The world fractured softly as the brothers stepped through Selin's water ring. There was no sound, no sensation of falling or landing—only the stillness of endless reflection.
Water stretched in every direction, forming a surface that was floor, sky, and horizon all at once. When they moved, ripples echoed beneath invisible feet. Their reflections followed perfectly until, with the next step, those reflections did not repeat their movements.
Dylan froze. "Kev…"
Kevin turned, watching his mirrored self smile back—not with warmth, but pity.
"Reality doesn't function here," Selin's voice whispered, though she was nowhere to be seen. "Here, truth wears whatever face your heart denies. You will not fight me—you'll fight the pieces you left behind."
Her words dissolved into ripples, and the reflections began to move on their own.
Dylan's Illusion – The Speed of Emptiness
Lightning flickered. Dylan found himself alone. The infinite water now stretched into a shallow plain beneath a bruised sky. Every step he took became slower, the world heavier. When he tried to summon speed, his Ryuma trembled—resisting.
A voice, nearly his own, echoed beside him.
"You run because stopping makes you see the void."
His reflection stood only a few feet away, poised in identical stance. "You act like motion makes purpose. But every flash fades."
"I don't fear slowing down," Dylan said, but the words came out hollow.
His other self smiled faintly, eyes bright as lightning. "You fear being seen standing still—because you wouldn't know who you are without movement."
The storm above brightened, revealing dozens of Dylans running outward, each vanishing into the distance like sparks dying in rain.
Thunder cracked. Dylan clenched his fists. "Then let me stand for real this time."
He drew his lightning inward, suppressing every urge to move, until stillness replaced chaos. The reflections shattered like glass under pressure.
The world stilled, and a faint warmth pulsed through his mark—a heartbeat that was his own.
Kris's Illusion – The Weight of Expectation
Elsewhere, Kris's world shrank to stone walls and ceilingless towers rising into clouds. Every step he took added weight to the ground until the walls cracked beneath him. His touch turned foundation into rubble.
A familiar voice echoed from farther up the column. "You've always measured worth by strength. But strength breaks whatever holds it too tightly."
His reflection stood above him, larger than life, eyes glowing with magma. "You want to protect—but what happens when protection becomes domination?"
Kris set his jaw. "You think I want control?"
"You want certainty," the other said, stepping closer. "If you cannot guard what you love, you'll bind it. Stone doesn't fail because it's weak—it fails because it forgets to bend."
The reflection reached forward, pressing his hand against Kris's chest. His ribs felt heavy, rigid, unbreathing.
Pain tore through him as he knelt, forcing air into lungs that refused to move. With effort, he whispered, "Then I'll learn to yield before I break."
The air loosened. The reflections vanished into dust.
Kevin's Illusion – The Shadow of Control
For Kevin, the world turned into twilight. The water mirrored thousands of stars above an invisible ocean, each reflection rippling as if laughing in silence.
Then came the voice—his own, steady, distant.
"You think shadows keep others safe because they're yours to command. Do you even understand what they are?"
His reflection emerged from below, layered in darker gray, eyes like smoke.
Kevin tried to cast his Ryuma, but the darkness wouldn't follow. It stayed with the other version of him, gathering strength.
"I protect them," he said quietly.
"You hide them."
The other Kevin stepped forward, face unreadable. "Every time you lead, you build a wall of silence. You don't speak fear—you translate it into orders. You act brave because you think leadership means isolation."
Kevin's throat tightened. "If I stay open, I falter."
The reflection shook its head. "Unity isn't obedience—it's trust. Shadows don't only conceal. They connect what light cannot reach."
The false Kevin dissolved, blending into his real shadow that stretched far and merged with Kris and Dylan's reflections in the distance.
For the first time, Kevin felt his darkness lighten—not vanish, but harmonize.
Reunion
The illusions dissolved together. The brothers found themselves standing within one single reflection again, the surface now calm and silver. Above, three faint moons pulsed in unison—their marks glowing gold at the edges.
Selin appeared above the horizon, walking over the still surface. Her expression was softer, but her voice carried weight.
"You faced yourselves, and the water does not deny you. But reflection is not surrender—it is remembrance."
She lifted her hand, and droplets rose from the surface around them, forming three distinct orbs. Within each shimmered faint currents representing fragmentary symbols—flame, stone, storm. They drifted toward the brothers and sank into their chests, merging with the already‑burning marks.
"Consider this the blessing of reflection," Selin said. "Yet know that balance does not forgive ignorance. Every realm you touch teaches you truth, but every truth makes you more visible to the eyes beyond."
The infinite water started trembling; waves formed upward, mirroring storm clouds.
Kevin asked, "You mean Ryuzen."
Selin nodded. "He watches now, through me and beyond me. And when the next realm opens, he will not send peace."
The surface beneath them cracked—silver splitting into radiating light.
"Go," she whispered. "Your father waits."
The Return
The mirror world shattered in one silent motion.
Rain crashed down upon Kyomisu again as the brothers emerged, kneeling against the soaked courtyard stone. Their marks glowed faint blue that turned slowly to calm silver before fading.
Saya dropped to her knees beside them, relief breaking through her usual composure. "What happened in there?"
Kevin stood shakily, shaking droplets from his hair. "We saw too much—and not enough."
Kelivin approached slowly, the water retreating from where his feet touched. "Every mirror leaves a reflection behind."
As he looked upward, the rain began to freeze mid‑air again, forming a single symbol of water that hovered for several breaths before melting.
"The realms acknowledge them one by one," he murmured. "And soon, they'll all listen."