The battlefield quaked beneath Aiden's feet, his form rippling like a fragile reflection on water. The Sentinel's jagged armor glimmered faintly, his shattered helm exposing a face that mirrored Aiden's own, older and worn by shadow. Aiden staggered back, his glowing ring faltering.
"What is this?" Aiden demanded, his voice laced with confusion and anger. "Why do you look like me?"
Captain Smith stepped forward, his coat tattered and his arm still bleeding. His tone was calm, but his eyes betrayed a deeper concern. "Isn't it obvious?" he said, his voice cutting through the tension. "He's you."
Before Aiden could respond, Sylva floated closer, her light flickering faintly. "No, he's not you," she interjected sharply. "He is an alternate version of you—a possibility, a timeline. He is a you, not the you." Her tone was firm, almost cold, as if denying the connection could protect Aiden.
The Sentinel let out a bitter laugh, the sound carrying a mix of disdain and pain. "And what difference does that make?" he barked, his voice rising with venom. "How many Aidens have fallen for her sick little game? How many Lilas have died in this twisted cycle of cat and mouse? The Core and Sylva playing their eternal dance while we're nothing more than pawns."
Sylva hesitated, her glow dimming. The Sentinel seized the moment, his tone growing darker. "Do you think you're special, boy? That your story will somehow end differently? How many Aidens do you think are suffering in the Otherworld right now, trapped in their failures? How many timelines have been burned to ash while you cling to your delusions?"
Aiden's voice cracked as he turned to Sylva. "Is he telling the truth?" he asked, his words laden with doubt. "Could there really be others like me? Others like… Lila?"
Sylva's light faltered further, her usual confidence replaced by a rare vulnerability. "The Otherworld is vast, Aiden," she admitted quietly. "Ever-changing. I do not see everything, nor can I be everywhere. There are timelines where humans don't even exist, let alone you. The universe does not revolve around one man."
Aiden's fists clenched, his blade glowing faintly in his grip. He turned back to the Sentinel, his voice steadier now. "Even if that's true," he said, his tone firm, "it doesn't change anything. I feel your pain, your loss… I get it. But you're wrong, and I'm going to save her. I'll break this cycle, and I'll do it my way."
The Sentinel roared, his fury boiling over. He lunged at Aiden, his blade trailing streams of shadowy crimson energy. Aiden didn't flinch. He slipped into the rippling motions of combat, weaving through the Sentinel's strikes with practiced precision. His Equinox Blade clashed against the Sentinel's jagged weapon, each strike sending sparks of light and shadow scattering across the battlefield.
Their blades clashed again, sending another wave of light and shadow rippling through the fog. As they fought, cracks began to spread across the battlefield. These fissures glowed faintly, their edges jagged and unnatural. They weren't just fractures in the ship—they were fractures in reality itself, places where light and shadow collided violently.
From the sidelines, Sylva's voice was tinged with concern. "The cracks… They're spreading faster," she said, her eyes scanning the frost tipped air. "This isn't just the fragment collapsing. It's the result of their clash—is this aiden's influence pushing the balance too far?"
The Sentinel growled in frustration as Aiden dodged a heavy strike, his form flickering. But this time, Aiden didn't phase. His body moved slower, his rippling form solidifying.
Smith's voice cut through the fog from the sidelines. "He's fading," he muttered, his gaze narrowing. "The transcendent form won't hold much longer."
Aiden didn't notice. His transcendent state had faded, leaving him with only his hybrid abilities. Yet, even without his full power, he held his ground. He danced between the Sentinel's strikes, his movements precise and adaptive.
The Sentinel roared, his fury boiling over. He lunged at Aiden, his blade trailing streams of shadowy crimson energy. Aiden didn't flinch. He weaved through the Sentinel's strikes with precise, fluid movements, his form rippling briefly with echoes of his transcendent state.
Captain Smith, observing from the sidelines, muttered to himself, "He's adapting... instinctively weaving balance into his style. No forced power surges, fascinating."
The Sentinel's blade clashed against Aiden's glowing Equinox Blade, sending sparks of light and shadow scattering across the misty battlefield. The younger warrior dodged with a swift sidestep, his movements deliberate and calculated.
"I don't blame you for hating this," Aiden said between clashes, his voice heavy with empathy. "I don't blame you for wanting to destroy it all. But that's not the answer."
"You think balance can save her? You're a fool, just like I was." The Sentinel sneered, his blade crackling with dark energy, "Balance is an illusion. Creation is born from destruction—chaos births order. And you—will never understand that!"
Aiden parried another strike, his blade glowing brighter as it clashed against the Sentinel's. "Maybe," he admitted, his voice steady. "But I'd rather be a fool who fights for hope than a monster who's given up."
With a powerful swing, Aiden disarmed the Sentinel, his blade slicing through the jagged weapon. The Sentinel staggered back, his exposed face twisted with disbelief as Aiden raised his glowing blade for the final blow.
Before Aiden could strike, the battlefield quaked violently. A low, resonant hum filled the air as dark cracks began forming around the anomaly that pulsed with the Core's energy. These jagged fissures didn't just spread through the mist—they cut through the very fabric of the fragment, extending out like blackened veins. Through the cracks, glimpses of the real world flickered like distant stars, hauntingly distorted
"What? Not now!" the Sentinel growled, his voice tinged with panic as the cracks spread closer
Dark roots erupted from the fissure, coiling around the Sentinel. A deep, resonant voice echoed through the mist, chilling in its calm malice.
"Enough," the Core's voice intoned, reverberating through the air. "There need not be such conflict. Come to me, Aiden, Come to me, Sylva. Within my embrace, you will find salvation—your love and your greatest enemy. I will make sure they are await here for you."
The roots yanked the Sentinel upward, dragging him toward a gaping fissure that pulsed with dark energy. "No!" he roared
in defiance, clawing at the roots, but they held firm. "I won't go back!" His gaze locked onto Aiden's, his crimson eyes burning with hatred and sorrow.
"This isn't over!" the Sentinel snarled as he was pulled into the abyss. "You can't escape the truth!"
The fissures closed with a deafening crack, leaving the battlefield eerily silent. The battlefield fell silent, Aiden stood motionless. his grip on his blade tightening as he processed the events.
The Titanic groaned ominously, the tolling of the iceberg bell growing louder. The group turned as the ship collided with the iceberg, the impact sending tremors through the fragment.
The world erupted into chaos as the Titanic began to sink rapidly. The group's faces were etched with fear and confusion, but Captain Smith remained calm, his crimson eyes steady as he watched the civilians and enforcers work in unison. "It's the reset," he said quietly, his tone carrying both reassurance and finality. "This is how it ends… and begins again."
The civilians showed no panic, their expressions serene as the ship descended. Lifeboats lowered, shadows dissipated, and the waters seemed to part with each movement. Aiden, Sylva, and the group braced themselves against the violent tremors. They could only watch in stunned silence.
The world seemed to tilt as the ship disappeared beneath the surface. The waters shimmered, glowing with ethereal light as the Titanic reappeared on the other side. The fragment reset like an hourglass, its chaos inverting into order. On the other side of the water, the ship reassembled itself, the cracks sealing as the cycle reset.
The Titanic passed through the chaos, emerging on calm waters. The mist lifted, revealing a pristine horizon as though nothing had happened. The ship reset, its grand halls and gilded decks restored to their former glory.
Captain Smith turned to the group, his voice calm but firm. "The Core has issued its challenge," he said, his gaze locking onto Aiden. "The choice is yours, but the time to hesitate is over."
Aiden's grip tightened on his blade, his resolve hardening. "Then let's finish this."