The world screamed.
Elias barely had time to brace himself before the Dreamscape convulsed, warping and twisting like a living nightmare. The reflections of shattered realities spun around him—some showing futures he had yet to face, others displaying twisted echoes of what could have been.
His other self lunged, faster than before.
Elias barely dodged as a clawed hand—his own hand, yet not his own—slashed through the air. The space around them rippled, tearing open glimpses into alternate timelines. He caught fleeting images: himself drowning in endless darkness, another version of him kneeling in surrender, and worst of all—a future where he had become the very thing he fought against.
"You cannot win." The Fractured Elias grinned, his eyes glowing with an eerie, hollow light. "The Dreamscape does not suffer defiance."
A shockwave erupted between them. Elias was hurled backward, slamming into an invisible wall—no, not a wall, a barrier of his own fractured memories. It burned to the touch, searing his mind with every regret, every failure, every moment he had doubted himself.
The voices returned.
"Why do you keep fighting?"
"You are alone."
"You are already lost."
Elias gritted his teeth. The weight was crushing, pressing down on him like an endless ocean. His body trembled, his vision blurred.
Then—
"Elias."
A voice cut through the chaos. Soft, yet strong. Distant, yet unmistakable.
Lyra.
He forced himself to move. The darkness clawed at his limbs, but he pushed forward, summoning the last embers of his will.
"You are not alone."
His heart pounded as he raised his hand, fingers trembling but resolute. A faint glow sparked within his palm—small, weak, but real. A light that was his own.
The Fractured Elias snarled. "NO!"
He lunged again, this time with all the force of a collapsing reality. But Elias did not run.
He stood his ground.
And as their hands met in a final, explosive clash, the entire Dreamscape shattered.
A blinding white void swallowed them whole.
And then—silence.