The seed's glow flickered one last time, and then it dimmed, its warmth sinking into silence.
The whispers had quieted, but the silence that followed was worse. Heavy. Expectant.
Carlos raised his blade, scanning the shifting fields around them. The crystalline canopy above groaned, its branches bending unnaturally, glasslike leaves shivering with a discordant hum.
And then the ground split.
A jagged fissure tore open the lush grass, roots thrashing like serpents. From the crack oozed a thick, black resin that bubbled and pulsed as though alive. The smell of rot filled the air.
The resin hardened, twisted, and rose.
From it emerged shapes — twisted forms of flesh and shadow, grotesque parodies of the companions themselves.
The Shapes of Fear
The first to emerge was a colossal figure, armored in broken steel, its chest caved inward and its shield shattered — Thalor's guilt made flesh. Its hollow eyes glowed with blue fire as it dragged a jagged sword across the ground, sparks flying with each step.
Beside it, a specter with long hair and empty sockets drew a bow of bone. The arrows it conjured were made of fire, each one aimed squarely at Lys. The figure's cracked lips whispered over and over: "You missed. You failed. Again. Again."
Another emerged — slender, cloaked, blades dripping shadow. It was Rina's double, her movements sharper, crueler, mocking her every twitch. "Why stay with them?" it hissed. "You were born for the knife in the dark."
And last, from the heart of the fissure, rose a blazing figure wrapped in uncontrolled magic. Flames burst from one hand, ice from the other, lightning spiraling in a storm of chaos. Maren's reflection, wild-eyed, shrieked with laughter. "You are me! A storm that consumes everything!"
Carlos gripped the Blade of Ascension tighter, but even as he did, a dark figure began to take shape across from him.
His own shadow stepped forward — clad in the same armor, wielding the same sword. But its face twisted into a cruel smirk. "You'll sacrifice them all," it said in his voice. "Because you believe the burden is yours alone. And when you do, you'll finally be free."
The companions froze.
Each of them stared at their darker selves, horror etched into their faces.
The corruption had not only whispered their fears — it had given them form.
The Battle Begins
The ground trembled. The mirrored horrors struck.
Thalor's twisted double swung its jagged blade with monstrous force, sparks scattering as it met the knight's real shield. Thalor grunted, his arms straining. "It's… stronger than me!"
Lys loosed an arrow, but her shadow-self mirrored her movement perfectly, loosing one at the exact same time. The arrows collided midair, shattering into embers that scorched the grass.
Rina darted forward, blades flashing, but her shadow matched her every strike, each clash of daggers like fighting her own reflection. "Damn it," she hissed, frustration edging her movements.
Maren screamed as her doppelgänger unleashed a storm of wild magic. Fire and frost clashed against her wards, her staff vibrating violently as cracks spread through the wood. "I can't hold it!"
Carlos's dark self lunged, their blades locking in a blinding clash. Every move he made was mirrored, countered, anticipated. The shadow smirked, eyes gleaming with malice. "You can't fight me, Carlos. I am you."
Breaking Point
The battlefield was chaos. The companions fought desperately, but every strike, every arrow, every spell was met with an equal and opposite force.
It was like fighting a war against themselves.
Carlos's blade clashed again, sparks flying. His chest heaved. His dark twin pressed closer, whispering with every strike. "When the choice comes, you'll let them fall. You always knew it. You're already deciding who matters more."
"Shut up!" Carlos roared, slamming forward with all his strength.
Across the field, Lys's hands trembled as she aimed another arrow. Her dark self whispered with every shot: "Miss. Miss. Miss." Her knees buckled, and the arrow flew wide.
Thalor staggered as his corrupted twin knocked him to the ground, the jagged blade hovering above. "You can't protect them!" the monster snarled.
Rina bled from a shallow cut as her reflection's blade nicked her arm. "You want to be me," it hissed. "You've always wanted to be free of them."
Maren screamed as her magic spiraled out of control, torn between shielding herself and countering the overwhelming storm. Her corrupted double cackled: "You'll kill them all before the end!"
The Corruption's Grip
For a moment, it seemed they would all fall.
The whispers had weakened their spirits, and now the corrupted doubles pressed the advantage. Every doubt, every fear, every secret insecurity weighed down their strikes, slowed their feet, broke their focus.
The Verdant Expanse trembled. The fissure widened. More resin bubbled up, promising more horrors yet to come.
Carlos fell to one knee, his blade barely holding back his darker self. His companions were faltering. The corruption wasn't just attacking their bodies — it was eating their souls.
And for the first time since donning the Helm, Carlos felt true despair.