The villain's mask cracked as he staggered. Beneath it, Caelum glimpsed a face eerily familiar — their own eyes, but older, colder, burdened with endless sorrow.
"I tried to save us," he hissed, voice breaking. "I tried to fix everything!"
A blast of shadows knocked Caelum off their feet, but they rolled to their knees, katana raised. "You… you're me."
"I am what you become if you fail," the villain spat. "I watched worlds burn because I was too weak. I won't let them fall again."
Visions struck Caelum: cities torn apart by storms, rivers of flame consuming forests, endless screams. Each glimpse showed them wielding the katana, but twisted — a tyrant of ice, a puppet of rage.
Caelum's hand trembled. But then a memory returned: their mother's stories by firelight, Oren's steady presence, their sibling's smile.
"No," Caelum whispered, rising. "I won't become you."
They lunged. The katana flared with brilliant frost, the blade cutting through shadows to pierce the villain's chest. Ice spread in veins of pale light, freezing darkness solid. The villain staggered, mask shattering completely to reveal a face lined with grief — and a tear frozen on his cheek.
"Remember…" he rasped, voice echoing with regret, before the frost consumed him, leaving only drifting shards.