The sky wept silver rain as Kaito and Isha approached the Echo Throne.
They stood at the edge of the Black Sea, whose surface didn't ripple—it reflected. Each wave mirrored the deepest thoughts of whoever stared into it. Kaito saw himself—hundreds of versions, all watching him with unreadable eyes.
"Only one path forward," Isha said, pointing at the bridge that wasn't there a moment ago.
It formed slowly—glass panels held aloft by memory itself. Each step they took on the bridge echoed with ancient voices, whispering judgment.
Halfway across, the sky split.
Lightning didn't strike—it unwound.
And from that fissure came a single figure, cloaked in steel and light.
Kaito froze.
Because the figure… was him.
Same face. Same eyes. But colder. Sharper. With no trace of doubt.
The figure drew a sword identical to Nightcleaver—except its flame was blue, not violet.
Isha stepped back.
"The Mirrorborn. A version of you… from a world where you never lost."
The Mirrorborn raised his blade. "You seek to become whole?" His voice was calm. "Then prove you deserve it."
He attacked.
Kaito barely blocked the first strike—shockwaves rippled through the bridge.
Each clash tore through the air like thunder. Sparks flew. Steel screamed. They moved like mirrors—matching blow for blow. But Kaito was slower, less certain.
"You hesitate," the Mirrorborn said. "That's why your world burned."
Kaito growled. "Then maybe it's time I stop holding back!"
He roared, unleashing a surge of violet energy from Nightcleaver. The bridge cracked under the force. His next swing shattered the Mirrorborn's guard—but not his resolve.
They clashed again, this time in midair—both blades flaring with ancient power.
As they collided, memories surged between them—of victories won, lovers lost, worlds ruled or saved or destroyed.
The Mirrorborn pushed Kaito back, landing silently.
"You have heart," he said. "But is it enough?"
Kaito stood, blood on his lip, flame in his eyes.
"No," he said. "But I've got more than just heart. I've got a world to protect. A life to reclaim. And a sword that finally remembers."
Nightcleaver howled as he launched forward—this time not just with skill, but will.
The final strike wasn't elegant.
It was real.
The Mirrorborn's blade cracked.
And with one last echo… he vanished.
Isha stepped forward. "You didn't just beat him," she whispered. "You accepted him."
Kaito looked at the sea, where his reflection now stood alone.
"I'm not just a piece of who I was," he said. "I'm becoming who I'm meant to be."
And the gates to the Echo Throne opened wide.