The Tower of Glass wasn't a place — it was a moment caught in amber.

Kael and Jorah stood at the edge of a city trapped mid-collapse. Shards of crystalline architecture hung in the air like broken stars, suspended by invisible threads. A river flowed upward. Birds hovered mid-flight. Even the clouds above seemed carved from glass.

Jorah rubbed his arms. "Tell me we're not supposed to walk into that."

Kael smirked. "If we weren't, the shard wouldn't be calling."

He stepped forward. The instant his boot crossed the threshold, the air rippled — a soundless chime vibrating through the frozen world. Time didn't move here. It waited.

Jorah followed reluctantly, muttering curses under his breath. His reflection followed him on every surface, moving a fraction too slow.

"This place gives me the creeps," he said. "Feels like we're being watched."

"We are," Kael said calmly. "By everything we might've been."

---

They made their way through the glass streets, every step echoing unnaturally loud. Buildings tilted mid-fall, frozen inches from collapse. A merchant's cart hovered mid-splinter. The smell of burned ozone lingered in the air.

"Who built this?" Jorah asked quietly.

Kael's eyes narrowed. "No one. This is what happens when time tries to heal itself."

He pointed to a cracked spire in the distance — a tower that shimmered like liquid sunlight. "The shard's in there."

"Fantastic," Jorah said. "Another haunted monument of your bad decisions."

Kael chuckled. "You're learning."

---

As they approached, Kael felt the shard's pull intensify — a deep, rhythmic hum under his skin. It wasn't calling him this time. It was warning.

They reached the tower's entrance: a vast archway carved from mirrored stone. As Kael crossed it, his reflection in the surface didn't follow.

He froze.

His reflection stood still, staring at him. Then it smiled.

"Hello, Kael."

Jorah took a step back. "Oh, hell no."

The reflection stepped out of the mirror like water solidifying into flesh. It looked exactly like Kael — same smirk, same stance — but its eyes were cold glass, reflecting everything and nothing.

Kael exhaled slowly. "Another echo?"

"Not quite." The reflection tilted its head. "I'm the part of you that didn't stop. The version that won."

Kael's grip tightened on his sword. "Define 'won.'"

"I killed them all," the reflection said simply. "The gods. The traitors. Time itself. I became the Chrono Blade."

Jorah blinked. "Wait, you're saying—"

Kael interrupted, voice sharp. "You're lying."

The reflection grinned. "Am I?"

---

The tower began to pulse with light — each flare syncing with the reflection's words. Shards of memory hung around them like floating glass screens: Kael's victories, his failures, his laughter soaked in blood. The reflection walked among them like a god admiring paintings.

"You still think you can control it," it said. "You still think rewriting time makes you free. But all you're doing is walking the same path again and again, pretending it's choice."

Kael's jaw tightened. "And you think being a puppet that cut his own strings is any better?"

The reflection laughed. "I didn't cut them. I burned them."

It raised its hand. The air warped — glass walls forming into jagged blades, all pointing at Kael.

"Let's see if you've learned anything," it said.

---

Kael moved first.

He blurred forward, his sword colliding with one of the glass blades. Sparks of blue and gold burst through the still air. The reflection parried effortlessly, their movements identical — same stances, same grin, same rhythm. It was like fighting his own shadow.

Jorah tried to circle behind but was slammed back by an invisible wave of pressure. "What the hell—!"

Kael shouted, "Stay back! This isn't your fight!"

"No argument there!" Jorah yelled, ducking as a glass shard flew past his head.

The reflection pressed harder, laughing with every clash. "You can't kill me, Kael. You are me."

Kael's blade locked with its twin. "Then killing you will just make me lighter."

They broke apart. The reflection raised a hand, and hundreds of shards lifted from the floor, glimmering like a storm of knives.

"Let's end the loop," it whispered.

---

Kael closed his eyes and took a single breath.

Then he smiled.

"Funny. That's what I said the first time."

He slammed his sword into the ground. The mark over his heart flared — light exploding outward. The world stuttered again, the reflection freezing mid-motion as Kael stepped outside of time for a heartbeat.

When he moved, it was with precision born of madness. He cut through the wave of shards, the air rippling with each swing. Every strike shattered another reflection, another timeline, another possible him.

The final blow struck the mirrored version through the chest. The reflection staggered back, eyes wide with disbelief.

Kael leaned close. "You're right about one thing. I am you. But I'm the one who learned to laugh."

He twisted the blade.

The reflection shattered — exploding into a thousand shards of light that rose like fireflies and vanished into the air.

---

Silence followed. The tower stopped pulsing. The air steadied.

Jorah crawled out from behind a fallen column. "So… we're alive?"

"For now," Kael said, sheathing his sword.

He walked to the center of the chamber where a crystal pedestal waited. Floating above it was the shard — brighter than the last, pulsing in harmony with his heartbeat.

Kael reached for it carefully. As his fingers brushed the surface, visions flared through his mind: entire lifetimes collapsing, the gods' laughter echoing, and one voice — cold and distant — whispering.

"We are watching, Kael Vorrion."

Kael's eyes snapped open. The shard dissolved into his palm, sinking into the mark over his heart. The light dimmed.

Jorah looked uneasy. "You okay?"

Kael nodded slowly. "Yeah. Just met my worst habit."

"Your ego?"

Kael grinned. "Close. My reflection."

---

They left the tower as the frozen world around them began to move again — the city finally exhaling after centuries of stillness. The sky cracked like glass, revealing dawn beyond.

Jorah shielded his eyes. "What now?"

Kael looked east, toward the horizon where a storm of black clouds brewed. "The third shard," he said. "It's waiting in the Rift."

"The Rift," Jorah repeated, grimacing. "Please tell me that's not what it sounds like."

Kael's grin widened. "A tear in the world that eats memories? Exactly that."

Jorah groaned. "I hate this job."

Kael started walking, laughter echoing across the glass plains. "Good. Hate keeps you alive."

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