Maurice hovers in the air, eyes locked onto André—or rather, the entity controlling him. His crimson eyes glow with a manic brilliance, and a grin splits his face as he twirls the shadow scythe in anticipation.
Maurice’s eyes narrow, and he thrusts his hand forward. “Luminous Spear!”
A storm of incandescent beams shoots out with lethal intent.
André moves faster than light itself, dodging each spell with a smirk, his form a dark blur streaking through the air. He dances around the attacks, the scythe in his hand pulsing with a dark, living energy.
“Is that all you’ve got, Maurice? You’re weak—just like your father!” André’s taunt cuts through the din, dripping with disdain.
Maurice’s breath catches in his chest, the memory of his father’s death flashing in his mind—a scene painted with blood, the same red eyes staring back at him in that moment. His fists clench, anger surging like fire through his veins.
Before he can react, André appears behind him, his shadow scythe slicing through the space between them.
“Ugh!” Maurice gasps as a powerful kick hurls him backward.
-CRASH!
Maurice slams into the wall with a resounding thud, cracks spiderwebbing out from the point of impact as debris rains around him. He struggles to rise, the pain biting through his senses, but before he can fully recover, André is already in front of him, a predatory gleam in his crimson eyes.
André reaches out, his fingers brushing Maurice’s red hair, his eyes locking onto Maurice’s emerald ones.
“How about you show your true colors? You’re his descendant—show the true nature of your lineage!” he whispers, a maniacal grin spreading across his face.
Maurice grits his teeth, confusion, and rage warring within him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spits, his form shuddering before dissolving into a flock of glowing butterflies.
The theater groans, the space expanding outward as Maurice reforms behind André, the air now charged with his gathered Mana.
André’s eyes track the changes with a smirk. “Do you seriously think expanding the theater will save you?” He laughs, a sound devoid of joy. “This will end like every other universe… or life.”
André closes his eyes and opens them again, revealing the deadly black lines crisscrossing everything—the death lines. With a single, almost imperceptible swing of his scythe, he cuts through them at speeds only a god could fathom.
Stolen story; please report.
The entire illusion shatters instantly, the theater crumbling away to reveal a gaping red void speckled with white stars that blink coldly.
Maurice’s eyes widen, sweat beading on his brow. “What have you done?”
André turns, sensing Maurice’s Mana. A triumphant smirk curls his lips.
“So, you’re still alive, huh?” André mocks, scanning the shifting void for his opponent.
“So, you’re still alive, huh?”
“Huh?!” André’s head snaps back, his eyes widening as he sees a version of himself standing opposite him, mirroring his words with the same smirk.
“Huh?!”
“Huh?!”
“Huh?!”
The scene repeats, and suddenly, infinite versions of André surround him, each one a replica, their voices overlapping in a dissonant chorus.
“What the hell is going on?”
“What the hell is going on?”
The question echoes endlessly as André’s confident facade wavers for the first time, confusion twisting his features as he stares into an abyss of infinite versions of himself, each locked in an eternal reflection.
André’s eyes dart around in confusion as he realizes something crucial—the death lines, the ominous harbingers of annihilation he has relied on for countless millennia, are nowhere to be seen. His pulse quickens with a feeling he hasn't experienced in centuries: uncertainty.
“Hahahaha!”
The mocking laughter cuts through the air, drawing André’s attention to Maurice, who stands unfazed, a victorious smirk on his face. The laughter grates on André’s nerves, fueling his irritation.
“What did you do?” André’s voice is sharp, tinged with an edge of desperation.
“What did you do?”
“What did you do?”
“What did you do?”
Maurice's smirk deepens, his green eyes glistening with a newfound resolve. The power shift is palpable.
“I just cast a spell—the ultimate spell of the Reél family,” Maurice declares, his voice resonating with authority. “Since you’re too strong for me, I decided to trick you.”
With a flourish, Maurice flicks his fingers, and a dark blue tophat adorned with a matching ribbon materializes. It hovers above his head before settling into place. The gesture is as theatrical as it is intimidating, fitting for the spell that has just turned the battle in his favor.
“Now, time for the finale of this show, shall we?” Maurice says, the corners of his mouth lifting into a knowing grin.
Rage bubbles in André’s chest. Maurice’s sudden confidence and relaxed demeanor are infuriating.
“You think this can stop me?! You’re wrong!” André roars, surging forward. His shadow wings unfurl, slicing through the void as he propels himself at Maurice with deadly speed. Yet, no matter how fast he flies, their distance remains unchanged.
‘What’s happening?’ the entity within André thinks. He, a being that has witnessed the birth and death of countless stars, has never encountered such a phenomenon.
Maurice chuckles, the sound reverberating through the infinite space of the shattered reality. “Now, for the final trick,” he says, his voice carrying an edge of finality.
He raises his hand, aiming it directly at André. With a quiet but powerful chant, he speaks the incantation: “!erdnA nihtiw ytitne eht ,peels ot oG”
André’s eyes widen as the words wash over him. Sudden, overwhelming drowsiness courses through his body, and the red gleam in his eyes fades to their familiar, soft brown. The manic grin vanishes, replaced by a slack expression as consciousness disappears.
Maurice sighs in relief as André’s body limps, the shadow scythe dissolving into thin air. Swiftly, he flies toward André, catching him effortlessly in mid-air and cradling him gently.
“André…” Maurice whispers, the tension in his shoulders easing as he looks down at his former friend’s peaceful face. A bittersweet smile crosses his lips. The truth that has eluded him for years is now clear—it was not André who killed his father; it was the entity within.
For now, that darkness is subdued, and at this moment, Maurice allows himself the fragile hope that perhaps, one day, André can be saved from it entirely.