Web of Lost Memories

The light engulfed him, and for a moment, everything went silent. The creature, the desert, even his own fear—gone. He felt weightless, as if suspended in nothingness. Then, the world snapped back into place.

He was no longer in the desert.

Instead, he stood in a dimly lit chamber, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and something metallic—blood? The transition had been so sudden that his mind struggled to catch up. He gasped for breath, steadying himself against the cold stone wall. His hands trembled.

What is happening?

A low voice echoed through the chamber.

"You cannot escape your own mind."

His blood ran cold. He turned, searching for the source, but the chamber remained empty. Shadows danced along the walls, twisting unnaturally. His own shadow stretched and distorted, moving in ways it shouldn't.

Then, he saw it.

A figure stepped forward from the darkness. No… not just any figure.

Himself.

His exact reflection, except this version of him had cold, hollow eyes. A smirk curled at its lips, filled with something cruel. It tilted its head slightly, watching him as if amused.

"Scared, are we?" the doppelgänger sneered, voice dripping with mockery. "Pathetic. You've had everything handed to you your whole life. You don't even know what true hardship is."

His breath hitched. "What...?"

His doppelgänger stepped closer, each footstep echoing unnaturally loud in the chamber. "You're just a spoiled child playing hero," it continued. "You wake up in another world and suddenly think you're special? You think you'll survive? You think you'll change anything?"

The words cut deep.

They were his own doubts.

All the uncertainty, the panic, the feeling of being utterly lost—this wasn't just an enemy. It was himself.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears. His hands clenched into fists. "You're not real," he whispered, though even as he said it, his voice wavered.

The doppelgänger laughed. "Oh, but I am. I'm the part of you that you refuse to acknowledge. The part that knows you're weak. The part that knows you can't win."

The shadows swirled, growing darker. His chest tightened as the air seemed to press in on him.

No. No, this wasn't real.

It's just another trial.

But the fear felt real. The weight of doubt, the crushing pressure—it was overwhelming.

The doppelgänger stopped an arm's length away, its smirk widening. "You want to prove me wrong?" it whispered. "Then fight."

Without warning, it lunged.

He barely had time to react. His own fist came flying toward his face—his own strength turned against him. He ducked, heart racing, but the doppelgänger was relentless. Every move he made, it countered effortlessly. It was as if fighting his own reflection in a mirror—except the reflection was better. Faster.

Stronger.

He dodged, barely escaping another hit, but he was too slow. A sharp pain exploded in his side as the doppelgänger's knee drove into his ribs. He stumbled back, gasping.

His own voice sneered at him. "See? Weak."

No…

Pain flared, but he forced himself to stand. He wasn't going to lose.

This was his trial.

And if he had to fight himself—then so be it.

With renewed determination, he charged forward.