Extra To Protagonist

Nathan nodded slowly. "Crazy." Not a question, but a verdict.

Seraphina finally spoke. Quiet. "That darkness—can it come back?"

Merlin looked at the hallway. The exit door behind him was already starting to seal quietly, as if annoyed by being open too long. He considered saying No. Considered saying Maybe. Then chose honest.

"It's gone for now. But that kind of magic… it doesn't just vanish. It lingers."

He faced them all. His gaze landed on Elara and Mae, still so young, still processing. His voice softened a fraction. "But we got it. All of us."

There was a pause. Then Flint let out a slow breath, more relief than joy. Dion rubbed his shoulder and tried to pull a joke.

"So, is snack time real now?"

but his voice cracked gathering laughter from the group.

That laughter, it didn't feel earned. It felt necessary. And safe. They closed ranks, each of them touching shoulders, coats brushing loose gear. No speeches. No dramatic heroics.

Just a moment to breathe. Together.

Merlin looked at each of their faces. None were the same as before. Not from pride. Not from struggle. From survival.

He felt mana pulse in his veins again, steady now. Present. Not a flicker. Not glitching.

They had survived.

This was regroup. Rest was next.

He allowed himself one silent thought.

'Gods can wait.'

And as they moved forward, shoulder to shoulder. He knew they weren't done. Not yet.

But they had earned the pause.

As they walked, the lights ahead flickered through the corridor's bends, each step carrying them deeper into whatever came next.

—

They moved to the wall, quiet, deliberate. No speeches. No high-fives. Just a bunch of half-broken teenagers breathing like they'd been thrown through a meat grinder and came out on the other side without a manual.

Merlin sat first. Shoulders loose, back against stone. Not relaxed. Just not pretending anymore.

Nathan settled across from him, slow, like his legs didn't fully believe it was over.

Dion dropped down without comment. Elbow resting on one knee. His eyes weren't tracking anything. Just vacant. The kind of blank that only comes after too many near-deaths in too short a time.

Flint didn't sit. He stood at the edge of the group, still watching the corridor. Probably didn't even realize his hand hadn't let go of his weapon.

Mae was quiet. Knees pulled close. Her head down. Not crying. Just… quiet.

Seraphina leaned against the far wall. Breathing even. But her eyes hadn't left Merlin since they stepped out of the last room.

Elara crouched beside her. Checking her own arm for damage. She said nothing either.

Nathan broke the silence first. Of course he did.

"So… I'm just gonna ask it. What the hell was that?"

Merlin looked up.

Didn't answer right away.

'Careful,' he thought. 'Don't lie. Don't overshare. Thread the middle.'

He nodded once, like the words needed clearance to leave his mouth.

"Boss-level undead construct. Full of residual dark magic. Probably stitched together as a failsafe. One last test to push us to failure."

Nathan whistled low. "Yeah. Cool. Awesome. Ten outta ten dungeon design."

Then his eyes narrowed, just enough to be noticed. "You knew it was coming?"

Merlin shrugged. "I knew it wasn't over when the door opened."

Flint finally spoke. Voice low. "How did you keep pace with it?"

Merlin blinked once. "Training."

He said it like fact.

Because anything more than that—

'The system pulled all the slack for me. Sovereign Chain predicted the angles, Time let me squeeze between frames, Wind bridged the reach I didn't have… I'm barely standing.'

—was too much.

"Just timing," he added.

Dion laughed once. Not happy. Just bitter. "I hate that answer."

Mae spoke next. Her voice was smaller. "You threw Nathan through the door."

"I did."

"Why?"

Merlin looked at her. "Because if I didn't, he'd still be arguing."

Nathan crossed his arms. "You're not wrong."

Flint's jaw ticked once. "What now?"

Merlin looked down the corridor.

Dim glow.

Soft hum.

Same pressure sitting just behind his ears.

'Another room. Another setup. Another test dressed like a choice.'

He stood. Not fast. Just enough to make a point.

"We move."

Nathan followed. "Already?"

"There's no reset window. The next trial waits. It always waits."

And behind his thoughts, the system pulsed once.

[INTERNAL STABILITY: MAINTAINED]

[UNSEEN OBSERVERS: STILL PRESENT]

[NO ONE SPEAKS. YET.]

No one else saw it.

And that was the point.

—

Merlin led the way.

Not because he wanted to.

Because someone had to.

The corridor stretched on. Same smooth stone. Same stale air. Every footstep sounded too loud, like the whole place was holding its breath.

Mae caught up beside him, walking quiet. Still rattled, but not broken.

Behind them, Nathan muttered, "If the next room's another boss, I'm faking a heart attack."

