Space trembled around Auren, like a living thing gasping for breath. The battlefield drifted in weightless shards of a shattered moon, surrounded by dying stars blinking like wounded eyes.

  He stood still, Oblivion humming softly, dripping echoes of death into the void. The one before him looked like him—moved like him—yet reeked of something foul and broken.

  "Bleed for me, brother," the being had said.

  Auren’s voice was cold. "You are not my brother."

  The figure smirked, his crimson veins pulsing with corrupted energy. "No. But I was made to be. Molded from your wrath. Shaped in your shadow. They hoped I’d become more than you…"

  "Then die in it."

  The words sparked the first blow. Null Fang clashed against Oblivion—black against black, chaos against absolute destruction. The impact ruptured nearby space, birthing small novas that screamed before collapsing.

  They moved faster than thought. Each strike came with weight — galaxies trembled, meteor belts burst apart like sand. Auren countered with elegant brutality, Oblivion drawn in wide arcs, always one step from ending it.

  But Raelux didn’t fall. He laughed through blood, leaking fragments of cracked light from his joints.

  "I have your strength… your fury…"

  Auren’s eyes narrowed. "But not my will."

  Raelux lunged. His arm distorted, twisting into a blade of flesh and metal. It struck Auren across the chest — but didn’t pierce.

  Instead, it screamed. A wail echoed from the false blade, vibrating across reality.

  Raelux fell to one knee, twitching. "Why… does it HURT to exist!?"

  Auren walked forward slowly. No rush. No fear. Oblivion dragged behind him, searing a line through floating debris.

  "Because you were never meant to."

  Raelux choked on his breath, his body cracking apart, light pouring from his mouth, his eyes.

  "They said I could be real! They PROMISED! They—"

  "You were born to bleed for me."

  With one final motion, Auren raised Oblivion and brought it down — not in fury, but in judgment. The blade cleaved through Raelux.

  There was no scream.

  Only silence.

  Raelux shattered, not erased, but broken into a million fragments of frozen memory — suspended in space like a mournful sculpture.

  Then… a voice. Deep, ancient, condescending.

  "Very good, Auren. One down. Six more to come. Each closer to the key. Each closer to… your truth."

  Auren’s head tilted upward. The stars above dimmed as if kneeling to h

  is gaze.

  "Then send the next."

  And space obeyed.

  The space around them cracked like shattered glass. Stars twisted unnaturally, bending light where there should be none. Mira gripped the side of the ship as pressure swelled in the vacuum around them.

  Out in the silence of the void, AUREN faced the being who had just whispered:

  > “Bleed for me… brother.”

  AUREN’s pupils shrank. That voice—it wasn't just taunting. It carried a fragment of memory he never lived… but one that echoed in his soul. For a moment, the warrior stood frozen. The battlefield faded, and all he could hear was that line.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  > “Where… where did you hear those words?” AUREN’s voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

  The figure tilted its head. Half of his face was etched with divine symbols gone wrong, as if divinity itself had tried to shape him and failed. The markings pulsed in deep red, matching the warping energy of his core.

  > “I was made in your shadow. Forged in agony. Shaped to be you… but better,” he said, his voice distorting with every word, shifting from rage to sadness. “But they failed. They always fail.”

  His gaze darkened, and he stepped forward.

  > “They called me Raelux. I was their answer to your rebellion. Their puppet. Their mistake.”

  AUREN’s fists clenched. “You're not my brother.”

  Raelux let out a broken laugh, but there was pain in it.

  > “No… But I remember things I shouldn’t. I remember your screams. I remember the seal. I remember the chains that tore into us both.”

  He walked in slow steps across the floating fragments of a crumbled asteroid, his voice gaining weight with each syllable.

  > “You owe this universe more than blood, AUREN. You owe it dues—debts that cannot be paid. And if by some miracle, you defeat me… the rest will come for you. One by one, they’ll carve their vengeance into your soul.”

  He stopped a breath away, staring straight into AUREN’s soul.

  > “And maybe—just maybe—if you survive them all, you’ll break the seal... and we can all be free.”

  Suddenly, Raelux twitched. His right hand convulsed. His voice shifted:

  > “I… don’t want to—”

  ERROR – voice distortion

  “He is not ready…”

  ERROR – recalibrating…

  Raelux slammed his own head with a savage crack. Blood trickled down his face, but he stood still again, voice cold.

