The crack down the warrior's chest spread with a deafening snap.
From it emerged another form—identical in shape, but with eyes burning gold instead of red.
One stepped forward with murderous intent, the other with an almost pleading gaze.
Elara's heart raced. They circled her like predators, their mirrored footsteps echoing against the chamber walls.
Then they struck—together.
Steel and glass clashed in a storm of sound, sparks scattering like meteors. Elara blocked a downward slash from the red-eyed one, only to feel the golden-eyed one's blade slice the air just inches from her side.
Every move was a test—strength against will, speed against clarity.
The red-eyed warrior fought with raw fury, each strike heavy enough to break bone.
The golden-eyed warrior's attacks were precise, calculated… almost guiding her rather than killing her.
Her muscles burned. Her breaths came sharp and fast.
Then, in a blur, both blades came down toward her at once.
Instinct took over—Elara crossed her dagger with both hands, bracing for the impact. The force sent her to one knee, pain screaming through her arms.
In the black sheen of the red-eyed blade, she saw every failure she had ever feared.
In the gold reflection, she saw every hope she dared not believe in.
The Keeper's voice echoed in her mind, low and steady:
> "To pass… you must choose. Destroy one, and the other will live within you forever."
Her grip trembled. If she struck down the red-eyed warrior, she would kill her rage—but also her will to fight.
If she destroyed the golden-eyed warrior, she would lose her hope—but keep her strength.
The two warriors raised their blades for the final blow.
Elara's eyes narrowed. She exhaled once… and made her move.