Even at just nineteen, Zydan's days were a relentless cycle of tasks and responsibilities. His round face, framed by a thick mane of dark, curly hair, was perpetually set in a serious expression as he tackled each item on his to-do list with grim determination. Despite the jibes about his weight that followed him through the school halls, Zydan brushed them off. He knew people depended on him, and that was what fueled his unwavering resolve. With each step, he moved with a quiet, determined grace, his eyes locked on the path ahead, refusing to let anything—or anyone—stand in his way.
"Uncle Zy!" Finn's voice pierced through the background noise as Zydan reached the elementary wing. The seven-year-old dashed toward him, his grin wide and his backpack bouncing chaotically on his small frame.
"Hey, kiddo," Zydan greeted, a rare smile breaking through his focused demeanor as he ruffled his nephew's hair. "Ready to go?"
Finn nodded with unbridled enthusiasm, and the two set off toward the exit, Zydan engaging him in a conversation about his day. But as they walked, Zydan felt a creeping unease settle over him, a prickling sensation that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It was as if an invisible force was watching him, following his every move. He glanced around, scanning the area, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Dismissing it as stress, he tried to shake off the feeling, but it clung to him like a shadow.
Above them, hidden from sight, the Ego hovered with silent intensity. It had detected Zydan's life force—a faint echo of the energy it once knew, an energy eerily similar to its master's. The resemblance was enough to draw the Ego to this place, to this boy. Yet something was different. This boy held no magic, no power coursing through him like its master had. Still, the familiarity was undeniable, and the Ego couldn't ignore it. It decided to follow Zydan, observing him silently from above, its white, spherical form pulsing with an ominous glow.
The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully. Zydan dropped Finn off at home and made his way to work, but the sensation of being watched never left him. At the convenience store, where he worked a quiet shift behind the counter, he couldn't help but glance over his shoulder every few minutes, his unease growing with each passing hour. By the time his shift ended, his nerves were frayed, and he was more than ready to unwind on the bus ride home.
Zydan found an empty seat and settled in, eagerly pulling out his Holophone. The sleek eyewear fit snugly on his face, projecting a holographic display that transformed his field of vision into a private movie theater. He scrolled through his options and selected a psychological thriller about doppelgangers. As the movie played, he became absorbed in the twisted narrative, his tension mirroring the mounting paranoia on screen. The feeling of being hunted, of being watched—it was all too familiar.
Glancing around the bus, Zydan saw only the usual passengers, each engrossed in their own worlds. But the sense of unease gnawed at him, refusing to let go. When the bus finally reached his stop, he stepped off, trying to shake off the lingering dread that clung to him like a second skin.
The night air was cool and crisp, each breath sharp against his skin as he made his way toward his apartment. The streetlights flickered, casting long, distorted shadows that seemed to slither across the pavement, following his every step. His shortcut through a narrow, dimly lit alley felt like a walk into the unknown. The path was familiar, one he took every night without a second thought, but tonight it felt different—hostile, even.
As Zydan moved deeper into the alley, the sensation of being watched intensified, coiling around his chest like a vise. His heart pounded in his ears, his thoughts a chaotic whirl of the movie's haunting scenes and his own inexplicable fear. He forced himself to keep walking, to push through the irrational dread, but then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it—a figure emerging from the shadows.
Zydan froze, his breath seizing in his throat. The figure was humanoid, eerily similar in shape and size to himself, but its form was vague, shifting, almost translucent. It glowed wihth an unnatural light, an energy that sent shivers down his spine. The familiarity of it all was a dagger to his senses—too close, too wrong.
"A d-doppelganger!" The words escaped his lips in a terrified whisper, his voice trembling with the weight of his fear. His mind raced, trying to make sense of the impossible sight before him. He had no magic, no defenses—nothing to protect himself from this nightmare made flesh.
Panic surged through him, primal and unrelenting. With a choked scream, Zydan turned on his heels and bolted, his feet pounding against the pavement as he tore out of the alley, driven by pure, unbridled terror. He didn't dare look back, the only thought in his mind to reach the safety of his apartment.
The building loomed ahead, a beacon of salvation in the darkness. Zydan pushed himself harder, his lungs burning, his legs screaming in protest. He fumbled with his keys, shaking hands barely managing to unlock the door before he stumbled inside and slammed it shut behind him. Collapsing onto his bed, his body convulsed with fear, sweat dripping down his face as his mind struggled to catch up with the horror he had just witnessed.
The white figure, the doppelganger—it had been so real, so tangible. But could it truly be real? Zydan's mind spun with the possibilities, none of them comforting. His body trembled uncontrollably, exhaustion and confusion pulling him into a fitful sleep. One thought lingered as he drifted off—a chilling certainty that whatever he had seen, it was not just a figment of his imagination.
Outside, the Ego hovered near the window, its glowing form pulsating with an unsettling rhythm as it watched over the boy who had reminded it so much of its master. It hadn't intended to frighten him, but now it couldn't leave. There was something about this boy, something vital, and the Ego was determined to uncover it—no matter what it took.
---
The next morning, Zydan shot up in bed, gasping for air as he frantically scanned the dark room. His heart pounded like a drum, sweat beading on his forehead. The images from the previous night's terrifying encounter flooded his mind—the white figure, the fear, the frantic sprint through the alley. It had felt too real to be a dream.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he forced himself out of bed and into the shower. The warm water cascaded over him, soothing his frayed nerves, but doing little to wash away the lingering unease that clung to him like a shadow.
