One or Two?

"But why me?" Winter asks, his voice low but resolute, demanding an explanation.

Kali’s lips curl into a knowing smile, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and something far darker.

"You see, kings have honor…”

With deliberate, graceful steps, she moves past Winter, her presence like a shadow slipping through the crimson mist.

“Soldiers have bravery…”

Winter turns his head to follow her movements, his confusion growing as she approaches a figure kneeling on the blood-soaked ground behind him.

“Poets have heart..."

The figure is restrained, heavy chains wrapping around its limbs, binding it tightly, forcing it to bow low.

“But all you have... is rage."

Kali stops beside the figure, her hand reaching out, gently resting on its shoulder.

"And I need that rage," she continues, her voice soft, almost tender, yet carrying an edge that sends chills down Winter’s spine.

The restrained figure slowly stirs at her touch, lifting its head. As its face comes into view, Winter’s breath catches. The face staring back at him is his own—but twisted, darker, more sinister.

This is a reflection of himself, yet it is raw, unfiltered, and brimming with unrestrained fury. The eyes of his darker self blaze, a smoldering fire that has been trapped for far too long.

The dark Winter raises his head fully, making direct eye contact with the original. His lips curl into a mocking, bitter smile.

"What are you waiting for?" he growls, his voice deep and menacing, yet familiar, echoing in a way that makes Winter feel as if the words have come from within him.

Winter’s mind swirls with confusion and unease, caught between the chilling realization that this is a part of him and the unsettling clarity of Kali's words.

The dark version of himself, chained and kneeling, is not just a reflection—it is a manifestation of the rage he has buried deep within. And now, it is awake, beckoning him, daring him to let it loose.

"Don’t listen to him," a sudden voice calls out from behind Winter, cutting through the tension.

Winter turns, his eyes widening slightly as he sees another version of himself—one bathed in a soft, ethereal light. Unlike the dark version, this one exudes calmness, warmth, and a sense of peace.

The light version steps forward, his expression earnest, eyes filled with a gentle plea.

“He killed Monika, and he almost killed Yuui,” the light Winter says, his voice steady but laced with sorrow.

“I don’t think we can stop him next time. He’ll only bring more destruction.”

The dark Winter scoffs, his lips curling into a cruel, mocking smile.

“Weak... you are still weak,” he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain.

“You can’t even protect him by yourself, Light. Just like now, you’re trying to convince him to surrender, to accept death… how pathetic.”

Light Winter flinches at the accusation, but he doesn’t look away.

“If he had listened to me, if he had accepted death peacefully, we wouldn’t have hurt Yuui and so many others,” he says softly.

“He could have died without regret, without leaving a trail of pain.”

Dark Winter’s eyes narrow, and he steps closer, locking his gaze with Winter’s.

“While you were hopeless, powerless, and at the brink of death… who was the one that protected you? Who kept you alive?” His voice is harsh, almost accusing.

“I did. I am forever strong. And now, with this goddess’s protection, we can finally finish what we started. We can get our revenge.” His words burn with a fierce intensity, like a fire refusing to be extinguished.

Light Winter shakes his head, his eyes glistening with unspoken sadness.

“No... you’ve had your chance. You’ve brought nothing but chaos and suffering. It’s time to stop.”

“ Let us rest, let us live in peace. We don’t need to continue this cycle of rage.”

Winter stands between them, his heart pounding, torn between the two sides of himself. The dark side’s words are tempting, filled with promises of strength, of revenge, of never feeling weak again. But the light side’s voice is soothing, a call to peace, to finally put down his burdens and find some semblance of solace.

The dark Winter’s voice cuts through the silence.

“You want to rest? Rest is for the weak. We are not done yet. We can’t be done yet,” he hisses, his eyes flashing.

“Think about all the pain, all the suffering she caused. Do you want to let her get away with it? We have the power now. We have the chance.”

Winter’s hands clench into fists, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. He has been at war with himself for so long, and now, standing in this strange, surreal space, he is being forced to confront both sides—the rage that has driven him and the light that has tried to temper it.

“Enough!” Winter’s voice rings out, his tone commanding, echoing in the blood-drenched space.

