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Tension on the Battlefield
The two armies stood across from each other, divided by a field of wind-swept grass. On one side, the Hero's legion—shining armor, divine magic, trained knights. On the other, Serian's rebellion—scrappy, determined, young… and unpredictable.
Serian stepped forward.
So did the Hero clone.
Their eyes met.
> "I didn't think I'd meet myself like this," the Hero said.
> "You're not me," Serian replied calmly. "You're what they made you to be."
The Hero hesitated. His grip on his sword tightened.
> "And you… what are you?"
> "The part they tried to erase."
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The First Strike
A tense silence.
Then one of the Hero's soldiers—a righteous zealot—charged.
> "For the kingdom!"
But before the blade could land, a shadow blurred past.
Lira.
She moved like lightning, slicing the attacker down with elegance and brutality.
> "Touch him again," she said, licking blood off her fingers, "and I'll peel the skin off your soul."
The Hero's team flinched. Even the Hero himself looked shaken.
> "She's dangerous," he whispered.
---
A Duel of Souls
Serian raised his hand.
> "This doesn't need to be war."
> "Then surrender," the Hero replied.
> "That's not what I meant."
Their swords clashed.
Steel screamed against steel.
Each strike was mirrored—same technique, same training… but the intent was different.
The Hero fought to protect a lie.
Serian fought to uncover the truth.
Each blow was a question, each block a denial.
Until—
> CLANG!
Serian's blade shattered the Hero's guard, slicing a shallow cut across his cheek.
Blood dripped.
> "I hesitated," the Hero whispered.
> "I didn't," Serian replied.
---
Aftermath
The battle didn't erupt—yet.
The Hero clone retreated, shaken. His soldiers followed.
Lira approached Serian, smirking.
> "You going to kill him next time?"
> "Not yet."
> "Why?"
> "Because if I kill him now… I kill a part of myself too."
He turned back toward the forest, cloak flowing behind him like a storm.
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