Chapter 69: Because I’m You
Nara hadn’t wanted to admit it, but she if she really had no way to return to Earth, she would not be that upset. She’d be more upset for John, who was her comrade-in-arms (literally), and she’d hate to see him grieve the permanent loss of his family as time wore away. It would break John. For his own survival, his ability had prioritized his return to Earth above all else—above receiving his essences faster, an outworlder’s greatest advantage.
She loved her new life, even the danger. She loved magic and the new people she met. She loved training, researching, and traveling.
She missed her family. She would feel homesickness, the loss of their presence. Her mother, father, and sister, all very dear to her, despite their differences.
If she had to chose one life or another, she would choose her life on Erras. She felt like she had potential here, a goal to live for. On Earth, she was just another ordinary office worker. No house, no significant other, no plans for the future. Just living her day to day in mindless repetition. Life wasn’t bad, but life wasn’t exciting.
This may be her honeymoon phase with Erras—she made rapid improvements now, but what about after 5 years? 20 years? 50 years? Magic was new and fun, the world was colorful and exciting, the culture was interesting and vibrant.
She would surely experience the same stagnation, and her life would settle down.
She had related to thrill seekers when she had not previously when she dropped from the sky at terminal velocity.
Death was terrifying.
Yet now Nara felt a boring life was worse. She could not tolerate boredom—that grey, buzzing emptiness that filled her yet filled nothing. If fear was the mind killer, boredom was the time killer. In the face of eternal repetition, eternal meaninglessness, time was another insignificant suggestion.
Fear not death, but a life unlived.
*****
“You’re back,” the mimic said, “You’ve had some new and exciting personal revelations.”
“You know about that?”
“I copy you the moment you pass through the portal,” the mimic said, “Otherwise you could practice outside to improve, then come inside.”
“And that’d be too easy.”
“Not much of a trial if you can go and practice on your own time. Then its just ordinary practice. Why are you here, Nara?”
“For myself,” Nara said.
“Not to return to your family, though.”
“Not really,” Nara admitted to herself, “I’m just here because I find it exciting.”
“You’ve really gone and lost it.”
“I think I lost it a long time ago, back in the astral. There are worse things than death. Dying to myself at iron rank is a bit early, but a battle to the death is more epic than wasting away bedridden in a hospital.”
“Not your style, now.”
“I would’ve chosen the pod, anyway.”
“You’d rather cut your life short than be a burden.”
“In that world, anyway.”
The mimic sighed, “I can’t say this is a healthy character development.”
“I completely agree. I find the change a bit ridiculous myself.”
“You don’t even fight for justice or to save others, but because you find it exciting.”
“Hey, I’m not so coldhearted as to not protect civilians. That’s important to me too.”
“But, not so much as to leave Specter here.”
“This and that are two different things. And if you’re me, you agree.”
“I do agree.”
“So you’ll let me pass?”
“I said it before, and I’ll say it again: It doesn’t work that way.”
“I didn’t expect it any other way. En garde, mimic!” Nara said, butchering the French accent even though she could speak French.
“Toi aussi, Nara!” The mimic said, equaling her campiness in tone and expression. A fierce smile was plastered on the mimic’s face. Nara wondered if it mirrored her own.
*****
Nara’s attention sharpened and focused. She watched the mimic—
No, she watched herself. The way she held her sword, the way she moved, how her sword flowed from one direction to the next, when she parried and when she dodged. Each and every detail, Nara took it in, focusing more on learning herself than protecting herself.
She suffered wounds in the process of her focused observation, but small, recoverable ones. She needed to make as many mistakes as possible now, so that she may benefit later, to surpass herself.
Trial and error had to begin early before Nara’s afflictions grew so damaging that she’d die from a mistake.
Chaining this move from The Way of the Pugilist into The Way of the Dancer?
Wrong. A slash connected against her shoulder, drawing blood.
Then, how about moving closer here?
Wrong.
She focused more, drawing on every drop of her mental capacity. The way her movements flowed, where she staggered and struggled, where she waited too long, moves that lacked complexity, moves that were overly complex. Moves that wasted energy with large overdone swings, attacks that needed more aggression and power. A stutter step there that could have spun smoothly. They way she lost track of herself with certain maneuvers. Times she dodged too closely, other times she dodged too far. There, she could have used two hands, and there, she could switch back to one. A grapple there, and kick here. Teleporting behind was too predictable. She could connect that move to her momentum. She needed to utilize more feints to open up vulnerabilities.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Right. Right. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Right. Wrong. Right. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Right. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Right. Right. Right. Wrong. Right. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Right.
Wrong.
The black blade of copied Nirvana connected with her waist, blowing a hole in her side from the cumulative afflictions.
She stood, blood pouring from her side from the massive chunk that was missing, as if a lion had taken a bite of her. The mimic stopped attacking, staring at Nara from a safe distance away.
“Why did you stop?”
“Hurry and drink your damn potion before you kneel over and die.”
Nara grunted, manifesting the potion into her hand and uncorking the bottle. She drank the potion, and slipped the empty bottle back into her inventory.