He looks at the dark version of himself, his expression hardening.

“You had your fun. You’ve fed on my rage, my hate, my pain. But it’s over. I’m done being your puppet.”

Dark Winter’s smile fades, replaced by a look of shock, then anger. “You’re weak,” he spits. “You can’t live without me.”

“Maybe,” Winter says, his voice softer now, as he turns to the light version of himself.

“But I’m tired. I don’t want to keep fighting, keep hating. I just... want peace.”

The light Winter steps forward, a small, hopeful smile on his lips. “Then let’s leave this behind. Let’s start over. We can be free from this, all of it.”

The dark Winter’s eyes blaze, but for the first time, there is a flicker of uncertainty in them. He can see that the grip he has on Winter is slipping, and it enrages him.

“You’re making a mistake,” he growls. “We could have been invincible. Now you’ll be nothing.”

Winter looks back at him, and for the first time, there is no fear in his eyes. Only resolve.

“Maybe being ‘nothing’ is better than being a monster,” he says quietly. Then he turns away, leaving the dark version of himself behind, and takes a step toward the light.

“Don’t you want to see Yuui again?” Kali’s voice rings out, sharp and teasing, with a cunning smile spreading across her lips.

Winter halts in his tracks, his eyes widening as he turns to face her.

“I’m dead. It’s not possible,” he says, his voice strained, yet resolute. He starts walking away, his mind set on leaving this twisted realm and its dark offers behind.

Kali’s smile only widens, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

“Do you remember the dagger she stabbed you with?” she calls out, her tone sing-song, almost mocking.

Winter continues walking, not giving her the satisfaction of a response.

“It’s an artifact of Adonis, the god of reincarnation. A blade that grants a second chance to those killed by it.”

The words hang in the air, sinking into Winter’s mind. He freezes mid-step, the realization hitting him like a tidal wave. He has been ready to accept his fate, to move on, but now... the possibility of seeing Yuui again, of being reborn into the same world...

Behind him, the air shifts, and suddenly the sound of metal clanking echoes through the domain. The chains binding Dark Winter shatter, pieces falling away like fragments of a broken spell.

Dark Winter stands, stretching his limbs, a sinister grin spreading across his face as he revels in his newfound freedom.

The entire realm quivers as every version of Winter turns their gaze toward Kali—dark, light, and the countless shades in between. Rage, suspicion, and newfound clarity burn in their eyes, all directed at the goddess.

It is then that Winter understands. She is not the goddess who controls his fate, not the arbiter of reincarnation. She is a manipulator, a deceiver who has hijacked his soul and trapped him in this domain for her own schemes. She needs him, not because she has power over him, but because she wants to make him her pawn.

The realization brings a newfound strength, and Winter’s expression hardens as he glares at her, unafraid.

“Who are you to stop me now?” he asks, his voice cold, slicing through the heavy air. The words are a challenge, a declaration of defiance.

The domain begins to crack, fissures spreading across the sky and ground, splitting open to reveal a vast, black void beyond.

The once-solid blood-red atmosphere fractures like glass, jagged pieces floating away into the darkness. The chaos is overwhelming, as if the very fabric of Kali’s domain is coming undone.

Kali’s eyes widen, her confident mask faltering for a moment.

“You’ve got it all wrong… I’m not here to stop you. I’m here to help you,” she says, her voice quivering, the commanding tone giving way to something almost vulnerable. She takes a step back, trying to maintain control as everything crumbles around her.

But Winter can feel it—his soul is slipping away, drifting out of the domain’s grasp, the pull of the void growing stronger. He is no longer trapped, no longer bound by her schemes. He is leaving, escaping the twisted grip of this false goddess.

As the darkness swirls around him, enveloping him, Kali’s voice cuts through one last time, desperate, almost pleading. “Wait! ---“

But her words are drowned out by the roar of the collapsing domain, the chaos swallowing everything. Winter’s soul, flickering like a dying ember, slips through the cracks, vanishing into the endless black.

And as he fades from her realm, he leaves behind a final, fleeting image of Kali, her face twisted in frustration and fear, her lips still moving, trying to claw back the control she has so swiftly lost.