Villain's Last Chance

Cairon didn't wait for an answer. The moment the shade lifted its hand, he moved.

Light erupted from his sword as he swung, a golden arc cutting through the air toward the shadowed figure. The attack should have hit. Should have burned through whatever twisted magic held the shade together.

But instead—

The blade passed through her.

Like smoke, she twisted, her form bending and reforming as if the strike had never happened.

Marek cursed. "Oh, that's just unfair."

The shade—Elara—tilted her head. There was no expression on her face, just the weight of something ancient. As if she had been waiting for this. For me.

"You are not meant to be."

Her voice wasn't just sound—it was everywhere. A whisper inside my mind, inside my bones.

Cairon adjusted his stance, jaw tight. "Elara. We need a plan."

I swallowed hard, my pulse hammering. A plan. Right. Except nothing about this was normal.

I had seen her in the Codex. Felt her lingering in the ink. But here? Here, she was something more.

A memory given form. A warning made flesh.

And she wanted me gone.

She raised her hand again. This time, the shadows obeyed.

The entire chamber shook.

The monolith behind her splintered, golden script burning against the black stone. The air itself cracked, as if reality was coming apart at the seams.

Marek grabbed my arm. "Okay, I don't know what kind of ghost revenge story this is, but we need to move."

Cairon wasn't listening. His focus was still on the shade, golden eyes narrowing.

"She's not attacking," he said.

I blinked. He was right.

For all the power burning around her, she hadn't struck yet. She was waiting. Testing.

The realization hit me like a cold blade.

"This isn't just a fight," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "It's a choice."

Cairon's gaze snapped to me. "Explain."

I clenched my fists. "The monolith—this whole labyrinth—it's been leading us here. To her." I exhaled. "It's not just some random trial. It's a question."

Marek stared. "A question about what?"

I met the shade's empty gaze.

"Who I am."

A pause.

Cairon didn't react, but I saw the flicker of understanding in his eyes. He had always been quick to see through things.

Marek, on the other hand, groaned. "Oh, great. An identity crisis. Can we have it after we don't die?"

But I wasn't listening anymore.

Because the shade moved.

One step forward. Then another. The weight of her presence pressed against me, cold as the grave.

I couldn't run. Not this time.

I took a slow breath and stepped forward to meet her.

Cairon tensed. "Elara—"

"I have to do this."

He didn't stop me. But I could feel his gaze burning into my back, ready to act the second things turned.

The shade stopped an arm's length away. We stood like reflections in broken glass—one whole, one fractured.

Her voice curled through the air like ink in water.

"You are not me."

I swallowed. "No."

Her gaze didn't waver. "Then why do you exist?"

The words struck deep. Not because I didn't have an answer—because I didn't know if I did.

I had spent so long surviving, chasing the truth behind the Codex, escaping death at every turn. But now—

Now I was face-to-face with the real Elara. The girl who should have been here. The girl I had replaced.

What was I?

A mistake? A rewrite? A lie?

I gritted my teeth. No.

I had fought too hard, lost too much, to let someone else define me.

I lifted my chin. "I don't know why I exist." I exhaled. "But I'm here. And I won't waste that."

For the first time, something flickered in the shade's expression.

Not anger. Not hatred.

Something… close to acceptance.

The golden script on the monolith shifted.

And then—the shade reached out.

I froze.

Her fingers brushed my forehead—cold, like touching a winter breeze. And suddenly—

A vision.

Not like before. Not stolen memories or glimpses of the past.

This was something new.

I saw the Codex. But not as it was now—as it could be.

Pages unwritten. Power untouched.

A story waiting to be claimed.

And I knew, deep in my bones—this was the choice.

To let the past define me.

Or to write my own fate.

The vision shattered.

I gasped, staggering back. The shade's touch faded, her form flickering like a candle in the wind.

The monolith pulsed one last time.

And then—it cracked.

Golden light exploded through the chamber, burning through the walls, the ceiling, the very air itself.

Marek shouted. Cairon grabbed me, pulling me back as the entire room collapsed.

We ran.

The labyrinth was falling apart around us, corridors twisting, stone crumbling. The path we had taken before was gone, replaced by sheer darkness.

Only one way forward.

I didn't need to be told. I felt it.

The final trial wasn't behind us.

It was ahead.

The Codex was waiting.

And this time—I would be ready.