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“Why did you wait for me?” Nara asked again.
“Can’t you guess? I’m you.”
“You don’t want to kill me.”
“I don’t,” the Mimic said, “I have your morals and ethics. I know I am the mimic. If I win, I kill you, a real person. So turn back and preserve your life. You fail today, you live another day. Didn’t Mona teach you that? Take her advice!” Mimic Nara was exasperated, pleading clear in her voice.
“I haven’t killed anyone.”
“And I don’t want the first person I kill to be you! So just give up already! It’s not a mark against your skill. It’s not easy to improve in the middle of the fight. You aren’t inadequate, it’s this damn trial that’s unreasonable. Why would they keep the knowledge you need, the knowledge that many people would benefit from, in a trial that only the most inexperience and naïve can access? This cult is twisted, and you shouldn’t have to play by their damn rules!”
“There’s no other way,” Nara said, “Even if I can return by slipping past the dimensional barrier, I can’t get back into that room without first reaching there.”
“We both know this isn’t about the damn book!”
Nara realized she had one final advantage against the mimic.
“Why don’t you use your Umbral Wolf to kill me?”
“You know the reason.”
“You know you’re a mimic.”
The mimic sighed, “Even if I am a mimic, even if I am temporary, even if my Thanatos is just a copy, I can’t send him to his death.”
“Death is temporary for familiars.” Destruction of their vessel was a more apt term, but it’d still hurt to see Thanatos’s body ripped apart.
“Even so, my life is not at risk. My life will never be at risk. I’m not a person that would send my familiars to die. I don’t ever want to be that type of person. He’s my friend, not my slave. You could do that though; you can secure a win this way.”
“I won’t,” Nara said, “He’s my friend. My buddy.” Which confirmed her mimic was indeed a perfect reflection of her.
“Why do you insist on taking this difficult path?” Mimic Nara’s eyes burned with frustration.
Nara had never seen herself so worked up. It was a strange sight.
“I sort of feel like I’m bullying myself.”
“Is it really the time for that? If you get it, go back.”
“Can’t do that.”
“Don’t you get it, beyond this point, even a single scratch is dangerous!”
It would be instantaneous death in the right place. A skim of steel (or whatever her sword was made of) against her forehead, and she’d have a hole blown in her skull. Even without a brain, it’d kill her and her meager iron rank vitality.
“You’ll let me go back to the rest room?”
“Yeah, so you can bleed out in the white room. Healing is potent there, but even in that room there is a limit. It can’t revive the dead. Be real, okay? Just take the potion back. Live another day, fight another battle.”
Nara raised Nirvana pointing it towards the mimic.
“You’ve won round one. It’s time for round two.”
“Please, don’t,” the mimic said. “Just stop, for fuck’s sake.”
“I’ve made my decision.”
“You’re not normally such a fixed person. Why is it now you have a pointlessly stubborn will? This is nothing. You’re risking your life over nothing.”
“Yeah, I know,” Nara said, “Thanks.”
“Thank your damn clean hands,” the mimic grumbled, but nonetheless shifted her posture into one for fighting.
“I do wash them every time. You know, the hygiene here is really lacking…”
*****
The next stage of the battle was tense. They fought like fleeting shadows in the dawn sun, bugs that skipped over the surface of the lake with the barest ripple.
A single scratch was dangerous, potentially lethal.
The mimic didn’t hold back, it couldn’t hold back. When they fought, the mimic fought with the intent to win. The swordplay changed into something both were unfamiliar with. Soft, light, and fast, aiming for pinprick scratches. They were acupuncturists fighting a battle to strike a lethal nerve.
Nara’s mind focused further, unnecessary sensory inputs flowing away. The skirting of their blades, the fluttering of her robe, the sound of her foot on the floor, the glow of World’s End, the vibrations of their strikes. She saw and sensed it all. She felt as is she was pulling beyond what she could normally offer, her mind slipping into a seamless, quiet overdrive.
It happened gradually, but her swordplay refined. Slowly, the battle eased. Her own strikes became easier to redirect and predict. She saw her own mistakes, her own patterns, her own inefficiencies.
One by one, she corrected them all, then, she surpassed them. She used herself to teach herself. For her fighting style, she was underutilizing parrying and redirections. It was important to her to slip past her opponent’s defenses, to take their power and turn it into her own. She could flex the weight of her strikes, using more strength or less in unexpected ways—feints.
Her sword and fighting grew faster and sharper. Other times, she was deceptively loose, drawing her opponent in. She skirted the edge, growing more unpredictable with every moment. What was real and what was fake?
The mimic stopped, and so did Nara.
“This, this is enough, isn’t it? Just end it.”
“I’m not done yet.”
“I know you’ve surpassed me, so stop being a fucking idiot. You’re going to get hurt trying something else, and get yourself killed.”
“We’ve reached that point?”
“We have. This is the point of no return, Nara.”
