The forest was silent when Li Zhen emerged from the cave, the path ahead unclear. He had chosen. He had severed one version of himself from the spiraling web of past selves. And yet, despite the finality of his decision, a gnawing emptiness lingered in the pit of his stomach, as though something—someone—was missing.
The sword hummed faintly at his side, its voice soft and contemplative. It had said nothing since the decision in the cave, perhaps waiting for him to process the consequences of his choice. But Li Zhen could not find peace. He walked for hours, the trees around him closing in, the darkness growing heavier with each step. His mind was clouded, and the memories of his other selves began to swirl once more.
It was then that he saw it.
The air ahead seemed to warp, the forest distorting in a sickening wave. A figure emerged from the trees, a tall, twisted form that made Li Zhen's blood run cold. The figure was him, and yet it was not. It was a grotesque version of himself, one that bore the scars of a broken soul. The figure's eyes were sunken, hollow sockets that seemed to drain the light from the world. His face was twisted in a perpetual grimace, as though he had been tortured by his own existence for an eternity. The skin, once smooth and strong, was marred with deep cuts and burns, and his clothing hung in tatters.
"Zhen the Broken," Li Zhen whispered to himself, his voice barely audible. The words tasted bitter, and yet they rang with a terrible truth.
The creature—this version of himself—slowly stepped forward, dragging its feet as though the weight of the world bore down on it. Every movement seemed unnatural, as though the body did not belong to him anymore, as though it had been twisted by some dark force that was now far beyond his control.
"You," the monster rasped, its voice hollow and raw. "You chose. You severed us."
Li Zhen's hand instinctively tightened around the hilt of his sword. The sound of the blade's hum vibrated through the air, a warning, an answer. He took a step back, feeling his pulse quicken. His mind raced, but his thoughts were fragmented—lost in the growing darkness that seemed to take form before him.
The twisted version of him—this demon who wore his skin—laughed, a hollow, mocking sound that echoed through the woods like a distant storm. "You think you can escape me? You think you can escape the parts of you that you cast aside? The parts that made you who you are?"
Li Zhen's chest tightened. He remembered the words the figure in the cave had spoken: "You must become one." But this... this was not what he had envisioned. This creature—this Zhen the Broken—was what remained of the pieces he had abandoned, the parts of himself he had tried to bury, to deny.
"You were always weak," Zhen the Broken sneered, his voice thick with contempt. "You chose the easy path. You abandoned us all."
Li Zhen's throat tightened. "I chose to survive. To be free from the spiral."
"Survive?" Zhen the Broken spat, his eyes blazing with a mad light. "There is no survival. There is only death, only decay, only the eternal chain that binds us all together. You think your choices will set you free? You are still me—and I am you. Always. Forever."
The words cut deeper than any blade. Li Zhen felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Every inch of him wanted to run, to escape this twisted version of himself, but his feet were rooted to the ground. The sword at his side pulsed with energy, its hum growing louder, more insistent. It could not protect him from the truth. This version, this Zhen the Broken, was a part of him. A dark reflection of all his regrets, all his unhealed wounds.
He was this version. He had always been this version. The truth of it was undeniable.
"You think you can stand against me, don't you?" Zhen the Broken grinned, revealing cracked teeth. "You think you can fight your way out of your own darkness. But I am the monster you never faced. I am the truth you buried deep inside."
Li Zhen lifted his sword, the weight of it heavier than ever before. The words burned like fire, but he could not turn away. He would not turn away. There was no other choice now.
"I will destroy you," Li Zhen said, his voice steady but strained. The words felt like a vow, like an affirmation of the battle that was about to unfold between them.
Zhen the Broken's grin twisted into something more grotesque, more sinister. "You cannot destroy me. I am you. You cannot destroy yourself, Zhen. You cannot escape what you have done."
And then, with a roar, the creature lunged, its monstrous form colliding with Li Zhen's. The impact was like a bolt of lightning, shaking him to the core. The sword in his hand was no longer just a weapon; it was a part of him, a piece of his very soul, and it was all that stood between him and the abyss.
The two figures crashed into the underbrush, struggling in a tangle of limbs and teeth. Li Zhen's sword slashed through the air, cutting through the darkness, but each strike seemed to pass through the creature's body like smoke. It was as though Zhen the Broken had no physical form—no substance—only the darkness within him. Each cut Li Zhen made felt like cutting through his own mind, his own thoughts. The sword howled in frustration as it struggled to find purchase.
"I am you," Zhen the Broken hissed, his voice rising in madness. "I am the shadows you refuse to face. I am the part of you that you cannot escape. You are nothing without me."
With a final roar, Zhen the Broken threw Li Zhen to the ground. He could hear the crunch of bones as his body slammed into the earth, his breath knocked from his lungs. The sword flew from his grasp, skittering across the forest floor. The demon loomed over him, its eyes glowing with a ferocity that made Li Zhen's blood run cold.
"You cannot defeat me," Zhen the Broken whispered. "Because I am you. You can never escape me."
Li Zhen lay there, breathless and broken, his thoughts spinning in the dark whirlpool of regret and pain. His heart beat furiously, a pounding rhythm in his chest that seemed to echo Zhen the Broken's words. I am you. I am you. You are nothing without me.
But then, the faintest light flickered at the edge of his vision.
The sword.
It lay there, glimmering faintly in the dark, the answer to everything he had been searching for. It was his only hope—his only salvation.
With a primal roar, Li Zhen crawled toward it, his fingers scraping against the earth, pulling himself forward despite the pain that shot through his limbs. The sword's hum grew louder, more insistent, as though calling him home.
With one final push, he grasped the hilt, the familiar warmth of the blade flooding his senses.
The creature howled, but Li Zhen was already on his feet, the sword now alive in his hand. His body was battered, but his spirit was unbroken. He had made his choice. He had faced his darkness and embraced it.
This was not the end. This was only the beginning.
With a single, clean stroke, he cut through the demon's form, the darkness evaporating like mist before the dawn.
Zhen the Broken's last words echoed in his mind, but Li Zhen no longer listened. He had destroyed the monster that wore his skin, and in doing so, he had destroyed the part of himself that held him back.
Now, he could move forward.
The path ahead was still unclear, but for the first time in a long while, Li Zhen felt free.