The white space grew to the size of an entire world. But soon, it was marred by splashes of blood, visions of swords, and the echo of screams. Flashbacks of moments I’d somewhat forgotten started to surface—the sting of my mother's first slap. A painful kick accompanied the chill from my father's initial look of disappointment. The growing indifference in my sister's eyes. The jeers from random thugs and passersby for being manaless and then cursed. As if my exile from family wasn’t enough, being pushed further to the fringes of human society was even more heartrending.

These memory fragments fused, coalescing into something darker, something far more terrible. I saw myself repeatedly attempting to force mana into my body, a futile effort that left me spent, the long nights of desperate concentration, of trying to gather mana in a formation I'd painstakingly drawn on the floor of my old room, started to replay. The progressive decline of my health was all too apparent: the increasingly visible blue veins, the bouts of bloody coughing, the eyes reddening from strain, my skin turning pale, and finally, streaks of white beginning to thread through my hair.

Suddenly, everything came to an abrupt halt. Blinking, I saw something form before me. It was an image of myself unlike any I'd seen before. This thing was imbued with mana, hints of coveted mana flowing beneath its nearly translucent skin. If that were all, perhaps the sense of horror wouldn't be as intense. But its eyes... they were inhuman.

These eyes radiated corruption. They bore a conqueror’s gaze that seemed to desire to consume all it saw, The eyes of a tyrant bent on destruction. The iris glowed a ghostly white against a pitch-black sclera. This was the demon within.

The entity's mouth curled into an eternal smile. "What's the matter, me? Ready to lose your mind yet?" Its voice was as chilling as the rest of the surroundings. The environment changed again upon his arrival. Decay seemed to spread from its being, spawning rotting towers around us. A vast perimeter of black, rusted steel chains sprouted from the ground, forming a restrictive circle around me and this abominable reflection.

It looked like me, but it was unmistakably not me. What exactly was this thing that invaded this part of my mind? Its sheer presence was corrupting this once-white space. The hostility from it was palpable, its resentment puzzling. What reason did it have to resent me? Yet, along with these negative emotions, an eternal smile adorned its face. Mana coalesced around it effortlessly, forming a giant orb of energy behind it. This was a clear sign of at least a magistrate mage, if not higher.

My confusion at all this grew, but one thing was clear: I was in grave danger. I couldn't be sure of the damage this corrupted version of me could do, but my curiosity about it was non-existent.

What are you?" I demanded.

The entity responded without missing a beat, its smile ever-present. "What do you mean? I'm you. The one you wish to be. You with mana, pure mana veins, a mana body, and the acceptance of the family you've always desired."

The entity gestured, summoning three familiar figures from the nothingness. My parents and sister appeared before me, their appearances ruined by those same haunting eyes, the white irises stark against the consuming black, and that unending, disturbing smile plastered onto their faces. But what truly rattled me was their gaze - one of respect, recognition, and perhaps even awe, especially from my sister, whose radiant admiration contrasted sharply with her usual indifference. But then, just as swiftly as they'd appeared, they were gone again, erased with a flick of the thing's hand.

“I’m devoid of the grotesque mana veins that mar your body with their bruised and blue tangle. I don’t bear the dead eyes or the half-white hair showing your decay. I lack the weakness that is you. How can you keep moving forward while so weak in body and spirit? Your mental state is as ruined as your physical one. Let me take over. It’s for our good,” it stated. The creature’s words were as egotistical as they come.

The eternal smile never left its mouth, even as it spoke with a facial expression that didn’t match the words or even the tone of its voice. How could it say such terrible things so easily? Bringing to bear my deep-rooted insecurities with the happiest expression? That thing takes joy in my face, twisting in shame and guilt.

“I am the product of all those rituals you practiced. The self-loathing you whispered to yourself, the hours you spent sitting within that mana formation. The harsh mana injections you forced upon yourself. Of all the rare mana materials and reagents you dared to steal to build a low-tier mana body. I am the embodiment of your unchecked emotions, your deep-seated insecurities, your unending fears.”

This thing even knew all I had done to try and change my fate. For years, I never lost hope, and in pursuing mana, I crossed lines I never imagined I could, ones that I now profoundly regret: The thefts, the near-death experiences at the hands of furious mages, all of it. I wonder now if my exile, my disgrace, was a mercy, an escape instead of the execution I might have otherwise faced.

Before the abandonment, my family tried to force a mana body into me, using some of the best mana reagents money could buy; it had all been useless. And now, this abomination before me was twisting the knife into those old, lingering wounds with a glee that made my blood run cold.

The thing's grin widened further as if it could see past my attempts to control my emotions. Its words struck at the heart of my insecurities, causing fear to course through me.

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"But enough of that," it said, its voice taking on a lighter, almost crazy, joyful tone that contrasted the gravity of its words. "Once I take over, you won't have to worry about anything again."

As it spoke, a mana storm began to gather around the demon. Behind it, patterns of runes started to form, weaving into spell circles. There were four in total: a blue circle over a green one, then a red one crossing through both. But the final one caught my attention and sent my heart rate through the roof: a black circle pulsing with familiar, terrifying energy.

“Red, blue, green and…. black.” I could never forget those spell circles. They were directly related to a deep-seated insecurity of mine, after all. r

"Yes, indeed," it affirmed with a tone that dripped with insidious delight. "It's the spell you've always longed to cast but never could. The spell your father and sister cast effortlessly right in front of you. The Black Drake Summoning."

