Hiro stood still for a moment, his mind still processing the intense battle he had just finished with his shadow. His body ached, but he knew there was no time to rest. Something else was waiting for him in this strange inner world—a power that he had to confront.
As he walked deeper into the endless void, a sudden chill washed over him. The air became thick with mana, so powerful and overwhelming that it felt like the ground beneath his feet was trembling. Hiro's heart raced as he sensed a presence up ahead—something dark, something terrifying.
With each step, the presence grew stronger, until finally, he reached a clearing in the void. There, standing before him, was a figure made entirely of swirling, glowing mana. It was humanoid in shape, but its form constantly shifted, like a flame flickering in the wind.
Hiro narrowed his eyes, gripping his sword tightly. He could feel the immense power radiating from the being, power that made his own strength seem insignificant in comparison.
"Who… are you?" Hiro called out, his voice steady but cautious.
The mana figure turned its head towards him, its glowing eyes piercing through the darkness. It said nothing for a moment, but the air around it seemed to hum with energy.
"I am your power," the figure finally spoke, its voice deep and echoing, as though it came from every direction at once.
Hiro blinked in confusion. "My… power?"
Before he could say anything else, the mana figure lunged at him, moving faster than anything Hiro had ever seen. In an instant, its blade-like arm slashed across Hiro's neck.
SLASH!
Hiro gasped as he felt the cold steel cut through his flesh. His body went limp, his vision fading as he collapsed onto the ground. Blood poured from his neck, his heartbeat slowing as darkness crept in.
But then—he was awake.
Hiro's eyes snapped open, and he found himself standing in the same spot as before, his body completely intact. His hand shot to his neck, expecting to feel the gaping wound—but there was nothing. Not a scratch, not a drop of blood.
"I'm sure I was slashed… just what happened?" Hiro muttered, his voice trembling. His entire body was drenched in sweat, his heart pounding in his chest.
The mana figure stood in front of him, its expression unreadable, its form still flickering like a fire. Hiro took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing thoughts. He had been killed—there was no doubt about that. But somehow, he was back, as if nothing had happened.
He didn't have time to think it through. The figure lunged at him again, moving with the same terrifying speed. Hiro barely had time to react, raising his sword to block the attack.
SLASH!
But it was too late. The mana figure's arm sliced through Hiro's body, and once again, he collapsed, his vision fading as death claimed him.
And once again, he woke up.
Hiro staggered back, his breathing ragged. "What is this…?"
Every time he was struck down, he revived, as though time itself was resetting. The mana figure stood there, watching him with cold, unfeeling eyes. Hiro's hand shook as he gripped his sword tighter. He had never felt so helpless, so powerless.
"I can't… beat it," Hiro whispered to himself. "No matter what I do…"
The figure moved again, and Hiro braced himself. But no matter how much he tried to defend, no matter how much he prepared, the figure was always faster, always stronger. Every strike hit its mark, and each time Hiro fell, he found himself standing once again, unharmed but shaken.
This cycle continued over and over. The minutes stretched into hours, and the hours into days. Each time, Hiro would fight with everything he had, only to be cut down again and again. His swordsmanship improved as he fought, his reactions sharpened, but it didn't matter. The mana figure was always one step ahead, always faster, always stronger.
Time became meaningless in this strange inner world. What felt like days turned into years, and still, the battle raged on. Hiro died hundreds, thousands of times, each death more painful than the last. But he always came back, always revived as though nothing had happened.
The mana figure's voice echoed in his mind after every defeat, taunting him. "You can't win. Not with brute force."
Hiro knew it was right. No matter how much he trained, no matter how many times he fought, he couldn't win by sheer strength alone. The figure was more than just an enemy—it was a reflection of the power inside him, a force of chaos and destruction that he couldn't control.
After what felt like twenty years of endless battle, Hiro collapsed to his knees, panting heavily. His body ached, not from the injuries—those always disappeared—but from the sheer exhaustion of fighting for so long. He stared up at the figure, sweat dripping down his face.
"I can't beat it… I'll never win…" Hiro muttered, his voice barely a whisper.
The figure stepped forward, raising its blade to strike once more. Hiro closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable.
But then, something clicked in his mind.
"This isn't about winning…" Hiro thought, his eyes slowly opening. "This power… it's mine. It's part of me."
For years, Hiro had been fighting against it, trying to defeat it like it was some external enemy. But that was the wrong approach. This figure wasn't just a foe—it was the embodiment of his own chaotic mana, the power that surged within him.
Hiro's grip on his sword loosened, and he lowered his weapon. He stood up, his gaze fixed on the mana figure.
"I won't fight you anymore," Hiro said, his voice calm. "You're not my enemy. You're my power."
The figure hesitated, its glowing eyes narrowing. It slashed at Hiro again, but this time, Hiro didn't move. The blade sliced through him, but he didn't fall. He didn't feel any pain.
Instead, the figure's form flickered, its body becoming unstable.
"I understand now," Hiro continued, his voice steady. "I can't defeat you because you're a part of me. I've been fighting myself this entire time."
The mana figure's form flickered again, its body slowly dissolving into wisps of energy. Hiro stood tall, his gaze unwavering.
"I accept you," Hiro said, his hand reaching out toward the dissolving figure. "You're my power. And I will control you."
The mana figure stopped flickering, its form stabilizing for a moment. Then, slowly, it began to dissipate, its body breaking apart into pure mana that flowed toward Hiro. The energy surged into him, filling him with a warmth he had never felt before.
Hiro gasped as the chaotic mana inside him finally settled. The storm that had raged within him for so long calmed, and for the first time, he felt in control.
The void around him began to fade, the darkness giving way to light. Hiro closed his eyes, feeling the power flow through him, no longer fighting against it but embracing it as his own.
When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer in the void. He stood back in the clearing where his battle with the mana figure had begun. But now, everything felt different. The chaotic mana that had once threatened to consume him was now a part of him—a power he could control.
Hiro took a deep breath, a faint smile crossing his lips. He had won—not through brute force, but through understanding. The power inside him was no longer a burden. It was his to command.