The Sanctuary of the Lost was no longer a place of peace. The floating orbs that once held memories of the past shattered as the dark figure stepped forward, its form shifting like liquid shadow. The air was thick with an unnatural pressure, pressing against Raine's chest like an unseen force.
Seraphis stood frozen, her silver eyes wide with something Raine had never seen in her before—fear.
"It's too soon," she whispered.
Sylara tightened her grip on her sword. "Who the hell is this?"
The figure tilted its head, its burning eyes locking onto Raine.
"You are not ready," it said, its voice layered—not one, but many voices speaking at once.
Raine's heart pounded. He had heard those words before.
From Varian.
From his past self.
Now, this thing was saying it too.
"What are you?" Raine demanded.
The figure stepped forward, and the shadows around it pulsed, spreading across the Sanctuary floor like ink bleeding into the world.
"I am the truth you refuse to see."
Raine clenched his fists, lightning sparking between his fingers. "Yeah? I'm getting real tired of cryptic answers."
The entity smiled. A twisted, knowing smile.
"Then let me show you."
It raised its hand—
And the world shattered.
The Nightmare Within
Raine was falling.
Not in the normal sense. Not in the way gravity worked. He was falling inward, spiraling through an abyss that felt too vast and too small all at once.
He hit the ground—or something like it.
The world around him had changed.
Gone was the Sanctuary.
Gone was the Rift.
Instead, he stood in a place that felt impossibly familiar.
A ruined throne room, its walls cracked and scorched by battle. The air smelled of smoke and blood, and the ground beneath him was littered with broken weapons.
He had been here before.
Not him, but the him from before.
"No…" he whispered.
And then—he saw it.
A figure sat on the throne, slumped forward, his armor dented, his sword resting across his lap.
The golden crest on his chest was identical to the one Raine had seen in the Echoes of the past.
Raine's breath caught.
It was him.
Not a memory.
Not an illusion.
It was the man he had once been.
And his past self lifted his head to look at him.
"You finally made it," he said, his voice tired, but sharp as a blade.
Raine took a step back. "No. No, this isn't real."
His past self stood, gripping his sword. "This is more real than anything you've ever known."
Raine's pulse thundered in his ears. "I don't want this. I don't want to be you."
The past Raine smirked. "You don't have a choice."
And then—he attacked.
Fighting the Ghost of Himself
Raine barely had time to react. His past self moved faster than anything he had ever faced, his blade cutting through the air with brutal precision.
Raine dodged, rolling across the broken stone floor as the blade sliced the space where he had just been standing.
"You hesitate," his past self said, advancing. "You always hesitate."
Raine gritted his teeth, electricity crackling through his veins. "Yeah? Let's see if I still do."
He lashed out, sending a bolt of lightning straight at his past self.
The past Raine didn't even flinch.
Instead, he raised his sword—and absorbed the energy.
Raine's stomach dropped.
His past self grinned.
"You think you're the first version of us to try that?"
He unleashed the stolen lightning, sending it surging back at Raine ten times stronger.
Raine barely had time to throw up a shield of energy before the attack hit, hurling him backward. He slammed into the base of the throne, pain shooting through his ribs.
His past self stalked forward, blade gleaming.
"You're weak," he said. "You always have been."
Raine pushed himself up, shaking his head. No. Not this time.
He would not lose to a ghost.
Not again.
Breaking the Chains
Raine took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a fraction of a second.
He wasn't the same person he had been.
And his past self—he was nothing more than a remnant. A mistake that needed to be left behind.
His fingers clenched, lightning surging not from panic, but from control.
His past self lunged—
And this time, Raine met him head-on.
Their swords clashed, but instead of getting pushed back, Raine held his ground. The moment the past Raine tried to absorb his power—
He let it go.
Not as an attack.
Not as raw energy.
He redirected it.
The past Raine's expression shifted from confidence to shock.
The lightning didn't obey him anymore.
Raine stepped forward, gripping his opponent's wrist. "You're not me."
The past Raine's eyes widened.
"You're just a shadow."
Then—he drove his blade straight through his past self's chest.
The figure staggered. His form flickered, his body dissolving into fragments of light.
The throne room around them began to fade.
The past Raine smiled faintly.
"Then don't make the same mistakes I did."
And with that—he was gone.
Returning to Reality
Raine gasped as he snapped back into the real world.
He was in the Sanctuary again, Sylara shaking him.
"Raine! Wake up!"
He blinked, his head pounding.
"What… happened?" he croaked.
Sylara exhaled in relief. "You collapsed the second that thing showed up."
Raine sat up, rubbing his face. "It showed me… a vision. Or a memory. I don't know."
Seraphis knelt beside him. "You have faced what lingers within you. And you survived."
Raine let out a breath, still processing everything.
The shadowy figure that had attacked them was gone. For now.
But he knew better than to think this was over.
Sylara offered him a hand. "Think you can stand?"
He took it. "Yeah."
She smirked. "Good. Because we're not done yet."
Raine nodded, clenching his fists.
She was right.
They had won this battle.
But the real war was still waiting.
And he would be ready.