After his shower, Zydan stood before the bathroom mirror, wiping away the steam to reveal his reflection. His eyes widened in shock as he noticed something hovering behind him—his beloved round white plushie, its innocent smile a stark contrast to the fear gnawing at his insides.
He blinked, convinced he was still caught in the remnants of a nightmare. But the plushie remained, hovering just behind his shoulder like a ghostly sentinel. As he stared at the reflection, its smile seemed to widen, its button eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint.
Tentatively, Zydan reached out a trembling hand, half-expecting his fingers to pass through the apparition. But when they made contact, the plushie felt warm, almost alive, a faint energy humming beneath the soft fabric. A sense of calm washed over him, momentarily easing his fear.
With a surge of bravery, Zydan turned to confront the plushie directly. As he did so, the toy glimmered with a gentle, radiant light that began to illuminate the room. The Ego emerged from within the plushie, taking on a more tangible form before merging into Zydan's subconscious.
The surroundings twisted and distorted, morphing into a surreal dreamscape filled with swirling colors and shapes. Zydan felt himself being drawn deeper into a realm that lay somewhere between reality and imagination.
He found himself standing in an opulent hall made of glistening crystal, with surfaces that reflected rainbows of light dancing across the walls. The air was thick with a melodic hum, a blend of voices merging into a singular, ethereal chorus. As a figure approached from the far end of the hall, its presence was overwhelming, radiating power and ancient wisdom.
As the figure came closer, Zydan recognized it as an embodiment of his own Ego—a being of pure energy, its eyes reflecting the weight of countless lifetimes. The Ego communicated without words, its voice resonating deep within Zydan's soul. "But why do you look like me?" Zydan wondered, puzzled by the familiar visage before him. It seemed his non-magical mind was merely allowing him to perceive something he could understand.
|"You, Zydan Kael Zirius, have been selected,"| the Ego's voice echoed, each word a ripple of mechanical vibrations in the air.
"Selected for what?" Zydan murmured, his voice barely a whisper in the vast, luminous chamber.
The Ego's form flickered, its colors shifting systematically with each phrase.
|"You have been chosen to unravel the enigmas within you,"| the Ego continued, its tone devoid of emotion yet carrying an undeniable authority.
|"To traverse the dimensions of imagination and reality, to bridge the gap between known knowledge and the undiscovered."|
|"Chosen to wield a power beyond imagination," the Ego intoned solemnly. "To become theguardian of realms unseen, the protector of cosmic balance."|
As the Ego spoke, the crystal hall around them transformed, revealing glimpses of distant worlds and fantastical creatures. Shimmering portals opened, offering tantalizing views of alien landscapes bathed in the light of twin suns. Ethereal beings of pure energy danced through nebulae, their forms leaving trails of stardust in their wake.
Zydan's eyes widened in awe, his mind reeling from the breathtaking sights. He saw himself wielding unimaginable power, bending reality to his will. But a far more pressing question occurred to him.
"Will it make me rich?" Zydan blurted out.
The Ego's form flickered, its ethereal light dimming slightly. |"Chosen to be the bearer of ancient power," it intoned, "to protect the realms from encroaching darkness, to—"|
"Yeah, yeah," Zydan interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. "But will it make me rich? I'm talking stacks of cash, mansions, maybe my own private jet?" His eyes gleamed with unrestrained greed, a stark contrast to the mystical surroundings.
The Ego's luminous form pulsed with confusion, its swirling colors momentarily losing their harmony. |"Wealth?"| it echoed, its voice tinged with bewilderment.
Zydan's eyes gleamed with ambition, the fear of the previous night forgotten in the face of potential riches. "Wealth, fame, power," he mused, his voice taking on a dreamy quality as he recalled a line from an old anime. His gaze sharpened, locking onto the Ego with newfound intensity. "I want it all."
The Ego pulsed with a subtle, almost imperceptible concern. Its once confident voice now carried a note of hesitation. |"Your destiny is to protect, to maintain balance—"|
"Balance, schmalance your face!" Zydan scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Look, I've got bills to pay, tuition fees, and a whole life ahead of me. If I'm going to be some chosen one, I might as well get something out of it, right?"
The Ego's form flickered erratically, its colors shifting rapidly in distress. This was not how it was supposed to go. The chosen ones before had always embraced their destiny with reverence and sacrifice. But this boy...
|"Very well,"| the Ego finally said, its voice tinged with resignation. |"While wealth is not the primary purpose of your calling, it can be... a byproduct of your endeavors. But be warned, Zydan Kael Zirius, power comes with great responsibility."|
Zydan's face lit up with a mischievous grin. "Now we're talking! So, when do I start? Is there some kind of magical ATM I can access? Or maybe a genie I can summon?"
The Ego's form shimmered with a hint of exasperation. |"It is not that simple, young one. Your powers will grow gradually, as you learn to harness the energy within you. But remember, with great power comes great—"|
"Yeah, yeah, great responsibility," Zydan interrupted again, waving his hand. "I've seen the movies. So, what's first? Saving the world? Fighting evil? Do I get a cool superhero costume?"
The Ego's light dimmed slightly, its tone turning stern. |"Your first challenge is to solve puzzles. The key to your power lies in understanding."|
"Huh?!" For the first time, Zydan was truly dumbfounded.