The first scream ended too quickly.
One of the survivors—a boy no older than fifteen—slumped forward with a shard of glass jutting from his chest. His reflection pulled itself free from the wall, its pale white eyes unblinking, its smile wide and impossibly sharp.
The others backed away in horror.
"What… what the hell is that?" the healer stammered, clutching her staff with trembling fingers.
Kai didn't answer. He already knew. The System had told them plainly: Glassborn. Reflections given form. He could feel the hunger radiating off it, not unlike his Wraith's. The boy's copy tilted its head, dragging the shard free from the corpse with a slick sound.
The body dissolved into ash before anyone could even mourn.
The reflection stepped over it, glass crunching beneath its feet, and raised the shard again.
Kai moved before anyone else. His shadows surged outward, snaring the creature's arm. It hissed like metal scraping metal, twisting against his bind. Its strength was unnatural, the glass grinding against his shadows, but he held fast.
"Move!" he barked.
The scarred man didn't hesitate. He lunged in with both blades, carving through the reflection's chest. Shards of cracked glass sprayed out, but no blood. The creature screamed, a sound that made the glass buildings around them quiver.
Then the walls answered.
Dozens of faces shifted in the translucent surfaces. All white-eyed. All grinning.
The fire-wielder cursed under her breath. "We just woke the whole damn city."
The reflection Kai held writhed violently. It wasn't dying. Its chest wound sealed itself with jagged shards that pushed out of its own body. It laughed — a perfect imitation of the dead boy's voice.
"Why are you running? Why are you afraid?"
The survivors recoiled. Hearing the dead boy's voice echoing in that tone was worse than the Bone Reaper's roar.
Kai's claws burned violet. He ripped the reflection's arm free with his shadows, then drove both claws into its chest. His shadows detonated inside it, cracking the body into fragments. With a final screech, the reflection shattered, its shards dissolving into dust.
Silence fell.
But only for a breath.
The walls convulsed, and from every direction, more reflections stepped out. Ten. Twenty. Thirty. Their pale eyes glowed in the moonlight, their smiles uniform and sickening. Each carried weapons of jagged glass, and each moved with unnatural, jerking speed.
The survivors panicked. Some screamed. Others backed into each other, forming a ragged circle.
Kai straightened, claws dripping with shadow, his chest heaving. His body still hadn't fully recovered from the Reaper, but there was no time. No rest.
The Wraith inside him purred. They are fragile. Weak. Feed us their faces, and we will grow.
Kai clenched his jaw. "Not yours to command."
But his claws twitched. And deep down, he wasn't sure he meant it.
The reflections attacked.
The first wave hit like shattered glass in a storm.
The scarred man spun his dual blades, carving through two at once, though his weapons screeched as they clashed against their jagged bodies. Sparks flew. He snarled, twisting into another strike, but for each reflection he cut, another rose.
The healer shouted incantations, her staff glowing faintly green as she threw a protective barrier around two of the weaker survivors. Shards bounced off it with sharp cracks, but the barrier flickered violently.
The fire-wielder staggered upright, flames licking weakly around her fists. She thrust her palms forward, sending a stream of fire that consumed three reflections at once. Their glass bodies melted into slag, screaming as they fell. But the fire guttered out immediately, leaving her panting.
Kai moved through the chaos like a storm. His shadows lashed outward, snagging reflections by their limbs and pulling them into his claws. Each strike shattered a body, the fragments dissolving into ash. His movements were sharp, ruthless, efficient — but cold.
Too cold.
Every time his claws connected, the hunger inside him swelled. Each reflection killed was another whisper in his head, urging him deeper, urging him to take more. He could feel his Wraith drinking from them, savoring the essence within.
And the survivors noticed.
As Kai ripped through the reflections, the scarred man shot him a glare mid-battle. "You're enjoying this too much!"
Kai didn't answer. He couldn't. His body was trembling, not from exhaustion — from restraint. His claws ached to cut more, his shadows writhed like starving serpents.
Another reflection leapt at him. Kai caught it mid-air, shadows impaling it through the chest. The glassborn screamed in his voice.
"Help me, Kai!"
His claws froze.
It wasn't random. It was speaking in his voice.
The creature grinned, twisting the shard toward him. For a split second, Kai saw his own reflection staring back — pale-eyed, smiling, hungry.
The Wraith whispered, Yes. Kill yourself. Kill us. That is the truth of power.
Kai roared, tearing the reflection apart with savage force. Shards scattered across the street, dissolving into black dust. His claws dripped with shadows, his body trembling with fury.
The scarred man barked, "He's losing it!"
The others hesitated, torn between fighting the horde and watching him. Fear spread through them like poison.
The Wraith laughed inside him. Yes. They will fear you forever. And in the end, they will feed you too.
Kai ground his teeth. "Shut. Up."
He plunged into the horde again, determined to silence both the reflections and the voices.
But deep down, he already knew — Stage Two wasn't just about fighting the Glassborn.
It was about fighting himself.