Chapitre 26: Chapter 26
In the recesses of the ruins, where shadows danced their intricate ballet, Kiyotaka and Sunny found themselves in a silent communion, their words echoing in the emptiness.
Sunny's voice, tinged with a blend of apprehension and curiosity, pierced the stillness first.
"So... what the hell was that? I thought I was the crazy one, but seeing you in that state..."
Kiyotaka leaned against the wall, his eyes and hair returning back to normal.
"A test."
Sunny grimaced.
"A goddamn test... crazy."
Silence returned as they didn't speak anymore.
---
Kiyotaka returned to the castle and slumped down on his bed, closing his eyes.
What he didn't expect to see was a Dream. Dreams are not supposed to be seen in a Dream Realm. Cassie saw them due to her oracle ability. Thinking of Cassie, Kiyotaka immediately suspected that she might have wanted to send a dream to him, like she did with Sunny when they were close to the Soul Devourer.
The moment he saw the place where he stood, he discarded this suspicion immediately. Because he found himself in a White Room.
Kiyotaka's heart quickened as he found himself standing in the familiar expanse of the White Room. His eyes scanned the pristine surroundings, searching for any sign of the dream's origin.
But what greeted him was beyond his expectations.
There, in the corner of the training room, stood a figure that sent a shiver down his spine. It was him, yet not him – a twisted reflection of himself. Blood-red eyes gleamed with manic fervor, and strands of crimson hair cascaded around his shoulders like tendrils of fire. But the most striking feature was the pair of vermillion angelic wings unfurled proudly behind him, a stark contrast against the sterile white backdrop.
For a moment, Kiyotaka stood frozen, unable to tear his gaze away from the aberrant apparition before him. The air crackled with an eerie energy, the tension palpable in the stillness of the room.
What did this vision mean? Was it a manifestation of his inner turmoil, a reflection of his deepest fears and desires? Or was it something more sinister, a portent of impending doom?
As the seconds stretched into eternity, Kiyotaka felt something settle in the pit of his stomach. Whatever this dream was, it held a significance that could not be ignored. And as he stared into the eyes of his twisted doppelganger, he knew that confronting this specter would be the only way to uncover the truth lurking beneath the surface.
The clash between Kiyotaka and his twisted reflection erupted like a tempest within the confines of the White Room. The twisted version surged forward with primal ferocity, its vermillion wings casting ominous shadows against the pristine walls.
In terms of raw strength and speed, the twisted incarnation held the advantage. Its movements were fluid and lightning-fast, each strike imbued with a savage intensity that threatened to overwhelm Kiyotaka. But the original Kiyotaka was no stranger to adversity. While he may have been outmatched in sheer physical prowess, his mind was a well-honed weapon, sharp and incisive.
With calculated precision, the original Kiyotaka danced around his doppelganger's onslaught, weaving through the flurry of blows with a grace born of experience. He analyzed each move, anticipating the twisted version's next action before it even occurred. Where brute force failed, strategy prevailed.
Utilizing his knowledge of combat techniques and psychological warfare, the original Kiyotaka launched a counteroffensive. Feints, traps, and misdirection became his allies as he turned the tide of battle in his favor. With each calculated maneuver, he exploited his adversary's weaknesses, chipping away at its formidable facade.
As the clash reached its crescendo, the original Kiyotaka delivered the decisive blow, a masterstroke of tactics that left his twisted counterpart reeling. Sacrificing his left hand in a daring maneuver, he plunged his remaining blade into the twisted version's heart, severing its lifeforce in one swift motion.
But victory came at a cost. As the twisted version dissolved into a splatter of blood, its form fading into nothingness, a haunting reminder of Kiyotaka's inner turmoil remained etched into the corner of the White Room. Though the physical manifestation had been vanquished, its presence lingered like a specter, a silent testament to the darkness that dwelled within.
---
Kiyotaka opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling. Before he could analyze the dream, the familiar voice of Spell whispered.
[Aspect Legacy unlocked]
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