Got it! Here's the expanded continuation with the new character named Adam:
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Right after he made the announcement, Dreamer snapped his fingers.
Shadows crawled from every corner of the ever-changing wooden shack, moving like tendrils of ink across the uneven wooden floor. The children froze, watching in a mixture of fear and awe as the darkness consumed them one by one. It was a silent, inevitable process, as though the shadows were alive, hunting their prey with predatory precision.
In seconds, each of the 399 children disappeared, swallowed by the shadows. But one boy, standing at the far edge of the room, remained untouched.
Adam.
A boy with dark hair and pale skin, Adam stood out among his peers—not because of his physical presence, but because of the atmosphere around him. His features were delicate, almost ethereal, his gender discernible only upon closer inspection. He had an aura of perpetual gloom, an oppressive presence that seemed to weigh on those around him.
When the shadows reached him, they hesitated. For a brief moment, they recoiled, as if sensing something within him that even they feared. But the hesitation lasted only seconds before they moved forward.
The shadows enveloped Adam, wrapping around him like a cocoon. He didn't flinch, didn't move. His dark eyes remained open, staring unblinkingly as the shadows consumed him.
It took a full minute—far longer than any of the other children—for the process to complete. When the shadows finally dissipated, Adam was gone, teleported to his trial.
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Adam now stood in an empty void.
The space around him was vast and featureless, an infinite expanse of nothingness. The ground beneath his feet was smooth and cold, a reflective surface that mirrored the darkness above.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, a figure materialized before him, stepping out of the void as though it had always been there.
It was him.
Or rather, it was a perfect copy of him.
The copy was identical in every way—same dark hair, same pale skin, same delicate features. But there was something off about it, something sinister. Its eyes were sharper, colder, and they glimmered with a malice that Adam didn't recognize in himself.
The copy smiled, and the sight was unnerving. It was a smile that didn't belong on Adam's face—a smile that spoke of cruelty and violence.
"Hello, me," the copy said, its voice a perfect mimicry of Adam's own. "Ready to lose?"
Adam tilted his head, studying the copy. "Lose to myself? That's a contradiction."
The copy's smile widened. "Is it? You're not as strong as you think you are. But don't worry, I'll show you."
Without warning, the copy lunged forward, faster than any human should be. Its fist shot toward Adam's face, a blow meant to shatter bone.
Adam barely managed to dodge, stepping to the side as the fist whistled past him. The copy followed up with a roundhouse kick, its movements fluid and precise. Adam raised his arm to block, the impact sending a sharp jolt of pain through his body.
The force of the kick pushed him back, his boots skidding across the smooth surface.
"Faster than I expected," Adam muttered, flexing his fingers as he steadied himself.
The copy didn't respond. It charged again, its attacks relentless—a flurry of punches and kicks that left Adam no room to counter. For every move Adam made, the copy seemed to anticipate it, mirroring his style with eerie precision.
But Adam wasn't a child who gave up easily.
He ducked under a punch, spinning low to sweep the copy's legs out from under it. The copy jumped, avoiding the sweep, but Adam was already moving. He thrust his palm upward, aiming for the copy's chest. The blow connected, and the copy staggered back, its expression momentarily flickering with surprise.
"That's the difference between us," Adam said, his voice calm. "You're faster, stronger—but you're predictable."
The copy's smile returned, sharper than before. "You think that's all I've got?"
Before Adam could respond, the copy's body began to shift. Its pale skin darkened, turning a deep, inky black. Its eyes glowed red, and its delicate features twisted into something monstrous. Its aura, once a match to Adam's, grew heavier, darker, suffocating.
Adam's expression remained neutral, but his fists clenched at his sides.
"You think turning into a monster will scare me?" he asked, his voice steady.
The copy didn't answer. It roared, the sound reverberating through the void, and charged again.
This time, the fight was different. The copy's movements were erratic, unpredictable, its attacks fueled by raw aggression. Adam struggled to keep up, each blow landing harder than the last.
Blood dripped from his lip as he staggered back, his breathing labored.
"This… isn't fair," he muttered, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand.
The copy laughed, a guttural sound that didn't belong to a human. "Fair? Since when is life fair?"
Adam's eyes narrowed.
"Fine," he said, his voice low. "If you want unfair, I'll show you unfair."
He closed his eyes, focusing inward. The oppressive aura around him seemed to condense, pulling inward as he gathered his strength. When he opened his eyes again, they glowed faintly, a silvery light that cut through the darkness.
The air around him shifted.
The copy hesitated, its red eyes narrowing.
"What are you—"
Adam moved faster than the copy could react. One moment, he was standing still; the next, he was in front of the copy, his fist slamming into its chest. The impact sent the copy flying backward, its body skidding across the reflective surface.
Before it could recover, Adam was on top of it, his attacks relentless. Each blow was precise, aimed at its weakest points.
The copy screamed, its voice distorted and inhuman.
But Adam didn't stop. He fought with a cold, calculated precision, his expression emotionless as he dismantled his opponent.
When the copy finally stopped moving, its body flickering and fading, Adam stood over it, his breathing heavy.
"Fair or not," he said, his voice cold, "I win".