Unease roiled within him as the wolf collapsed, its body dissipating into mist. The axe vanished from his hand in a shimmer of light. Before he could catch his breath, her hand clamped down on his shoulder.
"Was it... someone else?" Her voice wavered, hesitant, as if the words weighed heavily on her tongue.
His silence answered her louder than words.
"Was it?!" she yelled, gripping his arm with enough force to make him wince.
"It didn't feel like me!" he snapped, his voice raw. "But I was there—watching, helpless, like a passenger in my own body."
She tightened her grip, her frustration palpable. "That doesn't explain anything!"
"I don't know how to explain it!" he shouted, voice cracking. "They weren't my actions. I swear..." His voice trailed off, the edge of his anger dulled by guilt.
She released him with a harsh shove, stepping back as she jammed her hand into the pocket of her hoodie. "Let's just move. The smell's making me sick."
Before she could leave, the axe appeared in front of her, its cold, unrelenting steel glowing faintly.
"Wolves don't hunt alone, even if they're monstra. Stay close," he said, striding toward the door.
"I can fight too," she muttered, her fists clenched.
He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze sharp but softened by concern. "Not now. Rest. You'll only drain yourself."
In the hallway, his steps slowed, his eyes narrowing at the sight above. A wolf crouched on the ceiling, its claws digging into the surface with unnatural ease.
"Stay back!" he barked, shoving her behind him.
The wolf lunged, and he reacted instantly. Ducking low, he struck upward with a powerful punch, slamming the creature into the wall. The impact cracked the plaster, and before it could recover, his axe materialized in his grip. He swung upward, cleaving the beast in two.
A distant howl echoed through the corridors, low and haunting. He stilled, the sound sending a shiver down his spine.
"Hey," he muttered, glancing back at her. "Is it even worth fighting anymore?" His lips twitched into a bitter smile. "There's nothing left to go back to."
Her expression hardened, though her voice softened. "They'd want us to keep going."
He closed his eyes, a tired sigh escaping him. "Guess there's no quitting then," he muttered, gripping the air. The space around them shimmered as he prepared to teleport.
"Wait—" she grabbed his shirt.
The world warped, and the two appeared outside. Snow fell steadily, muffling the world in a cold, quiet blanket.
"What are you doing here?!" he shouted, turning to her in alarm. His words caught in his throat when he saw it.
A massive wolf stood before them, its scarred white eye glowing faintly. Weapons jutted from its back, and its claws gouged deep into the snow.
His knuckles whitened around the axe as he stepped in front of her. He pointed forward, summoning a clone of himself armed with an identical weapon. The double charged at the wolf, leaping nimbly to avoid its swiping claws.
The real him hurled his axe, controlling its trajectory with an outstretched hand. It sliced into the wolf's neck, but the wound was shallow.
Behind him, she raised her hand, summoning a pale blue light. A spirit began to take form, its translucent shape wavering like mist. Her body faltered, smoke curling from her arm as her strength gave out. She collapsed into the snow, the half-formed spirit dissipating.
Her fall went unnoticed, muffled by the snow.
He gritted his teeth, summoning his axe back as he leaped into the air. The weapon caught him mid-flight, carrying him forward like a snowboard. Sparks flickered from his free hand as he aimed at the wolf, but no lightning came.
"Damn it!" he cursed, frustration mounting.
The wolf lunged, jaws wide. He swung the axe, embedding it deep into its mouth. Frost crept from the blade, freezing flesh and bone. He yanked the weapon free, shattering the frozen tissue in a spray of crimson shards.
Behind him, she stirred, her appearance changed. Her hair had lightened to brown, her eye colors reversed—blue now where orange once burned. She watched, dazed, as he stood facing the wolf, exhaustion weighing on him.
"Is that really your limit?" a voice taunted, low and unfamiliar.
He stiffened, glancing around. The voice wasn't his clone's. It wasn't his other self.
"Not now," he muttered, shaking it off.
The wolf charged again, its massive form a blur of fur and rage.
He dropped the axe, electricity crackling along his arms as he raised them skyward. Lightning struck him, illuminating the snow in stark flashes. His body lifted off the ground, energy coursing through him in wild arcs.
