Aetheron took a step forward, his boots pressing against the smooth, dark stone beneath him. The chamber was massive, stretching endlessly in every direction, yet there were no walls. No ceiling. Just an abyss of swirling colors—violet, crimson, gold—shifting like a living thing.
And at the center of it all...
The figure.
They stood motionless, arms at their sides, their face obscured beneath a dark hood. Yet Aetheron could feel their gaze—sharp, dissecting, waiting.
The air between them was thick with something unspoken.
Then—
"You are not the first to reach this place."
The voice was smooth, neither hostile nor welcoming. It simply was.
Aetheron narrowed his eyes. "And I take it the others didn't make it far?"
A low chuckle.
"Some walked this path and were found lacking."
The figure lifted their head.
Aetheron froze.
Because beneath the hood—it was his own face staring back at him.
But not him.
This version of himself was different. Sharper. Older. Colder.
"Some walked this path..." the reflection continued, tilting its head, "and became something more."
Aetheron's fingers twitched. "Who the hell are you?"
The reflection smiled.
"A question with a thousand answers."
Aetheron exhaled through his nose. "Right. A cryptic type. Great."
He took another step closer.
The reflection mirrored him exactly.
"But if I had to answer..." they mused, raising a hand, fingers flexing as if testing their own existence, "I would say... I am the possibility you have yet to grasp."
The space around them shuddered.
Aetheron's Dominion stirred in response.
Something was about to happen.
The First Strike
The reflection moved first.
One moment, they were standing still.
The next—they were right in front of him.
Aetheron barely had time to react.
A fist came for his face.
His instincts screamed. He twisted, dodging by a hair's breadth. The sheer force of the punch cracked the air where his head had been.
Aetheron countered immediately.
His Dominion surged, energy crackling around his arm as he swung.
The reflection caught it.
Their grip was like iron.
Aetheron's eyes widened.
Then—
BAM!
Aetheron's back slammed into the ground, the impact shaking the entire chamber. His vision blurred for half a second before he rolled away just as a foot came crashing down.
BOOM!
The stone beneath him exploded.
Aetheron landed on his feet, skidding back. His heart pounded.
Fast. Strong. Too damn precise.
His reflection straightened, flexing their fingers. "Disappointing."
Aetheron exhaled. "Yeah? Guess I'll just have to pick up the pace."
And then—
He attacked.
Dominion Against Dominion
Aetheron vanished.
Not literally, but his speed blurred his form. He reappeared behind the reflection, his arm crackling with power—
And struck.
The reflection blocked it.
No hesitation. No wasted movement.
Then—they countered.
Aetheron dodged, barely slipping past a strike that would've shattered his ribs. He retaliated with a sweep, aiming for the legs—
The reflection jumped, flipping midair, and brought down an axe kick.
Aetheron crossed his arms to block.
BOOM!
The force sent him slamming into the ground again.
But he didn't stop.
He moved before he even hit the floor, twisting, pushing off, retaliating.
Fists clashed.
Dominions collided.
The chamber trembled.
It was like fighting himself—but better. Faster. Stronger.
The realization hit like a hammer.
This wasn't just some random opponent.
This was him at his peak.
No hesitation. No flaws. Just absolute control.
Aetheron gritted his teeth.
This fight wasn't about winning.
It was about proving himself.
Breaking the Cycle
The reflection moved in again.
But this time—
Aetheron didn't just react.
He anticipated.
When the reflection struck—he sidestepped.
When they countered—he was already gone.
He started seeing the patterns. The way they fought—so refined, so perfect—was also predictable.
They weren't improvising.
They were executing the best version of every move.
Which meant—
They weren't expecting change.
Aetheron smirked.
And he changed.
The Final Clash
The next exchange happened in a blink.
The reflection attacked.
Aetheron moved.
But instead of dodging—he leaned in.
A hand clamped onto the reflection's wrist.
Their eyes widened—just a fraction.
Aetheron's Dominion erupted.
Not in a blast.
Not in an explosion.
But in absorption.
The reflection shuddered.
For the first time in the fight, they hesitated.
Aetheron's smirk widened. "Looks like I'm catching up."
And then—
He pulled them in.
Not physically.
Into his Dominion.
The chamber shook.
The swirling abyss pulsed.
And the reflection—began to dissolve.
Not like an enemy being destroyed.
Not like an illusion breaking apart.
But like something being accepted.
The last thing the reflection did—
Was smile.
"Good. Then you're ready."
And then—
They were gone.
The Shift
The world snapped.
Aetheron blinked.
He was no longer in the chamber.
He was standing in a different place.
A throne room.
Ancient. Vast.
At the center—
A throne of shifting energy.
And seated upon it—
A figure wrapped in shadows.
They spoke, voice calm.
"Come closer, Aetheron."
Aetheron exhaled, rolling his shoulders.
Then—he stepped forward.