Two suns hung above in the sky that burned like a sea of flames, with crimson clouds stretching endlessly into the horizon. The vast ocean below was calm, its surface clear and red, reflecting the crimson that was far out of reach above.
From its surface rose swords, hundreds, perhaps thousands, each one driven deep into the water like a marker. Some stood tall and proud, gleaming faintly in the fiery light, while others leaned wearily, their edges dulled by time and battle. Together, they created a forest of steel, a graveyard for blades with lost owners.
In the centre of it all, was Sylas. He was sitting right below the two suns with his eyes closed. Exhaling heavily, he opened them, and then looked around in confusion.
"Where is he...?"
Quickly noticing a shadow blot out the sun above him, he rolled ahead in a panic, while hearing something thud where he just sat. The moment he regained his bearings, the first thing he saw was a right hook being sent flying straight towards his face.
As if by instinct, his left hand reached out and caught it with ease, as he then pulled it away and threw his own punch. The opposing figure, also caught on eerily quickly, as he pushed the punch aside with the back of his hand.
Not letting that stop him, Sylas with his hand still gripping tightly around the opponents, pulled on it as he dragged him closer towards him, while also leaning forwards.
Tilting his head down slightly, the centre of the attackers face collided against Sylas's cranium. A small popping sound could be heard, followed by crimson blood trickling into the air.
He yelped.
Taking advantage of the stunned opponent, Sylas tackled him to the ground. Then raising his arm into the air, he called forth one of the few sparks of light revolving around the glowing star above.
It would've taken much more time to summon a memory in the outside world, but here in his Soul sea, the memory revealed itself almost instantly.
Transforming into a blade, it landed swiftly in the palm of Sylas's hand, as he then thrusted the blade deep into the lake, cutting just a millimetre into the attackers neck.
Screaming at him with a familiar voice, the attacker shouted,
"You have some nerve, coming back here!"
And shouting at him too,
"I have some nerve?? This place is mine to begin with!"
Feeling the sharp sword subtly biting into his neck, the attacker smirked with insolence. Sylas reached out to strangle him by the neck, but it was too late.
One second he was glaring at the attackers familiar face, the next he was staring up at the sky, with no part of his body rooted to the ground. Flailing around helplessly, he could only brace himself as he fell through the air, before colliding against the crimson oceans floor.
Quickly rolling back to his feet, Sylas glared up at the attacker. His familiar dark hair, like the mane of horse that stalked the night, framed his bloodied face in sharp locks that fell carelessly yet with an almost deliberate elegance. His cold, jet black eyes, and his piercing gaze carried the weight of a quiet menace but also confusion.
Everything about him was familiar, from the way fury burned behind his eyes subtly, to even the way he fought. Of course they were familiar to him. How could he not recognise himself?
'Except he isn't me, I'm standing right here in my Soul Sea.'
Sylas calmed his voice, raising an open hand, signalling that he was peaceful. The doppelganger still hostile, asked in a antagonizing tone,
"What do you want."
Gulping down his humility, he asked,
"I need your help."
The look on the doppelgangers face changed. Although already apparent, his rage flared first—raw and hot, with his nails biting into the palms of his hand, lightly cutting his skin. But just as suddenly, the fire faltered. Confusion seeped in, cool and disorienting, and then, without warning, he broke into hysterical laughter, until it filled the air with a sound that was equal parts release and madness.
"Ha... so you take my body.. live out my life... imprison me here and then have the nerve to ask me for my help??"
Biting down on his lip, Sylas pleaded,
"Please... If we don't get out of here, the both of us.. and.. our friends will die."
His out of tone breathing suddenly became even.
"Do you think that death is worse then being forced to watch someone pretend to be you?? When all I can do is agonize at the fact that all my 'friends' don't even know that I'm a prisoner in my own body, and that the one person I care about out of all of them, sees me as a monster, do you think death scares me??"
In hindsight, it was a little rude asking for his help out of the blue.
'Touche, I really thought he'd help if I just asked...'
"There's no reasoning with you, is there? Do you even remember anything about yourself before you awakened?"
"Of course I do?! I remmber—"
But when he tried to think about his past life as a mundane, the memories never came. It was like he was lost in the dark, reaching out for something that wasn't there.
"Why? Why can't I remember anything?? Why!? What did you do to me!"
He couldn't make sense of it.
"I'm real! I'm real!? You... YOU'RE JUST AN IMPOSTER!"
The doppelganger disappeared, leaving behind but a blur, but unlike before, Sylas had seen it coming. Thanks to his keen insight granted by his Aspect, as well as past conflicts with this entity, he had learned that the movements it could make were restricted somehow, whenever it used its power.
But in order to take advantage of that weakness, he needed an absurd amount of concentration, as the opening was less than 1/10th of a second.
Sharpening his mind, time thinned, stretched, and then dissolved. The present, and the future folded into one vast stream, as every single cell in his body consciously and unconsciously took in as much information as they could.
Right now, he was at the very centre of the world. Everything revolved around him, and thus, he could feel everything as well. Even the most subtle breeze in the wind.
Then acting on all that information, his right leg moved forward as he kicked into the air. There was nothing there at first, but as it reach its climax, it slammed into the doppelgangers waist, sending him fumbling back.
It looked shocked. He hadn't been able to keep up with him before, nothing could. So what changed so suddenly?
'He predicted where I would go?'
Sylas smirked.
'I've gained something unexpected.'
But his mood immediately soured as he looked at the pitiful copy of him. Seeing him struggle for a life that wasn't his own, was rather pathetic.
Sylas did not know what this doppelganger was. It was not his flaw, neither was it a result of his aspect or an attribute. From the day he awakened and became a Sleeper, the doppelganger had just been there, haunting his soul sea and constantly whispering in the back of his mind.
If he could kill him, he would, he had tried several times already, as every night he closed his eyes, he found himself fighting against this creep for control of his own body. But every single time, he managed to win and assert dominance.
He was able to quickly grow as a fighter as a result, but it was starting to become a hassle.
But when he tried to finish him off for good, he suddenly found himself unable too. It was a peculiar feeling that he couldn't describe.
Either way, he found his presence here to be a drag.
'Made himself so comfortable that his Soul Core even ended up here..'
Anyhow, both of their strengths were situational. Although, Sylas was stronger over all, there were particular strengths that this doppelganger excelled at, which Sylas himself needed if he wanted to get everyone out alive.
'There is also that... but I really didn't want to use it. It's looking like I have no choice though.'
Sylas looked up at the sky in deep thought. Contemplating what he should do next. Ultimately though, there was only one thing left to do.
"Yeah, I'm not wasting my time here anymore. Talking to you wasn't a pleasure."
His skin suddenly seemed thinner, as though the glow of the world behind him pressed faintly through. Veins softened into pale rivers of shadow, and his bones gleamed faintly like ivory wrapped in mist. His body was slowly disintegrating.
Quickly catching on, the doppelganger screamed as he made one final charge towards him,
"Don't run from me! Don't run you coward!"
But when he tackled right into him, his body slipped straight through, as if he were nothing but a ghost. Eventually, even that pale projection completely disappeared.
He dropped to his knees, fists slamming against the solid water. The scream that followed wasn't just rage, it was exhaustion, humiliation, the crushing weight of every failure pressing down at once. His voice cracked under the strain, splintering into something almost animal, a cry that carried both fury at the world and fury at himself.
"How much longer!? How much longer must I keep living like this!?"
Unable to hold back the pressure any longer, tears slipped silently down his cheeks, unbidden, carving thin, glistening paths across his skin.
"..please.. someone just kill me."