The shadow creature towered over them, five twisted faces shifting in the gloom — each a grotesque echo of the heroes themselves. The fortress floor quaked beneath its weight, black glass splintering into webs of cracks that glowed faintly with crimson light.
Carlos raised the Blade of Ascension, but the weapon felt different here — heavier, slower, as though the shadows themselves sought to drag it down. His own reflection's molten eyes gleamed with scorn.
"You think this blade makes you strong?" the voice taunted, ringing in his skull. "You're a child with a toy. You'll fail them. You'll fail yourself."
Carlos gritted his teeth. "I've failed before," he admitted. "But I get up again."
The reflection lunged. Its blade was blackened steel, jagged, seething with corruption. When their swords met, sparks flew like stars torn from the heavens.
To the side, Lys engaged her doppelgänger — an archer cloaked in blood and ash. Each arrow the reflection loosed screamed through the air like a curse, shattering stone where they struck.
"You let your sister die!" it roared, loosing three arrows at once.
Lys rolled, breath ragged, drawing her own bow. Her eyes narrowed, and with trembling fingers she nocked a single arrow. She whispered, "I let her go… but I won't let anyone else fall."
She fired. Her arrow split through the others midair, a streak of silver light piercing her reflection's chest. It dissolved into smoke, howling.
Rina's battle was different — faster, deadlier. Her reflection circled her like a wolf, blades flashing in perfect mimicry of her own movements.
"They'll never trust you," it sneered. "You'll betray them. You always do."
Steel clashed as dagger met dagger, sparks showering their feet. Rina snarled, her arms aching as she blocked a flurry of strikes.
"Maybe I'm a liar," she spat, twisting to drive her blade into the shadow's ribs, "but this time… I'm lying to the dark."
The reflection's grin faltered — and with a final thrust, she drove her second dagger through its throat. Black ichor splashed, then vanished into nothing.
Thalor's reflection hit harder than any beast he had ever faced. Each blow of its shield was thunder, each strike of its sword a quake.
"You should have died with them!" it bellowed, voice shaking the hall.
Thalor staggered to one knee, his shield splintering under the relentless assault. He could feel his brothers' faces pressing at the edges of his memory, accusing, mourning.
"No," he growled, forcing himself to his feet. His battered shield fell away, useless. He gripped his sword with both hands. "I live for them."
He swung with a roar. His blade cleaved the shadow's chest, splitting it from shoulder to waist. The reflection shrieked once, then shattered into a thousand shards of light.
Maren's trial was the most terrifying. Her reflection towered over her, a storm given form, its staff cracking with raw lightning.
"You can't contain me," it thundered. "You'll destroy them all. That is your fate."
The floor erupted as bolts of white fire struck around her. Maren screamed, barely raising her hands to summon a shield. Sparks tore at her arms, searing her skin.
Carlos saw her faltering. "Maren!" he cried, trying to reach her — but the hydra's central body blocked his way, claws striking like serpents.
Maren fell to her knees. Her reflection loomed, staff raised for a final strike.
"No," she whispered. Her hands trembled, then steadied. She gripped her real staff, slamming it against the ground. "I am destruction. But I choose where the fire falls."
Flames roared outward, pure and brilliant, devouring the shadow. It writhed, shrieking, before collapsing into a heap of cinders that vanished into the black glass floor.
One by one, the reflections were destroyed.
The hydra's body convulsed, shrinking, writhing. Its five twisted faces wailed in unison, collapsing back into the mirror-like floor. The cracks sealed, the crimson glow fading.
Silence fell again.
Carlos, Lys, Rina, Thalor, and Maren stood in the wreckage of the great hall, bruised, bloodied, and breathless.
Then the Helm's voice filled the chamber once more, deeper and colder than before:
"You have faced yourselves. But remember this: reflections return. What you are cannot be slain. Only embraced."
The fortress groaned, stone trembling. A staircase spiraled open in the floor, descending into a darkness that pulsed like a living wound.
Carlos met the others' eyes. None of them spoke. None needed to.
They descended.
For below the Fortress of Forgotten Truths, something far worse awaited.