The moment Elias saw it—
He broke.
The image of himself sitting on that throne burned into his fading vision. That twisted smile. That calm, cruel confidence. It wasn't fear that finally took him.
It was emptiness.
His heart slowed…
then stopped.
Everything went numb.
No pain.
No sound.
No feeling.
It felt like sinking into deep water, where even thoughts could not survive.
So this is death, he thought dimly.
Darkness wrapped around him completely. There was no body anymore. No breath. No blood. Only silence—thick and endless.
Then—
A voice.
Soft.
Very soft.
"Wake up, boy…"
Elias didn't react.
The voice felt far away, like it came from another world. Another place beyond everything. He thought this must be the afterlife—some cruel illusion the mind shows before disappearing forever.
But then—
"Wake up!!!"
The voice was louder now.
Sharper.
Commanding.
Elias's mind trembled. Something inside him resisted the darkness. He tried to open his eyes—but they felt impossibly heavy.
Slowly… painfully…
His eyelids lifted.
The first thing he saw—
Was himself.
Still sitting on the throne.
The room was the same—endless mirrors, dark reflections stretching into infinity. The throne stood at the center, tall and black, pulsing faintly with shadow. And on it—
That version of him sat relaxed.
Smiling.
A smile that did not belong to a human.
Elias's vision was blurry, shaking. His thoughts felt scattered, weak.
This must be a nightmare, he thought.
A horror dream before death.
He had heard stories. People seeing strange things in their final moments. Monsters. Memories. Fears twisted into visions.
This is just that, he told himself desperately.
Just my mind breaking…
But the blur slowly faded.
The room became clear.
Too clear.
The mirrors reflected light perfectly. The throne's surface glimmered with dark patterns. The figure sitting there didn't fade or distort.
It stayed.
Breathing.
Watching.
Smiling wider.
Elias's chest tightened—even though his heart had already stopped. A deep, instinctive fear crawled through him.
This isn't a dream.
The realization hit him like ice.
That thing sitting on the throne—it wasn't an illusion.
It was real.
And it was him.
But not him.
The smile on the throne was cold. Evil. Confident. Eyes filled with something ancient and merciless.
Elias tried to move.
He couldn't.
Tried to scream—
No sound came out.
The darkness around him pulsed softly, as if the room itself was alive, waiting.
The figure on the throne leaned forward slightly, resting his chin on his hand, amused.
And Elias understood, with terrifying clarity—
He wasn't dead.
Not yet.
Elias stared at the figure on the throne.
No matter how much he tried to deny it, no matter how hard his mind fought back—
He was looking at himself.
Same face.
Same eyes.
But everything else felt wrong.
This version of him radiated something dark. Heavy. Deadly. The air around the throne felt thicker, colder, as if it rejected light itself. Elias's chest tightened with fear he had never known before.
"H-How…?" His voice trembled, barely more than a breath. "How is this possible…?"
The figure on the throne smiled wider.
"Are you shocked?" he asked calmly, almost amused.
That voice.
It echoed inside Elias's head the same way it always had.
Elias's hands shook. His thoughts raced, colliding with panic and disbelief.
"Who are you?" he asked, forcing the words out. "Are you… are you the one who's been inside my head this whole time?"
The darker Elias chuckled softly.
"You are pretty smart, boy," he said. "That makes this more disappointing."
His smile sharpened.
"Sadly… you are going to die now."
The words hit Elias like a blade.
So this really is the end, he thought.
Why am I seeing this in my last moment?
Fear wrapped around his heart. His body felt numb again, weak and fading, like life itself was slipping through his fingers.
Then—
The one on the throne leaned forward slightly.
"But," he said casually, "you can live."
Elias froze.
His breath caught.
"If you really want to."
Hope—small, fragile, desperate—sparked inside him.
"W-Why…?" Elias whispered, his voice breaking. "Why are you doing this to me? Why did you kill those innocent guards?"
The smile vanished.
The darker Elias lifted a finger to his lips.
"Shhhhhh," he said softly. "Don't speak too much."
His eyes glinted.
"Who knows," he added lightly, "which might be your last words?"
He leaned back again, relaxed, confident, untouchable.
"Tell me," he said with a smile. "Do you want to live?"
Elias's whole body trembled.
"Or not?"
The mirrors seemed to close in around them.
"Think carefully before you speak," the dark one continued. "Because that answer might decide everything."
Elias felt himself slipping. Fear. Cold. Emptiness. His existence felt thin, fragile, like it could vanish at any second.
With what little strength he had left, he whispered—
"I… I don't want to die like this."
The smile returned.
Snap.
The sound echoed like thunder.
BOOOOOOM—!!
Flames erupted around Elias.
Fire swallowed his body completely.
Elias screamed—expecting pain, agony, death—
But none came.
Instead—
Warmth.
Strength.
The pain he had been carrying vanished. The burning wounds disappeared. His weakness faded. The fire didn't destroy him—it rebuilt him.
The flames died out.
Elias gasped.
He looked down at himself.
No wounds.
No blood.
And—
His hand.
The one he had lost—
It was back.
Perfect. Whole. Real.
Elias's eyes widened in pure shock.
"This… this isn't possible…" he whispered.
Across from him, the dark Elias watched silently.
Smiling.
The smile on the dark Elias slowly faded.
His eyes locked onto Elias's.
Cold.
Bottomless.
Inhuman.
Before Elias could take a step back—
The dark Elias raised a single finger.
The air shifted.
Elias felt his body lift off the ground as if an invisible hand had grabbed him. His feet left the floor, his heart pounding wildly as he was pulled forward, closer to the throne.
"N-No—!" Elias gasped, trying to move, trying to struggle.
Nothing worked.
His body refused to obey him.
"So…" the dark Elias said calmly, his voice echoing through the endless mirrors. "You don't want to die… Elias?"
The way he said his name sent a chill through Elias's spine.
Their faces were close now.
Too close.
The dark Elias stared straight into his eyes, his gaze piercing, as if it could see every fear, every memory, every weakness buried inside him.
Elias tried to look away.
He really tried.
But his head wouldn't turn.
His eyes were locked in place, forced to meet that terrifying stare.
"What do you want from me?!" Elias shouted, panic flooding his voice. "Why are you doing this?!"
His words echoed wildly through the chamber, bouncing off the mirrors like trapped screams.
The dark Elias suddenly laughed.
Loud.
Twisted.
The sound filled the room, shaking the reflections, warping them until the mirrors themselves seemed to tremble.
"What do I want?" he repeated between laughs.
He laughed again, harder this time, then—
Suddenly stopped.
Silence slammed down.
The smile vanished.
His face grew serious.
Terrifyingly serious.
"I want…" he said slowly.
The air grew heavy.
"…this whole world."
Elias's eyes widened.
"The… whole world?" he whispered. "What do you mean…?"
The dark Elias leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"Shhhhhh."
A thin smile returned.
"You will know," he said softly, "when the right time comes."
With a flick of his finger—
Elias was thrown backward.
His body slammed onto the cold floor, breath knocked from his lungs as the mirrors flashed with distorted reflections of his fall.
Above him, the dark Elias sat back on the throne.
Watching.
Waiting.
And Elias knew—
This was only the beginning.
******