As they stood victorious in the throne room, a weak laugh echoed through the room. The Dark Sorcerer, though defeated, had one last revelation to share.
"You think you've won, chosen one?" he rasped, his voice barely a whisper. "But don't you see? You and I... we are the same."
Benjo frowned, confusion clouding his face. "What are you talking about?"
The Sorcerer laughed again, a chilling sound. "You are me, and I am you. We are two sides of the same coin."
The room fell silent as the Sorcerer's words sank in. Benjo felt a chill run down his spine. Was he implying that they were the same person? That he, Benjo, was also the Dark Sorcerer?
He looked at Rico and Lyra, their faces reflecting his own shock and confusion. The victory they had just celebrated now felt hollow, tainted by this unsettling revelation.
But as he looked at the defeated Sorcerer, Benjo felt a sense of resolve. Whether they were the same or not, he had made his choice. He had chosen to protect, to fight for Lumina. He was not the Dark Sorcerer.
"We may be the same," Benjo said, his voice steady. "But I am not you. I will never be you."