“That’s my… “My voice gave out; I couldn’t finish my words.

“Our father’s hereditary spell. The demon laughed gleefully.

As it chanted, the circles of runes behind it ignited with magical energy, the symbols dancing as they blended into one colossal, imposing array. From it emerged the head of a monstrous entity in the form of a drake but the size of a full-fledged dragon. The sheer size of it and the power it radiated made my breath hitch in my throat.

How could it command such an enormous amount of mana? How could it perform a spell I had only ever dreamt of casting? Despair gripped me as I watched the black drake materializing from the spell array.

I felt helpless, trapped in a nightmare rapidly becoming too real. I couldn't let this thing take over me. I couldn't let it consume my consciousness. What could I possibly do to stop it?

Calm down.

My concentration grew to a sharp point. All right, I was calm; what came next?

Well, looking at it, this was MY mind, damn it. Some unholy creatures of mana and negativity have no hold over me here. How could I grasp the power of mind here? Thinking of sealing the mana around? No, that didn’t work. Say it out loud?

“Seal!”

Damnit, even the Drake looked at me like I was stupid.

What was it then? Did I have no power, even in my mind? A part of me refused to believe that. Suppose my body's actions and mind's ability could create that thing before me. Then that meant it had power; I could learn how to use it.

Would that aura help? All I knew what to do with it still at this point, besides its passive effects, was circulate it. Trying that, I noticed an odd trait. Unlike in the real world, there wasn’t a limit on the circulation speed here; our limiters were gone.

That explains why that corrupted me had so much power so quickly. No, it wasn’t that strong naturally; it was the power of this space. The aura circulation continued faster, and the decay immediately next to me reversed. Instead of turning back into a blank white, it became closer to the scene of the pond clearing on the day I met The Moth.

The demon, sensing a shift in the power dynamic, faltered. Its formerly eternal smile cracked, and its summoning ritual slowed dramatically. The drake slowly manifesting was now barely more than a head and neck, frozen amid its birth. The demon attempted to close the distance between us but was harshly repelled by one of the encircling chains.

Suddenly, it clicked. A specific set of rules were here, providing some protection. The demon couldn't simply invade and seize control; a ritual or mental duel had to be done, much like the one unfolding now.

The slowness of the drake's summoning puzzled me, given its typical swift casting speed. This must be another rule. Since I don’t know the spell's structure, this mindscape struggles to recreate it. The power here may be unlimited, but the knowledge feeding this place is the same as I had before.

The intense circulation overwhelmed me, but instead of causing harm, a torrent of aura surged toward my palms. Vortexes formed on both hands, rapidly pulling in the ambient mana around me.

The manifestation of me - the corrupted version - glared with palpable anger. Its mana globe began to bubble and churn as it initiated a new spell, spawning a vortex that competed with my own, disrupting my absorption of the mana. In this frenzy of activity, I wondered where all the absorbed mana was going. It was flowing into me and then... vanishing.

“Why are you resisting me?” it questioned, a mix of frustration and disbelief in its voice. “Isn’t this what you always wanted? The mana, the respect of our family who discarded us, the recognition of those who scorned us. It could be yours if you would allow this to happen.”

There was a strain of anger, intertwined with frustration, in its voice. However, I decided not to respond. Regardless of what it suggested, no matter what my heart desired, I was determined to earn it through my efforts, not through this corrupted version of me. I was sure there had to be another way.

Our vortexes clashed, fighting for dominance. The corrupt incarnation of me began hurling spells at me in rapid succession. Dark blue bolts of energy, flaming fireballs, and electrifying lightning strikes were launched in my direction. They were all useless. The two vortexes consumed them, growing in power though not in size. Soon enough, the left vortex began to swallow the decay surrounding us, while the right one had grown powerful enough to absorb all the ambient mana on its own. The entity's eternal smile had utterly disappeared, replaced by a face contorted by pure anger, hatred, and, surprisingly... jealousy.

"Why won't you accept me? I'm simply trying to give you everything you've ever desired! I can take care of all those problems that weigh you down. I could get you out of that encampment and that cell. Even that mage wouldn't stand a chance against the power I could wield with your mana sealed away by the blessing. Do you even realize how much mana you've tried to inject into yourself over the years? Anyone else who attempted such a method would be long dead. It's only due to your body, blessed by this world, that you're still alive, you fool!"

The demon's rant continued, but my ears tuned it out. The sound of the suction was all I heard. The decay around me was nearly gone. Even the rusted black chains had turned normal again. The decaying towers transformed into trees, swords into plants and grass. Small animals and birds began to appear. The circle around us transformed into a pond, with both of us standing on the water's surface.

Once the pond was fully formed, the moth manifested directly within my mind. It seemed to signal the end of the battle. Two chains sprouted from the vortexes, seemingly forged from my own will. The spell summoning the drake had shattered, vanishing from my mind entirely.

The chains pierced the mana-corrupted me. In its final moments, the eternal smile returned to its face, accompanied by an odd sense of acceptance. Its gaze was that of a predator, unyielding and determined, signaling it hadn't given up despite my win this time.

“I’ll be back, you know, stronger the next time too. One day, I will become you.”

With those words, it was torn apart and absorbed by the two vortexes. The moth landed gently on the crown of my head after I collapsed, my hands resting behind me. The soft fluttering of its wings offered comfort. The ordeal was over, at least for now. Each flutter of the moth's wings lulled me further into tranquility, a soothing sensation washing over me. And then, I awoke.