The Shadow Ren

Inside the cold iron prison chamber, the echoes of the recent fight still lingered. Dust and fragments of stone hung in the air, drifting like mist. Magnus lay unconscious, his body broken and bloodied, the floor beneath him cracked from the impact of Ren’s blows. But Ren stood there like nothing had happened—no panting, no trembling, just standing calm, almost bored. His hands were still loose at his sides, a faint grin tugging at his lips.

“Ren! What the hell?!” Kazuma’s voice thundered through the room as he rushed forward, sword still sheathed but ready. His face was twisted with shock and anger. “You didn’t have to beat him like that! He’s down! That was overkill!”

Ignis wasn’t calm either. His flames flickered to life around his fists, heat rippling in the already cold room. His eyes burned with rage—not just because Magnus was defeated, but because Ren had struck a comrade, a member of his own group.

“Ren…” Ignis’s voice was sharp, deadly serious.

Kazuma held out a hand, trying to cool things before they spiraled. “Ignis, wait! Let’s talk this through! We don’t know what’s going on yet!”

But Ren didn’t flinch. He didn’t apologize, didn’t explain. He just stood there with that smile—wide, sharp, a little too calm. It wasn’t the Ren they knew.

Kazuma swallowed, a chill crawling up his spine. Ren had lost his temper in battles before, sure—but this? This wasn’t losing control. This was calculated, deliberate.

“Ren,” Kazuma said carefully, drawing his sword slowly now, the sound of steel ringing in the quiet chamber. “Tell me what’s going on. What happened to you after you fell? Did you hit your head? Did something happen down there?”

Ren tilted his head slightly, the grin never leaving his face. “Are you going to attack me, Kazuma?”

“If you don’t explain yourself…” Ignis stepped forward, his flames burning brighter, licking the ground at his feet. “I just might.”

Kazuma glanced at Ignis—his friend’s temper was already flaring. But Ren didn’t back down.

“Do it, then,” Ren said simply, almost amused.

The tension snapped. Ignis, never one to hold back when challenged, thrust a hand forward and launched a burst of fire. The flames roared across the short distance, slamming into Ren’s chest point-blank.

But Ren didn’t move.

When the fire cleared, he was still standing exactly where he had been. Not a scorch mark on him. His coat wasn’t even singed. He stood there, completely unharmed, his grin growing sharper.

Ignis’s jaw tightened. “What the hell are you?”

Ren’s answer came not in words, but in movement.

In a blur, he was across the room. The ground cracked under his feet as he launched forward, faster than their eyes could track. His fist drove deep into Ignis’s stomach. The sound was like a thunderclap—Ignis doubled over instantly, the wind ripped from his lungs, blood splattering the floor as he coughed it up.

“Kazuma—!”

But before he could react, Ren’s heel whipped around. The kick caught Kazuma square in the chest, the force sending him flying backward like a rag doll. He hit the ground hard, sliding across the cold iron floor, his sword skittering out of reach.

“Ren! What the hell, man?!” Kazuma groaned, clutching his ribs as he struggled to get up.

Ren didn’t answer. His steps were slow, deliberate, as he turned back toward Ignis, who was still on the ground, clutching his stomach. And then he started kicking.

Once. Twice. Again. Each blow was brutal, merciless, the sound of bone and flesh echoing in the prison. Ignis gritted his teeth, but pain broke through in raw cries. This wasn’t a spar. This wasn’t training. Ren was trying to crush him.

Kazuma forced himself to his feet, rage flaring in his chest despite the pain. He lunged forward, ready to stop Ren no matter what it took.

But before he could get close, a blur shot past him.

A shadow. Fast. Precise.

It closed the distance in an instant, and with a sharp, powerful motion, it launched itself into the air.

CRACK!

A flying kick slammed into Ren’s back. The impact was so strong that Ren actually stumbled forward, dropping his focus on Ignis. He straightened quickly, spinning around to face whoever dared strike him.

And then—he froze.

Standing there, in the flickering torchlight of the iron prison, was… Ren.

Another Ren.

Same build. Same clothes. Same sharp eyes. But this one had no smile. Its expression was cold, empty.

The noise of rushing footsteps echoed from the far corridor. The others had finally caught up, drawn by the sounds of battle. Rachel, Melissa, Alex, Sakura, Lisa, and Marie came skidding into view, their eyes widening at the scene: Ignis bleeding on the floor, Kazuma struggling to breathe, Ren standing across from… himself.

“What the hell is happening?!” Kazuma coughed, forcing himself to his knees. “Now there’s two of you?!”

Rachel’s eyes went wide as she saw the copy. “That’s a shadow!” she shouted from across the chamber. “It’s one of those things—we fought one before! It can take the form of people!”

Kazuma gritted his teeth, groaning as he pushed himself up. “That explains everything…”

Ren’s grin didn’t fade. But this time, it wasn’t amusement—it was something darker.

Now both Rens stood staring at each other. One was the fake, that twisted grin on his face like he was enjoying every second. The other, the real Ren, cold eyes, tense, angry—not because he was scared, but because this thing had been hurting Kazuma.

Ren didn’t wait. He suddenly burst forward, no warning, just raw speed, and drove his fist straight into the shadow Ren’s stomach. The impact sent the fake staggering back a few steps before falling, but even on the ground it kept that freaky smile, like it was mocking him.

“He’s stronger than you, Ren,” Kazuma muttered, finally managing to push himself up after getting thrown earlier.

Magnus groaned, clutching his side as he started to wake. “Too strong…” his voice was weak, but the words carried weight.

Shadow Ren moved first this time. It darted forward, faster than the real one, and its fist smashed across Ren’s face. The sound cracked through the iron chamber. Ren stumbled back but came right back swinging.

The two of them collided again and again, fists flying, boots scraping against metal. Every punch was solid, sharp, the sound of knuckles on flesh echoing in the cold prison. It wasn’t pretty—just two fighters beating each other down.

Alex, who had been leaning against the wall catching his breath, saw his opening. His hands trembled as he forced some mana back into them, then slammed them to the floor. The ground under the shadow’s feet shifted, swallowing its legs into heavy, thick mud.

“Ren! Now! Finish it!” Alex yelled, straining to hold the magic.

Ren didn’t hesitate. He sprinted forward, teeth gritted, every muscle tight. He unleashed everything—punch after punch, straight to the face, the ribs, the stomach, the chest. Each hit was fast and brutal, his arms blurring as he tried to smash the copy out of existence.

But his energy burned fast. His breath came heavy, his arms slowed, and finally he stopped, chest heaving, sweat on his face. The shadow was still trapped, its head low.

Then it looked up.

Same smile. Same empty, taunting grin. Not a mark on it.

“This thing…” Alex’s voice cracked as the spell wavered.

The shadow tore free like the hold was nothing, mud and stone breaking apart. It moved without a sound and was on Ren before anyone could react.

The first punch went straight into Ren’s stomach, forcing a gasp out of him. Another slammed across his jaw, his head snapping to the side. Then another, harder, faster. It grabbed his collar and kept going—fists raining down like hammers, each hit heavier than the last.

Ren’s body could take the hits, but his mind couldn’t. His vision blurred, his knees gave, his arms dropped to his sides.

“Ren!” Kazuma shouted, but the voice sounded far away.

Finally, the shadow’s fist cracked across Ren’s temple. His body went limp, falling to the cold floor. He was still breathing, but completely out.

Even someone with an unbreakable body can only stay conscious for so long.

Now the shadow Ren looked around the room. The strongest one was already down, and the rest were nothing but small fries to him.

Everyone turned their eyes to the shadow, bracing themselves for what was about to come.

To be continued...