  > “Ignore that. Defect protocol activated. Doesn’t matter.”

  Then came the shift.

  The space around them fractured like a mirror. Dead stars in the distance pulsed alive again. Gravity spiraled out of control as even the ship Mira stood on began shaking violently.

  > “This fight is breaking the laws of everything,” she whispered, watching the impossible unfold.

  AUREN finally raised his head, eyes burning like suns.

  > “Then let it all break.”

  With a war cry, he lunged forward—and Raelux met him with the fury of a thousand buried screams.

  The walls of the ship trembled as shockwaves pulsed from the clash of Auren and Raelux. Sparks danced like fireflies in the artificial twilight, casting flickering shadows across the corridor. Auren stood his ground, chest heaving, eyes locked on the twisted reflection before him—Raelux, a warped echo of himself.

  “Do you bleed, brother?” Raelux growled, his voice laced with static, broken yet burdened with hatred. “Or did the architects forget that detail when they made you forget us all?”

  “I’m not your brother,” Auren said, voice low and steady. “You’re a mistake.”

  Raelux tilted his head. “A mistake?” His grin was wide and vicious. “Then let me show you how perfect a mistake can be.”

  They collided.

  Fists met metal. Blades of energy hissed and cracked. Each blow could fell a tank, yet they matched, wound for wound, rage for rage. The corridor around them split, exposing them to the stars beyond. Air was no longer necessary. This was not a fight for breath—it was a fight for identity.

  Meanwhile, deep in the ship’s bowels, Mira, Kade, Xel, and Lassie raced through failing systems and crumbling walls. Warning sirens screamed, red lights strobing as the ship’s core destabilized.

  “This place is gonna blow!” Kade yelled, dodging a falling beam.

  Mira pushed forward. “We have to find the others—find the control room—anything that gives us a chance!”

  But then, a strange pulse rocked the floor. Time froze for a heartbeat.

  Lassie had stopped. Her gaze was distant, like she was listening to something no one else could hear.

  “Lassie?” Xel asked.

  She whispered, “I can feel it. I can touch the core. I can—rewrite it.”

  “What are you talking about!?” Mira said.

  But Lassie didn’t answer. She dashed ahead, faster than any of them had ever seen. She leapt into a maintenance shaft that had opened during the quake, disappearing from sight.

  Moments later, the entire ship hummed. Not cracked. Not screamed. But hummed—as if something ancient had awoken.

  Back at the battlefield, Auren was on one knee. His lip bled, arm shaking, suit damaged.

  Raelux towered above him, eyes glowing. “You always were weak, Auren. That’s why they locked us in. That’s why they’ll never let you be free.”

  “I’m… not you,” Auren rasped.

  “I am what they created from you!” Raelux snapped. “The pain. The fury. The betrayal. I am the seal, and if you destroy me, you’ll face the rest.”

  Auren slowly stood, eyes blazing. “Then I’ll tear through all of you. One by one.”

  They clashed again—but just as Raelux aimed his final strike, a scream echoed across the ship.

  Raelux paused. The ship shifted again.

  Then... Lassie emerged from a collapsing corridor. But something had changed. Her body was glowing faintly. Her eyes flickered like stars.

  “I talked to the ship,” she whispered. “And I made it remember who it was.”

  The ship roared, stabilizing around her.

  Raelux turned. “What have you done!?”

  Lassie smiled, gently. “Reset the board.”

  With a flash of light, gravity returned, systems rebooted, and the energy Raelux had been drawing from flickered… then vanished.

  Auren didn’t waste the moment. He lunged.

  A clean, devastating punch sent Raelux flying into a reinforced wall. The fake Auren crumpled to the ground, twitching.

  He looked up with flickering eyes. “This… isn’t over…”

  “No,” Auren said, standing over him. “It’s just begun.”

  Raelux vanished in a pulse of corrupted light, leaving only silence behind.

  As the crew reunited, Mira stared at Lassie. “What did you do?”

  Lassie just said, “I became the anomaly they never calculated.”

  The ship, now quiet and intact, began shifting its trajectory. On the screen before them, coordinates appeared—coordinates leading to the source of the seal, to the truth behind the prison Auren had escaped from.

  He clenched his fists. “We follow it.”

  And as the stars passed by the window, the next war stirred in the deep beyond.