Date: Monday, February 27, 2025.
Time: 7:30 PM.
The silence of the evening was a profound relief after the agony of forced normalcy at Northwood Academy. Null stood at the front door of their safehouse, watching his friends disperse into the gathering gloom. Sooji, Kai, and the others had no idea of the conceptual war that was fought beneath their high school gym, nor the massive decision they had just made regarding Vane (the key to the Space Stone).
"See you tomorrow, Null," Kai said, his voice quiet. He gave Null a significant look, acknowledging the impending curfew breach and the extraction plan. Kai was tired, the Soulbond power having been strained by the day's constant vigilance.
"Be safe," Null replied, a depth of meaning in the simple phrase that only Kai understood.
Once the door was closed, Null finally allowed the tension to drain from his shoulders. He was home, and the overwhelming weight of the Void King Code felt slightly less aggressive here.
Fang materialized smoothly from the shadows by the fireplace, no longer wearing the mild-mannered teaching assistant façade. His blue eyes, usually cold, now held a focused intensity.
"Tonight is not about running," Fang stated, his voice the resonant rumble of a dimensional anchor. "The King's Guard will not move until they have perfectly calculated your new threat level. They will assume you are recovering. We need to use this window of peace."
Null nodded, the white streaks in his hair pulsing with phantom pain. "We need to secure Vane, but I still don't understand the limits of this 20% of power Umbros left me."
"Exactly," Fang agreed. "The Void King Regeneration—the blessing of that fractional Light Stone within you—is aggressive, but it has a cost. Your new Shadow Mastery is terrifying, but it must have a conceptual weakness. We can't rely on trial and error against Aris or the King of Stone."
Fang walked over to Null, his expression serious. "Here is my idea. You need to fight yourself. Not a memory, but a perfect, conceptually-aligned clone of your current state. You need to learn your weak spots, your energy efficiency, and how fast that regeneration can be conceptually drained."
Null stared, a grim excitement mixing with conceptual dread. "Fight myself? A 20% Void Clone? I accept. I need this diagnostic."
The Conceptual Shift
Null went to his room, changing into light training clothes. He lay down on his bed, closing his eyes. His final thought before drifting off was the cold, distant voice of Umbros—the friend who had destroyed his life to save his existence.
The moment Null's consciousness faded, the air in the room grew heavy. Fang stood over the bed, his form beginning to ripple and stretch as he shed his disguise.
Fang's true form was a spectacle of ancient, contained power:
His hair turned a shock of vibrant yellow, reminiscent of the sun's first light against a void. His body rippled, covered in scattered, overlapping dark scales that spoke of primordial lineage. His face remained sharp, but his eyes were completely obscured by a solid, thick dark eye-fold—a protective conceptual blindfold, a signature mark of the beings closest to Umbros's chaotic, expanding darkness. He wore a heavy, all-encompassing black robe, the cloth absorbing light and making his physical body look like a moving abyss.
With an exertion of silent will, Fang conjured a massive, regal throne made of churning, crystallized shadows directly beside Null's bed. He sat, the throne instantly stabilizing.
Null's consciousness, now separated, registered the shift. He opened his conceptual eyes in the familiar, terrifying reality: the Blood Sea, the thick, viscous water stretching beneath a deep red sky.
"Fang?" Null questioned, staring at the imposing, scaled figure seated on the Shadow Throne. "What's with the get-up? I thought we were fighting."
Fang's voice, though powerful, held a hint of amusement. "Just getting comfortable, little King. Think of this as a motivational intervention. And about the robe... you try expanding the entire universe while wearing jeans. I joke."
Fang stood, his scaled hand sweeping across the blood-red horizon. A surge of Shadow energy, equal to Null's own 20% power, ripped from the Conceptual Sea. It condensed, growing rapidly, until it stood opposite Null: a perfect, chilling duplicate.
The Void Clone Null had the same golden eyes, the same yellow hair streaked with traumatic white, and the same lean build. It carried the same aura of conceptual static.
"This clone has your exact memories, your Code access, and your Light/Shadow Regeneration limits," Fang explained. "It knows you. It knows your fears. It knows you want to combine those five elements more than you want to survive. Don't hold back. I won't interfere unless you cross the threshold into true conceptual destruction."
