Another reflection lunged from the side, grabbing his arm. This one was leaner, eyes hollow like after a bad night. "Remember that girl in training? The one who picked him over you? And then he rejected her, but still she chose him over you. You told yourself it was nothing. But deep down..."

It twisted his arm, forcing him to look at a nearby mirror. In it, he saw himself, not the fighter, but the kid version, watching from the shadows as Nova laughed with her, easy as breathing.

Michael yanked free, shadows exploding from his core in a wave. They slammed into the reflections, knocking a few back.

One shattered against the wall, dissolving into wisps of smoke that hung in the air like accusations. But the others reformed, stepping out of the mirrors again, endlessly. The room felt smaller now, the circle tightening.

"You're not getting it," said a new one, this voice softer, almost sad. "To win, you have to face it. All of it. The envy that's eating you alive. Or it'll consume you. Piece by piece."

Michael backed up until his shoulders hit a mirror behind him. Cold glass pressed into his jacket. He could feel the hum again, deeper now, pulling at his thoughts.

Flashes hit him, Zane saving that Adventurer in the Greed trial, the crowd chanting his name. Elesch was evolving mid-fight, pushing past her limits, while Michael was stuck in a room full of jealous mirrors, jealous versions of himself. Why them? Why not him?

For the past two years, he had only evolved one pillar in the Circle of Pillars, from A-rank to S-rank. He thought that after getting high enough with no evolution, he could immediately get a larger boost for when he did evolve, but his plan was failing miserably.

The reflections closed in, hands outstretched. Not attacking yet, just reaching. Their touches were light at first, fingers brushing his shoulders, his arms.

But where they touched, his shadows weakened, unraveling like old thread. He felt it in his chest, a hollow ache spreading. His knees buckled a little, and he caught himself, breathing hard.

"No," he growled, pushing back. "This is bullshit. You're not me. You're just... echoes."

He summoned more shadows, weaving them into a barrier around himself. The darkness pulsed, holding them at bay for a moment. The reflections paused, heads tilting like curious dogs.

One in the front, the first one, with the grin, leaned in, nose almost touching the shadow wall. "Echoes? We're the parts you ignore. The envy you shove down so you can play the good teammate. But it's there, Mike. Always has been. And if you don't break us... We'll break you."

The barrier cracked. A hand slipped through, grabbing his wrist. Cold, like ice under skin. Michael's shadows recoiled, and with them went a sliver of his strength.

He yanked away, but another hand caught his ankle from below, pulling. The floor mirror rippled, and he saw his face there, pale, eyes wide with that same fear he'd felt watching Nova rise through the fog like it was nothing.

Panic clawed up his throat. He stomped down, shadows spiking into the glass. It shattered in a spray of shards, but the reflection below just laughed, climbing up through the hole like it was stairs. More joined it, the room filling with their voices now, a chorus of his doubts.

"You're nothing without us," they chanted, soft at first, then louder. "Envy made you strong. Envy kept you fighting. Without it, what are you?"

Michael swung wildly, shadows lashing out in arcs. He caught two, three, dissolving them into nothing. But for every one he broke, two more stepped from the mirrors.

Sweat stung his eyes. His arms burned from the effort. The ache in his chest deepened, like something was uncoiling inside, feeding on the chaos.

He dropped to one knee, the circle pressing closer. Their faces blurred together, Nova's confidence in his features, Elesch's quiet determination, Adam's raw grit. All the things he wanted, staring back as monsters.

"I... I have to end this," he whispered, more to himself than them.

His mind raced for a way out. The inscription: Conquer your reflection. Not by fighting, maybe. By... accepting? No, that couldn't be it. He thought of the other trials, how everyone would be pushing beyond their limits to have a lick of their victory. They had faced it head-on, and so should he.

The first reflection knelt in front of him, eye to eye. "Then face us, Mike. All the way through, that's your only chance at escaping us."

Michael met its gaze. For a second, he saw himself, not the fighter, not the envious shadow. Just a guy who'd lost too much, wanted too hard. The hand on his wrist tightened. The shadows in his veins flickered, dimming.

And then the mirrors laughed. They kept on laughing, as Michael blocked their guttural laughter from invading his ear, as blood started to trickle down his ears, he felt the softness of the blood trickling down, baffled by the revelation.

He had to face his reflections head-on; he couldn't sit still and whimper like a little bitch, he had to face them, control them, eliminate them, so that he could eliminate these insecurities he had embedded inside them.

He tried to stand up, but it was hard considering his power was constantly getting drained, and his hands were still trying their best to protect his ears. Though failing miserably as more blood trickled down, causing him to lose some balance as he tried to get up.

He folded inward like a child, trying to distract his mind from this place he was at to a nicer, more relaxing place, but all the reflections invaded the happy place as well. Laughing and grinning demonically, as if possessed by Satan himself.

He closed his eyes as his brain started to shut down. The laughter and words from his reflections were inaudible, incomprehensible, as he reached rock bottom.

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