The interrogation chambers beneath the Academy were carved from blackstone—a mineral that consumed light and mana alike. Few students ever saw them, and those who did rarely returned unchanged.
Lyn sat shackled at the center of a circular ward. Runes burned faintly along the floor, tracing sigils meant to suppress a tamer's connection to their spirit. Every attempt to summon Umbra ended the same way—a flash of pain, a burst of static silence, and the void where the bond should be.
His crest still ached. Not from the binding, but from the wrongness of it—the phantom echo that mirrored Umbra's resonance like a reflection in poisoned water.
Arden paced outside the ward, his face pale with exhaustion. "You're lucky they didn't brand you outright. Council ordered a private review instead. Something about... inconsistency in the mimic readings."
Lyn raised his head. "They're afraid of what they saw. That crest wasn't a copy—it was alive."
Arden stopped. "Alive?"
"Whoever stole Umbra's signature isn't just imitating my mana flow. They've replicated the spirit bond itself." Lyn's gaze darkened. "That means Umbra's essence was breached. Part of it torn free."
The sound of footsteps interrupted them. Three figures entered—the adjudicator from the arena, flanked by two armored wardens. Her tone was sharp, professional. "Lyn of Division 7, you are to participate in a controlled verification duel. The Council demands proof of authenticity through combat resonance."
Arden's jaw tightened. "You can't test resonance through battle! His bond's unstable!"
"It's the only way," the adjudicator replied. "A true tamer's spirit cannot be faked once the blood oath is engaged. The imposter will reveal themselves through failure."
She turned to Lyn. "Do you accept?"
Lyn's answer was quiet, steady. "Yes."
The Unmarked Arena lay beneath the Council Hall, a forgotten coliseum once used for tamers who operated outside the Academy's authority. Its walls were etched with ancient binding sigils, the air thick with old mana and the ghosts of battles long past.
The stands were empty—save for the silhouettes of the Council watching from above, their faces hidden behind mirrored masks.
At the far end, Lyn's opponent stepped forward. The moment he saw them, his breath caught.
The tamer's build, posture, even the faint scar over his left brow—identical. But it was the crest on his arm that froze the air between them. Same pattern, same pulse, same black-silver hue.
His reflection smirked. "Lyn of Division 7," the echo said. "Or should I say... prototype?"
Arden, watching from the entryway, muttered, "What in the gods' name—"
Lyn didn't answer. His focus narrowed to a single point: the spirit emerging behind his double.
A shadow peeled itself from the stone, rising into the air. Horned, sleek, eyes burning with a violet flame—Umbra. Or rather, something that wore Umbra's form.
The Council's sigils flared to life, sealing the arena. A voice echoed from above. "Begin."
The ground trembled as twin shadows lunged at each other. Lyn's crest ignited, the runes around him fracturing under the surge. He drew on the remaining tether of his true bond, calling out:
"Umbra—awake!"
Dark light burst from his palm. The real Umbra's form flickered into existence, battered but defiant, wings of ink unfurling. The clash of twin spirits sent ripples of distortion through the arena, bending light itself.
The false Umbra struck first, its claws cutting through air like scythes. Lyn countered, meeting blow for blow. Every motion mirrored—every attack answered in perfect sync. It was like fighting his own memory.
"Who are you?" Lyn shouted, voice raw.
The reflection grinned. "I am what they made from you."
The words hit harder than the strike that followed. Their blades met—Lyn's forged of living shadow, his double's of crystallized mana. Sparks exploded as their power collided, tearing deep scars into the stone.
Umbra's voice echoed within Lyn's mind, strained but fierce. —This one carries my stolen fragment. If it remains, I cannot be whole.
Lyn parried a blow and forced space between them. "Then we take it back."
He pressed his palm to the ground, chanting an older invocation—one forbidden within Academy walls. The runes under his feet glowed blood-red, siphoning his life force into Umbra's core. His spirit roared, darkness coiling around them both like a hurricane.
The false tamer's eyes widened. "You'd destroy yourself for a shade?"
"For my bond," Lyn spat, "always."
Their powers collided once more—shadow devouring light, mana scorching through darkness. The arena shuddered, sigils bursting under the weight of raw resonance.
Then, silence.
Dust and energy hung in the air. As it cleared, the mirror figure staggered back, clutching his chest. His crest flickered violently before fracturing into shards of light.
Umbra hovered behind Lyn, weakened but whole again, her form wavering like smoke.
The adjudicator's voice broke through the silence. "The resonance is confirmed. Subject Lyn—authentic."
Lyn barely heard her. His double collapsed, the echo fading to ash. But before vanishing completely, it whispered:
"The Council… has more of us."
Umbra's voice trembled within the bond. —The chain runs deeper than we thought.
Lyn's eyes lifted toward the masked Council above. "Then we cut it."