juna stopped suddenly. "Look."

The hallway had opened into a vast gallery — ceiling too far to see, floor cracked with ancient script. Floating pages drifted in the air, glowing faintly.

"Memories," Elías said. "Torn loose."

"From what?" Kael asked.

Elías didn't answer.

Because he already knew.

From him.

---

At the center of the chamber stood a figure.

It was robed in smoke. Its face was a blank mask — no eyes, no mouth — but when it turned, they all felt seen.

Kael's hand dropped to his sword. "I don't like this."

The figure didn't move.

But its presence reached them like cold fingers slipping under skin.

"You carry the wound," it said. "The one that dreams."

Elías stepped forward. "Who are you?"

"I am what remains when names are lost."

The Scythe of Death hissed.

Aira whispered, "It's a Dreamscar."

The room cracked open like skin splitting under pressure. Flames bled through the walls, and with them came shapes.

Not demons.

Versions.

Of them.

Twisted.

Ruined.

Wrong.

One Elías with eyes stitched shut and a blade made of screaming.

One Juna burning with glyphs that consumed her skin.

Kael, fused with his sword. Aira, crying shadows.

Each of them stepped forward.

And attacked.

---

The battle was chaos.

Steel met steel. Shadows collided with fire. Glyphs exploded in the air like living runes.

Kael roared, facing his warped self. "Come on then, bastard!"

Their swords clashed, the corrupted version laughing with every blow.

Aira vanished and reappeared behind her other, slicing deep — only to be caught in a mirror trap.

Juna screamed a spell that tore the floor open. "They're not illusions! They remember how we fight!"

Elías was already bleeding.

His double didn't speak — it burned.

Each strike from its scythe sent memories flying — memories Elías forgot he had.

"I don't want this," he growled, parrying another blow.

"But you chose this," the twisted Elías hissed. "You chose the scythe. The silence. The name."

"I chose to protect them."

"Then die with them."

Their weapons met — and the chamber cracked.

The Dreamscar began to chant in a language no one knew, but all of them felt.

Juna fell to her knees, whispering, "It's rewriting us..."

Elías looked around. His friends were losing. The copies were stronger. They knew their fears, their flaws. They were their flaws.

He had to end it.

Not with steel.

But with name.

He slammed the scythe into the ground.

"ENOUGH!"

A wave of silence tore through the gallery.

The doubles froze.

The Dreamscar turned.

"You invoke silence?" it asked.

"I invoke myself," Elías said. "I am not your echo. I am not your memory. I am what stands when both fail."

He stepped into the air — onto the floating pages.

One by one, they wrapped around him, forming a cloak of story.

Juna whispered, "He's rewriting himself."

Aira nodded. "He's burning the false versions."

And Kael just laughed, blood on his teeth. "About damn time."

---

The room ignited in white fire.

The twisted selves screamed as they disintegrated.

The Dreamscar flailed — but Elías landed before it, scythe raised high.

"You're not my fear," he said.

"I am your scar."

Elías nodded. "Then heal."

The scythe fell.

The Dreamscar shattered.

---

When it was over, the floating pages drifted down like ash.

Kael leaned against a broken column, panting. "That... sucked."

Aira limped over, still fading between shadows. "We all alive?"

"Barely," Juna said, cradling her head.

Elías stood in the center, the scythe now silent in his hand.

"I think... we've only just begun."

---

From the wall behind the Dreamscar's ruin, a door opened.

Beyond it — a spiral staircase made of bone and ink, leading down into blackness.

A voice whispered from below:

"Only those who remember themselves may enter."

Elías turned to his friends.

"You still with me?"

Kael grinned. "Always."

Aira smirked. "I've come too far to die normal."

Juna wiped blood from her mouth. "Let's find the next lie."

And together, they descended into the next scar of the world.