The chamber was silent, but Mirshad wasn't alone anymore.
He sat in the center, knees bent, sweat dripping from his face onto the cold steel floor. His knuckles were still bleeding from beating his own reflection into nothingness, but the pain didn't matter.
Because the silence had a voice now.
It wasn't a whisper. It wasn't a scream. It was calm, clear — and terrifyingly familiar.
It was him.
"You finally looked at me."
Mirshad's head snapped up. Across the room, sitting on an identical steel chair, was himself — but different.
The face was the same, but sharper — skin smoother, eyes colder, confidence radiating from every movement.
He wasn't wearing rags or bloodstained clothes. He was dressed in a flawless black suit, the kind only a man who feared nothing would wear.
The other Mirshad leaned back in the chair, arms casually resting on the armrests, legs crossed like a king who had just taken his throne.
"Took you long enough to see me."
Mirshad's throat felt dry, but he forced his voice out.
"Who… what are you?"
The devil smiled — a smile too familiar, too natural.
"I'm you. The you that was always hiding, waiting for you to grow strong enough to handle me."
Mirshad shook his head. "You're not me."
The smile faded, and the voice sharpened.
"I am. Every time you clenched your fists but didn't fight back. Every time you wanted to scream but swallowed it down. Every time you were afraid — I was the one who wished we weren't."
The chamber felt smaller, the air heavier.
"I'm the reason you're still alive."
Mirshad's hands trembled. "If you're me, then why do you feel like a stranger?"
The other Mirshad stood, walking slowly around him, footsteps echoing like gunshots.
"Because I'm the part of you that never had a voice. The part you buried so deep under fear, doubt, and dreams of being ordinary."
He crouched beside Mirshad, eyes locking onto his.
"But guess what? Ordinary is dead. The world doesn't need another Mirshad."
He stood again, arms spread wide.
"It needs me."
Mirshad's voice cracked. "Who are you?"
The devil's smile returned — cold, unstoppable.
"I'm MRD."
Mirshad's head spun. The chamber flickered — reality mixing with hallucination, memories blending with visions of the future.
"I don't want to be you."
MRD walked closer, towering over him.
"You don't have a choice. I'm already inside you."
Mirshad's breath grew ragged. "Then why are you talking to me? Why not just take over?"
MRD crouched again, this time with a cold grin.
"Because even though I'm stronger — you're the heart."
He tapped Mirshad's chest.
"I'm the blade. You're the hand that holds it."
Mirshad swallowed. "You need me."
MRD nodded. "And you need me. Without me, you're just a scared boy with a good heart."
He stood, stepping back into the shadows.
"But together — we are death."
The chamber fell silent again.
But Mirshad knew — silence wasn't emptiness anymore.
It was himself.
As the lights dimmed, MRD's voice echoed one last time.
"You can fight me all you want, but when the real enemies come…"
The voice sharpened, filling the room like thunder.
"…they won't fear you."
"They will fear me."