Yan Zhi staggered through the suffocating fog, every breath slicing his chest like broken glass. The inner realm of the Veil pulsed around him, beating like a giant heart on the edge of collapse. Before him stood his shadow—his own fractured reflection—splintering like a mirror struck from within.
But those cracks were not mere weakness. From the fissures seeped whispers, venomous and relentless:
"You are nothing but a fraud… You live on another's legacy… A coward pretending to be sovereign of the shadows."
He closed his eyes. The words stabbed deep, dragging back the memories he had buried—the humiliation, the betrayals, the abandonment. Yet now he understood: this shadow was not an enemy. It was the part of him that had never healed.
"If you are me," Yan Zhi rasped, "then I will not erase you. You are part of this journey. But I will not let you chain me anymore."
The shadow grinned, a smile fractured into near-madness, almost like it was weeping. The cracks widened, half its face collapsing into a hollow void swirling with endless night. From that void, black hands clawed outward, dragging at Yan Zhi's soul.
The air thickened. The ground trembled, as if the arena itself was about to shatter. Yan Zhi felt himself being pulled in two directions—toward surrender and oblivion, or toward endurance and breakthrough.
And then he remembered—his master's words:
"Shadows are not meant to be cast aside, but carried. You are sovereign only when you can stand with your darkness."
With what strength remained, Yan Zhi opened his eyes. From within his Shadow Vein, a muted light emerged—not the brilliance of denial, but the quiet radiance of acceptance. He stepped forward, even as the void tore at him, and placed his hand upon the fractured shadow.
"Endure with me," he whispered. "If I fall, you fall. If I rise, you breathe."
The shadow stilled. The cracks deepened at first, but then began to knit together, glowing faintly with the same muted light flowing through Yan Zhi's veins. The voices shrieked one last time before dissolving into silence, like a storm losing its rage.
For a moment, they stood face to face. Not whole, not broken—merely enduring.
A shadow shattered, but unyielding.
And in that moment, the Veil itself roared, acknowledging his step forward.
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