Both men watched as the lanky individual stood between two, marble pillars, placing his free hand against his own chest, uttering that accursed word again–
"Replication."
Emerging from the pale man was a mass of darkness, molding itself into the very same shape of himself; the mystical substance didn't just mimic his shape, but morphed into his very appearance.
"That looks concerning," Damian said.
"Putting it lightly there," Finn replied.
Blade and all, with the very same stance, Raven stood side-by-side with a picture-perfect copy of himself.
"Doppelgänger," the original spoke with a sly smile, caressing the copy's cheek with his hand, showing all too much closeness.
The duplicated slayer spoke, holding the very same, eerie smirk, "I am no mere fake; as perfect as the original."
It was far too creepy for Finn, not liking the way both versions of Raven interacted with one another, though his own comfort was hardly a pressing issue. What was more urgent was that both renditions of the slayer raised their blades, with the original pointing at Damian and the copy setting its sights on Finn.
"Can you handle this?" Finn whispered to the warrior.
Damian nodded, "Can you?"
"We'll see," Finn replied with a quick exhale.
In unison with the very same form, Raven and his replicated self dashed towards the two men. At the same time, the wind shifted around both versions of the slayer, bringing a realization to Finn.
'Wait, even the replica can do that—?' He thought.
["Aero Bore"]
Both Raven and his copy suddenly burst forth with a shroud of wind swirling around them. The slayer-class skill was one Finn recognized; a propulsion of elemental air to create a boost of speed.
["Phantom Flow"]
Finn found himself having to lean back while sliding away, not relying on his reflexes but his foresight. As predicted, the blade of the replica passed right over his view.
It was only a passing glance, though he saw his companion wasn't so nimble, having to guard against the slash that came his way with his axe.
He couldn't afford to spare any attention to his friend, however, as he had to spin to the side using the slide of shadows beneath his boots as the false slayer's blade aimed for his flesh.
["Bestial Evisceration"]
The Doppelgänger's blade produced a three-fold slash, replicating the claws of an ethereal beast as crimson marks rent the wind. Finn used his slippery shadows to quickly bring his feet together, making himself as small as possible as he dodged between the tri-fold attack.
"Replicate," the Doppelgänger coldly said.
The blood in his veins ran cold as only for a split-second, Finn's mind predicted what was coming from that invocation–SQUELCH.
"Ngh!--"
Before he could so much as take another step, the slashes that had missed doubled; Finn felt one carve across his chest while another ripped into his shoulder. He stumbled back as blood spilled from his chest, leaving his shirt falling off his torso as it was left in tatters.
"Finn–!" Damian shouted from across the room, trying to run over before being intercepted by the version of the slayer he fought.
As he stood there with gashes left on his body, Finn could feel his own strength being sapped as blood oozed from his wounds. He stumbled a bit while just standing on his feet, finding the Doppelgänger smiling, seeming to enjoy the state he was left in.
'Shit…got me good. He can even replicate his own skills? That's unfair,' Finn thought.
Feeling pieces of his own skin hanging by a mere thread as he bled so abundantly like a skewered pomegranate, he looked down at his hands as his scarlet essence ran down his arms.
It was hard to move his left shoulder as it had been sliced into it, feeling the joints grind against each other; even breathing hurt as the gash on his chest slightly expanded each time he exhaled.
Another slash came before he could steady himself. The blade swept across his face, from his eyebrow and across his nose, nearly reaching his lip.
'I can't–' He thought.
By sheer instinct, he tried to close the distance, dashing into range, however–
He was too slow. The duplicated slayer sidestepped his dagger, responding by striking him in the side of the head with the bottom of his blade.
"Gah–"
An audible "crack" resounded through his ears after suffering the blunt blow from one much stronger than himself. It must've split his head open, seeing as he found his legs wobbling and his consciousness flickering right after.
It didn't seem that the Doppelgänger aimed to finish him with that one, instead toying with him as he collapsed to his knees.
["I don't want to die."]
That simple desire swirled in him, bringing to the surface a different side of himself; a primal instinct, like that of a cornered animal backed into a corner. In that moment, everything seemed to become clear; prior thoughts or beliefs didn't cloud his mind–what he needed to do became obvious.
That bestial instinct merged with a cold, calculating self; a unison of two sides of his mind to bring forth his will to live.
Blood trickled down his face as the warmth enveloped him; bleeding into his own eye, he saw red, he tasted it as it slid onto his lips.
"Three minutes have passed," Finn quietly remarked while knelt down.
"Excuse me?" The Doppelgänger asked with a raised eyebrow, not relinquishing his unmoving smile.
Through his vision obscured by blood, the young man looked at the pale copy as he twitched a single finger–
["Blink Slash"] [2:59]
A spray of black liquid released from the split throat of the Doppelgänger, only just then reacting to the instantaneous move. Finn was already on his feet, standing behind the duplicate figure.
"Ah…That's how it is," the Doppelgänger said calmly as the dark substance abundantly sprayed from its neck before dissolving into a tar-like substance.
Finn wiped the blood from his eyes, though it hardly seemed to clear his vision up but for a moment as he continued leaking from the gash on his face. He found that the original had left his friend on the ground in a pool of blood.
The slayer lifted his stained odachi with a grateful smile, "Good. I was hoping my Doppelgänger wouldn't finish you. I like to leave that pleasure for myself." Raven said.
An inexplicable calmness persisted within Finn, even in the egregious situation as his body was on the verge of shutting down and his friend laid on the ground with a mortal wound through his stomach.
Perhaps it was how much blood he had lost, inching closer to death itself as he experienced a warmth to comfort the inevitability, or something else flipped a switch in his mind.
Nonetheless, he knew what he had to do as the blood-drenched assassin raised his dagger–
'I need to kill him. That's just how it is–there's nothing wrong with that,' Finn resolved.
Raven held his sword-wielding hand up, "Replicate."
Once more, a duplication of the sable odachi was called upon as the slayer displayed his twin weapons with a gleeful expression.
"You're starting to understand it, aren't you?" Raven asked with his arms spread. "If you want to survive in this world, you can't just be unafraid to kill. Even if you're prepared to do so as a "final option", making it secondary, that's not enough."
The spiel of the man who took such joy in the act of hunting others did not sound deceitful; it came as the most truthful, heartfelt words out of his throat–the true conviction of the killer.
Raven locked his eyes on the bloodstained one with a smile, speaking to him soul-to-soul,
"Everyone is a liar. Everyone is out to get you. Nobody is to be trusted. So, strike first. Kill. That's your only option."
Though the words of the slayer hardly were taken with more than a grain of salt by the barely lucid assassin, they were followed accurately as Finn took the initiative, running straight towards the killer.
Raven welcomed the charge, readying his twin blades, "You get it!"
Unlistening as his ears rang, Finn took a note out of the fallen one he encountered earlier, swiping his hand forward in an unnatural act: the dagger he held was suddenly thrown straight towards the slayer.
It wasn't a skill that Finn possessed, only being put to use by improvisation. Though he aimed for the man's head, the unmastered technique still managed to catch Raven off-guard as the dagger struck him in the shoulder.
"What?--" Raven reacted, seeming more surprised than hurt. "You threw away your weapon. Perhaps your brain was rattled too hard earlier."
As the man paused for a moment, moving his hand towards the dagger that was stuck in his shoulder, Raven decided not to pull it out as the bloodied assassin was still charging straight at him.
'Has he lost it? What is he hoping to accomplish without his weapon?' The thought crossed Raven's mind.