The white letter split.
Not into symbols, not into fragments—but into something raw, something unshaped. A soundless vibration that pressed into my chest, burning hotter than fire, sharper than any blade. I understood it instantly, though no language could contain it.
It was not command.
It was not law.
It was absolute.
The meaning seared across my mind:
"Erase."
I staggered. My scar flared as if my hand had been plunged into molten metal. The word coiled in my veins, begging to be spoken, promising finality. Not just to the fragments. Not just to the other Kael. But to everything—the cycle, the city, even myself.
Across from me, the other Kael froze, his smile faltering. His dozens of glowing scars dimmed, as if they, too, recoiled from the presence of this word.
"You shouldn't have that," he hissed. His voice cracked with something I had never heard from him before. Fear. "That word doesn't belong to you. It doesn't belong to anyone."
The fragments shrieked, retreating, their shapes unraveling into formless black vapor. The hum fractured into discordant tones, the cycle itself groaning like a machine under impossible strain.
The word pulsed in my throat, begging release. If I spoke it, the duel would end. The cycle would end. Everything would end.
But my scar pulsed once, sharply, painfully, like a warning.
And a memory flashed—my mirror-double pressing the first letter into my hand, his eyes locked on mine:
"You're not running this time. You're waking up."
My breath hitched. Maybe the point wasn't to destroy. Maybe it was to choose differently.
The other Kael stepped forward, his fury bleeding into desperation. "Kael, listen to me. You don't understand what you're holding. If you speak that word, there will be no more cycles. No more chances. Nothing left. I've seen what happens. I've watched it end."
The fragments cowered behind him, trembling like animals before fire. The city bent further, sky cracking as colors bled out again into emptiness.
The word throbbed in me, louder than thought, louder than fear. My lips parted.
I had a choice:
Speak Erase, and end it all.
Or deny it, and risk the world tearing itself apart under the weight of the duel.
The hum quaked, waiting. The white letter flickered, ready to vanish the moment I decided.
And for the first time, I realized: this wasn't a test of power.
It was a test of will.