“I can do more,” Nara said again, insistent, “There’s something else I want to try. It’s so rare to have such a perfect partner, the perfect circumstances to push myself, so please do me this favor? I don’t want to end it early when there’s more to learn.”
“A favor?”
“It is a favor,” Nara said, “If you really want to stop now, I’ll end it now.”
“But you want to continue.”
“I do.”
“I don’t understand you anymore,” the mimic said softly, “Victory is in your grasp.”
“It’s not about victory, it’s about challenge.”
“There’s plenty of opportunities to challenge yourself in the future.”
“But each challenge has a different result. I want your challenge.”
Mimic Nara whistled, “That was almost flirtatious.”
“I’ve had some more practice,” Nara said with a grin.
“That’s maybe the best compliment I’ve ever gotten,” Mimic Nara said, “You should try using that on someone.”
“Nah dude, in any other circumstance that’s an insult, right?”
The mimic paused; her face forlorn but still curled in a smile.
“I think you’re right about that. Maybe don’t use that.”
The battle began again.
There was an ability that Nara hadn’t touched. She had left it on automatic operation since she had gotten it. Nara thought that this was the perfect opportunity to master Infinity Domain.
-------
Ability: [Infinity Domain]
Conjuration (dimension)
Cost: Moderate mana, very low mana-per-second
Cooldown: None
Effect (Iron): Conjures an [Infinity Domain] around self. Within the [Infinity Domain], physical space is passively manipulated, slightly shifting the trajectory of incoming attacks. Manipulation can be actively managed for more direct effect or disabled and re-enabled as a whole or locally.
-------
She started small, balancing her concentration on the battle with active manipulation of space. Small, simple actions. She lengthened the time mimic-Nara’s sword took to swing by extended space. This was already happening automatically, but this time Nara actively controlled the effect.
The repeated this for a while, switching the function from automatic to manual to get used to the feeling.
Slowly, slowly, she had to take it slowly.
Next, speeding up her own sword. She shortened space for her swing. It was a strange sensation, as if she had skipped a frame of animation. Space that she should have had to bypass no longer existed.
She further experimented, technique pushed through extreme progress though life and death experiences. Essence users thrived here; this was the challenge they chased. Riding the line that pushed them faster and further, until one day, they would stand at the peak, diamond rank. The apex of skill and technique, forged in the flames of challenge. Experience was the hammer that shaped the blade, bringing out the diamond that lay within.
Everything fell away. In its place, a manipulation of dimension Nara had never reached before. She could see it now; her mastery of Infinity Domain had been so infantile. It was wasted. To just shift her or an opponent’s attack was infuriatingly basic. Nara was once again astounded by the depths that lay within each ability. To think she thought she could master Infinity Domain here was folly in and of itself. Iron rank was not enough to master the depths this ability—each ability—could offer.
She’d settle for adequacy.
She weaved the dimensional space around her. Dimension itself became a tapestry of her play, a choreography she chose for both herself and her opponent.
Her opponents attacks, pathed as directed, dancing to her chosen tune. She could intentionally manipulate the attack to go where she wanted, allowing her to trigger Dream’s Wake and Astral Return as she wished, even if their effects were meaningless at this state of the fight.
Each moment, they danced on the boundary of life and death. But still, she continued, practicing and refining.
She was the smith. This battle would continue. The mimic accepted its role, playing her forge partner. Together, they created a new Nara, born again from the fires.
Space bent, and the opponents sword slide by, as if space itself protected Nara. The effect of Infinity Domain was not that extreme, despite it’s name. It just felt that way.
If anyone else saw, it was an instructor teaching a student. Nara instructed, and the mimic followed.
She could push it further, but Nara realized that this was enough. She was reaching the limits of her own mental capacity and mental energy.
“Are you ready?” Nara softly asked, her sword not stopping.
“Yeah,” the mimic said, “I’m ready. I’m glad you are safe.”
“Thanks for indulging my selfishness.”
“I didn’t really have much of a choice.”
“Sorry.”
“No hard feelings. I just did what I wanted—literally.”
The mimic could only surrender when defeat was inevitable.
It was the most effortless of swings. Neither too slow nor too fast, but just the right speed. It was as if the Mimic’s own movements and defenses had opened itself up, welcoming the blade to its throat. It was drawn to the blade—fate itself decreed the end, an inevitable outcome.
A singular, almost imperceptible, line of red drew across the mimic’s skin.
Time hung in the air for a moment. Nara staring at the mimic, and the mimic back at her.
The mimic was annihilated.
-------
-[Illusion of the True Mimic] has been wholly annihilated. It has been automatically looted.
* 10 diamond spirit coins
* 100 gold spirit coins
* 1000 silver spirit coins
* 10000 bronze spirit coins
* 100000 iron spirit coins
* 10000000 lesser spirit coins
* Immortal Crest
* Awakening Stone of the Doppelganger
-Loot has been sent to your [Astral Domain].
-------
She stared.
She stared some more.
She tilted her head and rubbed her eyes. She pinched her skin—it was pointless, she hurt all over.
“Excuse me, what?”