Chapter 283: Void Prism

The reflection lunged.

Adam’s instincts took over. His body twisted, dark energy already gathering in his palm. "[Abyssal Pierce]!" The void-charged projectile shot toward the mirror image, tearing through the air with a hungry shriek.

The reflection’s hand rose. Dark energy gathered in its palm. "[Abyssal Pierce]!"

The two projectiles met in the center of the chamber with a deafening CRACK. Void energy splintered, scattering in all directions, carving shallow gouges in the mirrored floor. Adam’s eyes narrowed. ’It copied my skill.’

He didn’t pause. His jaws opened wide, and flames erupted from his throat—a wild, raging torrent that consumed the air between them. "[Fire Breath]!" The heat was immense, warping the air, turning the mirrored surfaces around them to weeping glass.

The reflection’s jaws opened. Flames erupted from its throat. "[Fire Breath]!"

The two streams of fire collided, and the chamber blazed white. Heat pressed against Adam from all sides, his own flames turning back on him, scorching his scales, singing his hair. He cut off the attack, and the reflection did the same. The flames died, leaving the air thick with smoke and the smell of burnt ozone.

Adam’s chest heaved. His crimson eyes tracked the reflection as it circled him, mirroring his every movement, his every breath.

’It copies everything I do. Every skill, every movement, every tactic.’ His internal voice was sharp, analytical. ’If I attack, it attacks. If I defend, it defends. It’s a perfect mirror.’

He feinted left. The reflection feinted left. He dropped into a crouch. The reflection dropped into a crouch.

Adam’s lips pressed into a thin line.

’So how do I beat something that’s exactly as strong as I am?’

He launched himself forward, claws extended. "[Monarch’s Pierce]!" His fist, wreathed in dark energy, slammed toward the reflection’s chest.

The reflection’s fist met his. "[Monarch’s Pierce]!"

The impact was thunderous. Shockwaves rippled outward, cracking the mirrored floor, sending shards of glass spraying in all directions. Adam felt the force reverberate up his arm, his bones creaking under the strain. The reflection stumbled back, but Adam stumbled back too, his arm throbbing.

’Even the force is the same.’

He leaped back, putting distance between them. The reflection mirrored him, landing in the same crouch, its crimson eyes never leaving his face.

Adam called on the Crown. "[Domineering Will]!"

The psychic pressure exploded outward, slamming into the reflection’s consciousness.

The reflection didn’t stagger. Its form flickered, but it didn’t bend. It didn’t kneel. It simply stood there, crimson eyes fixed on Adam, and then it raised its hand.

"[Domineering Will]!"

The psychic pressure rebounded, slamming into Adam’s own mind. He gasped, stumbling back, his vision blurring. The Crown blazed on his brow, fighting off the intrusion, but the force of it left him shaken.

’It can use the Crown’s abilities too.’

He straightened, his breathing ragged, his crimson eyes blazing.

’This is going to be a problem.’

Adam circled the reflection, and the reflection circled him. Both of them moved in perfect sync, each step mirrored, each breath matched. The mirrored floor reflected their dance, doubling and redoubling their images until the chamber seemed filled with copies of copies, an endless hall of Adams staring back at themselves.

’If it’s truly my equal... then I need to do something it can’t copy.’

He thought of his evolution. The Ouroboros Progenitor. The Eternal Cycle that bound his regeneration to his very soul.

’But that’s passive. It’s not something I can actively use to gain an advantage.’

His gaze swept the chamber, searching for anything he could use, any flaw in the reflection’s imitation.

The reflection’s gaze swept the chamber, mirroring his search.

Adam stopped. The reflection stopped.

’A perfect mirror... but a mirror only reflects what’s in front of it. It can’t predict what I haven’t done yet.’

His lips curved into a cold, sharp smile.

’So I’ll do something unpredictable.’

He raised his right hand. Dark energy gathered in his palm, the familiar weight of [Abyssal Pierce] coiling around his fingers. At the same time, his left hand rose, prismatic light dancing across his palm—[Prismatic Beam], bright and terrible.

The reflection mirrored him. Dark energy in its right hand. Prismatic light in its left.

Adam’s lips curved.

’It’s copying the setup. But it doesn’t know what I’m about to do.’

He pushed his hands together.

The dark energy and the prismatic light met, and for a moment, they resisted each other, void and radiance refusing to merge. Adam gritted his teeth, forcing them together, forcing them to combine.

[Abyssal Pierce] wanted to consume. [Prismatic Beam] wanted to illuminate. They were opposites, forces that should never have touched.

Adam didn’t care.

He poured his will into the fusion, sweat beading on his forehead, his arms trembling with the effort. The Crown blazed on his brow, feeding power into the unstable mass. The souls of the dead screamed.

And then they merged.

A new light bloomed in Adam’s palms, a churning vortex of void and radiance that pulsed with hungry, hungry light. It was unstable, untested, and it wanted to explode.

Adam smiled.

’This will definitely not be predictable.’

The reflection’s eyes widened. Its hands moved, trying to copy the fusion, but it was too slow, too hesitant. It had never seen this before. It didn’t know how.

Adam thrust his hands forward.

"[Void Prism]!"

The vortex shot from his palms, a spiraling beam of dark and light that tore through the air, through the mirrored floor, through the very fabric of the chamber. It struck the reflection square in the chest.

The reflection’s form convulsed. Its body cracked, light bleeding from the wounds, darkness seeping from the fissures. It tried to regenerate, but the vortex was still there, still tearing, still consuming.

The reflection screamed.

Its body crumbled, pieces of itself scattering across the mirrored floor, and Adam watched himself die.

It was strange, watching his own body break apart. The familiar shape of his horns, the curve of his claws, the crimson of his eyes, all of it crumbling into ash.

Adam’s breath caught. His chest tightened.

’This feels... weird.’

For a moment, he couldn’t look away. The reflection’s face, frozen in an expression of shock, stared back at him from a dozen shattered fragments.

Then the pieces began to move.

They slid across the floor, drawn together by an invisible force, reforming, reknitting. The cracks sealed. The wounds closed. The reflection rose again, its body whole, its crimson eyes blazing.

’[Ouroboros Rebirth].’

Adam’s eyes widened. The skill he had used only once before, the skill that burned life force to regenerate from fatal wounds, the reflection had copied it.

"It regenerated..." His voice came out rough, disbelieving. "It copied my Ouroboros skill."

The reflection tilted its head, studying him with those too-familiar eyes. Then it raised its hands, dark energy and prismatic light gathering in its palms.

It was going to use [Void Prism] back at him.