TheClone of the Void: Internal Conflict
The fight began not with a physical charge, but with a conceptual clash.
Null moved first, testing his new Shadow Mastery. He didn't create spikes; he created an Absence. He twisted the space around the Clone, attempting to conceptually erase the ground beneath its feet and drop it into pure Void.
The Void Clone responded with devastating precision. It didn't defend; it attacked the source. The Clone condensed Null's own shadow into a razor-thin, vibrating blade aimed directly at Null's white memory streaks—the conceptual scar tissue.
The pain was immediate and blinding. It wasn't just physical; it was psychic, flooding Null with agonizing, fragmented images of his family and the green-haired scientist. Null staggered, his concentration breaking.
"You're relying on brute force!" the Clone hissed, its voice Null's own. "Your Shadow Mastery is slow because you fear the memories tied to your true power! You are conceptually timid, King Soren!"
Null roared, discarding finesse. He unleashed a massive, chaotic wave of raw Void Energy—the 20% chaos of Umbros—shoving the Clone backward across the Blood Sea.
The Clone absorbed the blast, its regeneration instantly patching the cracks in its Shadow form. It used the momentum of the blast to launch itself into the air, becoming a blur of pure kinetic darkness.
Tactical Advantage: The Regeneration Drain
"You think the Light Code fragment saves you?" the Clone taunted, landing right in front of Null and engaging in blindingly fast close-quarters combat.
The Clone began a focused flurry of strikes—precise, rapid taps against Null's major organs: liver, heart, head. Null allowed the initial hits, trusting the Void King Regeneration to hold. Crack. Heal. Crack. Heal.
The problem quickly became apparent. While Null was physically fine, the regeneration required constant conceptual energy drain. Every time the Light Code fragment asserted Life over Death, it pulled resources from Null's finite 20% power pool.
Within seconds, Null felt the conceptual static growing weaker. The Clone wasn't trying to kill him; it was trying to make him conceptually bankrupt.
Null had to break the cycle. He stopped defending with his body and channeled all his energy into a dimensional anchor. He seized the Clone's arm, forcing both of them to freeze, conceptual pressure locking their Code fields together.
"What is the weakness?" Null gasped, staring into his own eyes. "Tell me my flaw!"
"You're divided!" the Clone shouted, fighting to break the lock. "You cling to the concept of Shadow Stone when your past self was Five Elements! Your Code is inefficient! And your greatest defense is your greatest vulnerability!"
The Clone then did something unexpected: it slammed its fist not into Null's body, but into the Shadow Prime Stone Null wore.
The conceptual impact was catastrophic. The Clone didn't attack the stone's power; it attacked the stone's singularity.
Null felt the Light Code fragment inside the Shadow Stone scream in response to the attack. The Regeneration surged wildly, trying to protect the source of Life, over-drawing conceptual energy.
Null realized the truth: His regeneration wasn't free. Because it relied on the Light Code fragment embedded in the Shadow Stone, the defense itself became the perfect counter-target. Target the stone, and the defense overloads the attacker's system.
With newfound conceptual clarity, Null broke the lock. He focused his remaining energy, not on darkness, but on the white memory streaks—he forced himself to accept the pain and the memories of Soren, using the agony as a conceptual catalyst.
The resulting blast of power was pure, controlled Conceptual Vengeance. It wasn't 20% Shadow; it was the precision of a King who had finally faced his own conceptual flaw.
The Void Clone shattered, dissolving into a fine, black conceptual dust that settled back into the Blood Sea.
The Dawn of Strategy
Null stood alone, panting in the blood-red conceptual humidity, the knowledge of his weakness—his divided Code and his vulnerable regeneration mechanism—now etched into his being.
He awoke with a jolt in his bed, the light of early morning filtering through his window. The white streaks in his hair felt less like a scar and more like a tool.
Fang stood at the foot of the bed, the Shadow Throne gone, his teaching assistant appearance restored. "You held your own," Fang commented. "The diagnostic is complete. We now know that the King of Stone or The Executioner will target your stone directly to drain your energy. A small conceptual advantage."
Null sat up, his golden eyes filled with renewed purpose. "What is the plan for today, Fang? We have to move."
Fang smiled faintly. "Today, we start the extraction. But first... we need breakfast. And then we need to prepare the conceptual field to hide the Space Stone user until we can move him off-world."