The colosseum felt unusually cold that morning—quiet, heavy, as if the massive stones themselves expected blood. The winners of the last match, ten heirs stood across the arena floor, spaced like pieces set for a divine judgment. Verik bounced on the balls of his feet. Selin folded her arms with bored confidence. Mirea trembled, yet held her ground. Damon stood calm, hands in his pockets, Daichi resting loyally at his side.
A sharp, electric hum hit the air.
Blue fire spiraled upward at the center of the arena and burst open like a theatrical curtain. Zaro Kinddell spun out of it, his immaculate afro shimmering under the arena lights, his cape flaring dramatically. He adjusted the mic, his grin blazing with the confidence of a showman born for the colosseums.
"WOOOOOEWYNNN—are you ready for TRAUMAAAAA!?"
The crowd roared.
Zaro strutted across the arena. "Look at them! Ten heirs, ten bundles of nerves wearing swag like cheap perfume! Verik acting like he's already won—precious. Selin pretending she's not terrified—adorable. Mirea trying not to faint, someone bring that girl some juice! And Damon Vale—our prince—standing there like emotion is a myth!"
The laughter rolled through the stands. Zaro snapped his cape and pointed sharply at the heirs.
"Let me explain today's entertainment—The Mirrors of the Eternal One." The arena fell silent. "Rule One: Inside the Mirror, you will forget this is a trial. Everything will feel real." A ripple of unease swept through the group. "Rule Two: Your power will be cut to half its true output. No exceptions. Not even for pretty faces." Verik's grin tightened.
"And Rule Three," Zaro announced, gesturing grandly. "There are no rules—except one. To win the Mirror, you must kill yourselves." He paused for the dramatic effect, then quickly clarified: "Not physically, relax! You must destroy the part of yourselves unworthy of representing Woewyn. Pride. Cowardice. Rage. Whatever your rot is."
Behind him, a towering monolith pulsed, dividing into ten glowing vertical slits.
"Step in," Zaro said, his voice dropping to a soft command. "Face the version of yourselves you've spent your whole lives running from. Oh yeah we will also be able to see what's going on in there...No pressure."
One by one, the heirs approached. Mirea swallowed hard, clenched her fists, and whispered to herself, "I will not lose." Damon noticed the small shift in her posture and gave her a small, nod of approval.
Damon turned toward the Mirror and froze. Something tugged faintly at the edge of his consciousness—warm, familiar, and soft. Natsuki. He couldn't see her as usual, but he felt her—a blurred presence in the atmosphere, a pulse of fear, a whisper that wasn't sound.
"Come back."
His eyes softened. "Always," he murmured.
Zaro waved impatiently. "Prince Vale! Inside! Stop being romantically mysterious!"
The connection flickered again and then abruptly snapped. Daichi's ears flattened, sensing the sudden emptiness. Damon didn't blink. He simply stepped into the Mirror.
Light swallowed him whole. Everything outside was instantly erased.
Damon jolted awake, standing. The world was white. Endless. Cold. No sky, no ground, no scent—just a blank universe stretching forever.
"Where am I?" His voice echoed strangely, answering him a moment too late.
"Finally, you've come to see me."
Footsteps approached, followed by a voice—his voice, but smoother, calm, but kinda in the way a storm's eye is calm.
"Joy." A golden ripple crossed the plane. "Peace." The air tightened. "Happiness." The white world vibrated, cracking like thin ice.
A figure emerged: Damon's exact body, his face, but the eyes were molten gold and slightly darker red, stripped of warmth, stripped of humanity.
Mirror-Damon smiled softly. "All your inner cravings… the ones you bury for the sake of peace… I feel them freely."
Damon narrowed his eyes. "What are you—"
"Natsuki," Mirror-Damon interrupted, the name delivered like a physical blow.
A pulse of warmth exploded in Damon's skull. Her voice. Her laugh. Her bracelet. Her sleeping face. Her insults. Her trust. Her heartbeat. All of it poured into him at once, an overwhelming flow of memories.
He buckled, clutching his head.
Mirror-Damon crouched with serene cruelty. "She balances your chaos… keeps your power stable. Without her? You are a broken pillar pretending to hold the sky."
Damon gasped for breath.
Mirror-Damon continued, his voice gentle like a knife laid against a throat. "You remember the memory drink you gave her father? He felt a fragment of this pain. You caused that. Even your kindness hurts the ones you love."
The pain ceased instantly. Damon lay panting, sweat trembling on his forehead. He looked up. "What's your point?"
The plane turned red—thick, wet. Damon sank immediately, tasting iron. Endless blood dragged him down. Mirror-Damon walked on the surface effortlessly, his steps sending ripples.
"You cling to feelings," he said, "like a drowning man clings to debris." He grabbed Damon's wrist, lifted him slightly, and hurled him deeper. "You refuse to let go of the weight. So you sink."
The blood filled Damon's lungs. Darkness.
Damon jolted awake, coughing violently, tasting ash not blood. He was inside a tall glass chamber. He hit the wall with his palm—and froze.
