"To recognize who you are, sometimes you must face who you almost became."
Our steps halted in front of a vast stone plain, stretching under the shroud of night. The ruins of ancient pillars stood jagged and uneven, forming silhouettes like broken hands reaching for the sky. Dust and small fragments floated in the chilly breeze, filling the air with the scent of wet stone and something older... heavier.
I felt my heartbeat slow, as if this place was draining time itself.
"This place... feels heavy," I murmured, almost as if afraid to disrupt the suffocating silence.
Elvira nodded slowly beside me. Her blonde hair fluttered gently with the wind.
"As if... something still lingers here," she said, her eyes scanning every corner cautiously.
Behind us, Luelle stood silently. She seemed strange today—her gaze empty, distant, as if seeing something only she could perceive. Slowly, she stepped closer to the main altar, her hand trembling as she touched the weathered stone carvings.
For a moment, I thought I heard whispers—like the murmurs of hundreds of tongues slipping through the cracks of the ruins.
Then, the wind stopped.
The air froze.
The world held its breath.
Right in the center of the altar, a dark red light began to glow. It pulsed, its rhythm like the heartbeat of a dying giant. From that light, black smoke swirled, forming a vortex, and from that vortex... emerged a figure.
Tall. Clad in jet-black armor. Its eyes, two crimson embers burning in the darkness. But that wasn't what made me freeze. It was the face—a fractured mirror image of my own.
Black hair. Dark gray eyes. The structure of the face was familiar, yet cloaked in an aura of weight... danger.
"You..." I whispered, my throat dry.
The shadow stared back unblinking.
"Minato Ascheveil," its voice echoed in the still air. "The third vessel of Archa Tempest."
Elvira took half a step back, her instincts clearly warning her that this was far more than a mere illusion.
"He... is no ordinary human," she whispered in horror.
The figure did not move aggressively. He just stood there, holding a massive black sword that burned in his right hand, like a chunk of midnight capable of cleaving the world.
"I am the remnant soul of the previous wielder," he said. "The one who failed. The one devoured by this magic because he couldn't tell the difference between resolve and vengeance."
I swallowed hard. His words cut deeper than any blade.
The shadow stepped forward. Each step made the ground tremble lightly, yet strangely… there was no threat. Only a heavy presence that enveloped everything.
"You want to burn the world because of your pain? Because of your loss?" he asked, his voice rough like stones grinding against each other.
I gripped the hilt of my sword, feeling the pulse of energy beneath my skin.
"I want to erase injustice," I replied, my voice firm. "Even if it means destroying the world that birthed it."
The shadow smiled faintly. A smile full of pity... or perhaps understanding.
"You sound like me... before I fell," he said. "But hear this, Minato: Archa Tempest does not acknowledge those who only have anger. It only bows to those who remain sane amidst hell."
Each word felt like a nail hammered into my soul.
Suddenly, the world spun. I felt like I was falling—not physically, but mentally.
I was dragged into the vortex of my own mind.
The world around me turned gray and bloody.
I saw my own reflection... killing mercilessly. Burning villages.
I saw Elvira lying still, unmoving. I saw Luelle screaming, her body engulfed in flames.
And I... was laughing.
A laugh that sickened me. A laugh that was not mine, yet came from my own face.
"Enough...!"
I screamed, shaking the illusionary world. My magic erupted, shattering the shadow into thousands of fragments of light.
My body trembled. But my heart stood firm.
"I won't become you," I said, my voice shaking with emotion. "And I won't let this power consume anyone else!"
When I opened my eyes, I was back at the altar. The shadow now stood far above on a cracked stone pillar, his body beginning to dissolve into dust and light.
"Perhaps... you are different," he said, his voice now calmer.
For a moment, he looked at me, as if trying to confirm something.
"But remember this, Minato Ascheveil—the world has never made room for those who carry fire too close to destiny."
With those words, he vanished. Only the hollow whisper of wind remained.
My body felt heavy. I fell to my knees, gasping for breath as if I had just returned from a battlefield.
Elvira rushed towards me, catching my body before I completely collapsed.
Luelle approached quietly, watching me with an expression I couldn't quite understand.
Her lips moved, forming simple words—yet full of meaning.
"You… stay true to yourself."
I closed my eyes and nodded slowly.
It didn't matter what the world thought.
It didn't matter what this altar reminded me of.
I wasn't anyone's shadow.
I was the ember that would choose its own path.
Minato survived the trial of the soul and grasped his new resolve. However, the echo of Archa Tempest's former wielder still lingered. In a world that shrinks under the weight of injustice, can Minato keep his soul intact as the world begins to see him as a threat?