The wolf leaped, its jaws snapping toward him.
He screamed, releasing all the built-up energy in a blinding burst. The explosion shattered the silence, the air alive with static.
When the light faded, she uncovered her face to see the wolf gone, its remains scattered as ash in the wind. He knelt in the snow, trembling.
He tried to stand, using the axe for support, but his legs gave out.
She moved toward him, her heart pounding, her voice trembling. "Why do you keep doing this to yourself?"
His only answer was a broken, bitter laugh.
She stood behind him as he lay on the ground, the snow still falling and the axe lying beside him. The weapon disappeared in a flicker of light as his breathing grew slower. Her gaze dropped to her hands, trembling slightly, before she lifted the hoodie to glance at the scar etched into her torso. Closing her eyes, she sighed deeply, then knelt to turn him onto his back. His gaze met hers, wide and startled.
"I should end your life right here and now," she said, her voice cold, but her hand extended to help him up.
His words came weak and halting. "Are you... the other one?"
Her hand froze mid-reach, and her expression shifted, a flicker of realization crossing her face. "That... really wasn't you then." She muttered the words as if to herself before grabbing him under the arm and hoisting him up, slinging his weight over her shoulder.
"Sor—" he began, but she cut him off sharply. "Explain later. Shut up for now."
They trudged through the snow, his steps faltering as she bore most of his weight. Turning a corner, she paused at the sight of what appeared to be a crumbling castle wall, a jagged hole offering an entrance. She hastened toward it, half-dragging him inside.
The air inside the breach was damp and bitterly cold. A quick glance revealed a storage room filled with broken crates and dusty barrels. Spotting a door, she pushed through it, emerging into a long, dark hallway. The wind howled behind them as she kicked the door shut and conjured a small flame in her palm. The dim light did little to cut through the oppressive blackness, so she moved cautiously, every step deliberate.
"You should probably find a room without me," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "You can always come back."
Her response was immediate, clipped. "No. It's better when I know where you are."
He coughed, his body trembling against hers as his temperature continued to drop. "Seriously... you don't need to carry me."
"I said no! I still need an explanation from you. I know you're trying to find an excuse to dip out on me." Her tone was sharp, but beneath it was an undercurrent of frustration and fear.
"I can't leave you alone, not now. We're way too far from civilization for me to leave you alone." He tried to reassure her, his breath labored.
She shook her head, her voice lowering. "I don't care. I'm not her."
They reached another door, and she shoved it open to reveal a modest, sparsely decorated room with a few beds pushed against the walls. She quickly made her way to one of them and eased him down onto it.
"Don't fall asleep." Her command was firm, leaving no room for argument.
She moved to a nearby nightstand, lighting the candle atop it with her flame before snuffing the fire in her hand. Carrying the lit candle, she illuminated the others in the room, revealing its faded elegance—a guest room, likely abandoned long ago.
Sitting on the edge of the bed beside him, she broke the silence. "Listen, I need you to confirm it wasn't you."
He let out a hollow laugh, his eyes glassy. "How?"
"I—" she started to reply, but he cut her off, his voice rising with a mix of anguish and self-loathing. "You may never trust me again after that. They died because I was unable to do anything—because me and him failed them!"
His words cracked, his façade shattering before her eyes. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking. "Tell me, what can I even do for both of you?" he sobbed, his voice raw.
She hesitated, unsure how to answer, as his arms began to emit faint smoke, the telltale sign of his power stirring. Her worry deepened as he suddenly reached out and grabbed her arms, his grip trembling.
"I... I'm so sorry. I couldn't help any of them. I let someone you care about die. I tarnished what he promised," he choked out, his voice breaking.
She freed her arms and, acting on impulse, wrapped them around him. "It's fine! Let's just take things one step at a time," she said, her voice firm but soothing.
His breathing hitched as he clung to her, tears streaming down his face. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice barely audible against her shoulder.
She held him tighter, feeling the weight of his guilt as though it were her own. "We'll figure it out. Together."
The snow outside continued to fall, silent and unrelenting, as they sat there, the flickering candlelight the only witness to their fragile truce.
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