Natsuki was in the opposite glass chamber, terrified, her hands pressed to the glass. "D-Damon—what's happening?!"
Water surged into her chamber.
"No—no no no—" Damon slammed his fists against the wall. His knuckles split instantly. He scanned the room—a red button glowed.
PRESS IF YOU CHOOSE YOUR WEAKNESS
He didn't hesitate. He hit it.
Natsuki's water drained instantly. His chamber filled faster than he could breathe. Cold water rose to his neck.
Natsuki coughed. "You idiot… You're going to die first." But she was safe. That was enough. He let the water take him.
As darkness closed, a voice razor-thin whispered: "Weakling."
The water drained from Damon's chamber and surged into Natsuki's. Then into a dozen others. Daichi. Richard. Daiki. Cythera. His mother. Nyra. Every loved one. Every bond. All drowning. All screaming for him.
"No—NO—STOP—!" Damon punched the glass, fracturing bone. "PLEASE STOP!"
They drowned. And so did he.
He was kneeling in a street in Japan—smoke, fire, buildings collapsing. Mirror-Damon walked through falling debris as if strolling through a quiet garden.
"This is your first home," he said. "Let me show you how fragile it really is."
Light burst from his palm. Mirror-Damon shot seven beams. All hit Damon. "Shit… I'm too slow," Damon thought. The eighth pierced his side and threw him through a shattered bus stop.
Mirror-Damon barely raised his voice. "A collar. That's what love is. Half your strength evaporates the moment she cries." A skyscraper melted under a beam of gold. "I'm going to erase Japan. I'm going to erase your home."
"No," Damon thought in fear. He ran with all his Woewyner speed. Through smoke. Through the flame. Tracing the map he once studied with Natsuki, remembering stupid test prompts and inside jokes. "C'mon remember! Where is this?" He saw a small, muted sign: Kyoto. He dashed in the opposite direction.
He reached her house and burst through the window. "NATSUKI—!"
She turned, smiling sweetly. "Hey… you okay?"
Damon grabbed her shoulders. "He's coming! We need to leave—now—!"
Her expression warped into something sharp and eerie. "You can't stop him, Damon. Even at full power. You're weak."
The building exploded. Damon held her tight, running through collapsing streets. "You should drop me," she said, her voice dripping poison. "The light is following me."
He didn't respond. Tears streamed down his face.
She scoffed. "Your compassion always kills me."
A wave of black-edged light swept over them.
Japan vanished. The world was red and black, the heat of fire boiling the ground he grazed his face on. Natsuki turned to ash in his arms.
He fell to his knees, choking. "Please—please—take me instead—please—"
Mirror-Damon grabbed his face and smashed it into the ground. "You're crying like a pet abandoned by its master."
Damon coughed blood. Mirror-Damon's voice rose. "Look at yourself. Your emotion is a leash. Your heart is a cage!" A kick sent Damon flying through a car. Another blow cracked his ribs.
He pushed himself up, shaking. "You're wrong," he rasped. "My emotions aren't chains."
Mirror-Damon scoffed. "Then what are they?"
Damon spat blood. "They're cost. The risk. The thing that makes the power worth having." The red world twisted. "They're the reason I fight. Without something to lose… there's nothing worth protecting."
Mirror-Damon paused, a tiny, stunned inhale.
"You think emptiness is freedom?" Damon continued, his voice growing steadier. "You're just starving." Long, hollow grass sprouted—thin, brittle, dying instantly. "That's you. Tall. Impressive. But hollow."
Mirror-Damon's jaw clenched.
"Love gives me something you'll never have," Damon said.
Mirror-Damon whispered, "And what's that?"
"A reason."
The world cracked.
Mirror-Damon unleashed his final attack, golden light swallowing everything. Damon didn't flinch.
"Pain doesn't stop me. It reminds me I'm alive. My strength doesn't come from killing what I care for. It comes from choosing it—again and again—even when it scares me. Even when it breaks me."
The light froze mid-air. Mirror-Damon exhaled softly. The rage drained from his form.
"…So be it."
He dissolved and entered Damon.
Light filled Damon's body, but this time, it didn't hurt. It was a deep, steady strength, like the foundation of a mountain.
Blink.
The sun was far above the colosseum again. He was lying on the arena floor, breathing evenly. No pain. No wounds. No emptiness.
The fragments of Natsuki's bracelet glowed, slowly pulling themselves together in threads of living light.
Damon whispered, "I'm still yours, Natsuki."
He rose—slow, steady—not looking at the crowd, not looking at the sky. He looked only at the bracelet on his wrist, now whole again, glowing with a quiet gold.
Then he lifted his fist.
The arena erupted. His opponents, who had surrendered earlier, applauded. And in a voice that wasn't loud, but somehow carried to every corner—
"Love is my power."
The reaction wasn't just sound. It was emotion. Some cheered. Some cried. Some dropped to their knees.
Because they didn't just see Damon beat a monster. They saw a boy reject godhood—and choose love instead.