Yohwa began to see himself not in a mirror, but in stone.
On the sixth night, as the Soul Eclipse mist hung low over the valley. Yohwa sat before the blue stone that once awakened Rava. He didn't meditate. He simply stared. And from within the stone, a Shadow emerged. Not someone else's shadow. His own. But not the Yohwa of now. Not the Stone of Light. Not the guardian of resonance.
The shadow stood still, dressed in ordinary clothes, without armor, without a hammer. its eyes were empty, but not dark. it looked like a Yohwa who never chose the path of light. A Yohwa who never touched the sacred stone. A Yohwa who lived as the echo of possibility.
"I am the you that was never born," the shadow bayangan said. "I am the echo of the choice you didn't make."
Yohwa didn't reply. He simply stared. And in that gaze, he began to feel a fracture within himself. A fracture not of explain, but of question. Did I choose this path, or did this path choose me?
The shadow stepped forward. Eached step made the stones around them tremble.
Not from fear, From recognition. They recognition a version of Yohwa they never carved.
"The Soul Eclipse isn't about loss," the shadow said. " it's about possibilities that were never given space."
Rava emerged from the mist, standing beside Yohwa. "You must speak to him," she said. "if not, he will become an echo that keeps disrupting resonance."
Yohwa closed his eyes. He tried to dive into his own memory. He saw his childhood, the fisrt time he saw hte sacred stone. He saw the night he chose to become a Satria. But he also saw Other nights nights when he almost gave up, nights when he wanted to run, nights when he questioned whether light was truly worth fighting for,
The shadow smiled. " I didn't come to replace you. I came to be achknowledged."
Yohwa opened his eyes, He stepped forward, standing before the shadow. "You are the that never happened. But you are still part of me."
The earth trembled. The stones began to glow. But this time, The colors weren't just gold and blue. There was soft gray a color that didn't dazzle, but soothed. A color from memories that never became reality, but still lived.
Numa documented the change. "We're beginning to carve possibility," he said.
"No just history."
in the village, children began drawing two version of yohwa one with armor, one without. They didn't know why. But they felt both mattered.
The Soul Eclipse didn't stop. But it began to shift. it no longer absorbed, it began to reflect.
And whithin teh blue stone, the echo of the Yohwa who never was began to merge with resonance. Not as a distrubance, But as a layer.