Flint didn't laugh. Dion snorted anyway.

Merlin didn't comment.

His thoughts were elsewhere.

'That mana in the boss—felt like it was watching me. Not just cast. Directed. Like it was left behind by something smarter than it looked.'

System pinged.

[Residual Anchor Energy: Traced]

[Origin Affiliation: Unknown Divine]

[The Mask of Mirrors hums.]

He grimaced.

Of course.

Not a test.

A message.

Elara moved up near the front now too. She didn't ask questions. Just scanned the hallway ahead, same as him.

Seraphina stayed near the back. She wasn't limping anymore, but she still walked like she was one bad decision away from going full offense again.

Then the light changed.

Soft.

Sickly blue.

A doorway ahead. No lock. No runes. Just open shadow leaking mist onto the floor.

Merlin slowed.

Dion spoke first.

"Great. Mist. That's always a good sign."

Nathan added, "I vote we burn it. Just to be safe."

Mae said, "What if it's illusion magic?"

Seraphina cut in flat. "Then it burns prettier."

Merlin stepped to the edge and peered in.

Nothing.

No walls. No ceiling. Just black stone and drifting fog. But something felt off.

'This isn't a fight room. It's a view.'

Then he saw it.

Far across the room, raised up on a wide stone disc was a single throne.

Empty.

But the shadow behind it wasn't.

It pulsed. Soft. Measured.

System pinged again.

[Trial of Witness: Initiated]

[Objective: Endure.]

[Warning: Truth without anchors causes fracture.]

Merlin narrowed his eyes.

Behind him, Nathan stepped in close.

"You're squinting. That's new."

"It's not a normal room."

"None of them have been."

Merlin didn't answer.

He took one step inside.

The fog didn't shift.

The shadows didn't react.

But the throne?

It started whispering.

[The Messenger watches.]

[The Grin Beneath the Mask smiles without blinking.]

[A Third god joins the circle. Unknown.]

The system didn't tag the last one.

No name.

Just silence that stretched.

Merlin turned slightly, enough to glance back at the group.

"This one's going to hurt," he said.

No one argued.

Because they all felt it.

The weight.

The truth.

And somewhere, in the dark, the gods leaned in.

—

The throne pulsed.

The shadow behind it peeled away from the wall like it had been waiting.

Not moving.

Unfolding.

Merlin felt it before he saw it.

System pinged.

[Trial of Witness — Phase One: Manifestation]

[Target: Self]

[Warning: Identity Conflict Detected]

[You may not survive yourself.]

He didn't flinch.

The shadow stepped forward.

Same height. Same shoulders. Same posture.

His face.

His weapon.

But the eyes were wrong.

No light in them. No calculation.

Just cold.

Just version.

Merlin's hand curled around his blade.

Nathan's voice cut in behind him. "Uh. Is it just me or is that me?"

He turned. His own shadow was forming too, daggers already out.

Mae gasped.

Seraphina didn't make a sound.

None of them did.

Because by then, all seven shadows had stepped out.

Each one perfect.

Each one silent.

And each one smiling.

[The Messenger waits.]

[The Grin Beneath the Mask leans forward.]

[The Shadow Between Names holds its breath.]

Merlin spoke first.

"Don't hesitate."

No one responded.

They were too busy staring at themselves.

His shadow raised its blade.

Didn't attack.

Just mirrored him.

He stepped left.

It did too.

He didn't blink.

'So that's how we're playing this.'

"Eyes open," he muttered. "You're not fighting a monster. You're fighting every reason you've ever had to quit."

Then his shadow lunged.

And so did everyone else's.

—

He lunged.

So did the shadow.

Same angle. Same reach. Same footwork.

Steel met steel.

No sparks. No sound. Just weight.

'Of course it's fast. I made it that way.'

Merlin twisted low. Wind under his heel, pressure into his joints, legs crossing tight as he angled for the gap under the rib. His blade hit air.

The shadow had already pivoted.

He ducked. Barely. A clean arc missed his eye by less than a breath.

'Sovereign Chain. It has it too.'

It wasn't copying.

It was him. Every trick. Every combo. Every fakeout.

He parried left. Shadow Merlin caught it. Drove forward. Hard. The kind of pressure you only get from someone who's tired of pretending.

Merlin slid back.

Space folded. Just slightly. Enough to reset distance.

The shadow smiled.

Merlin didn't.

He flicked his blade up, faint. False opening. A draw.

The shadow took it.

Expected.

They clashed again.

Harder.

[CORE PRESSURE: BUILDING]

[SYSTEM STABILITY: MAINTAINED]

[ADAPTIVE SIGNATURE MATCHED: 100%]

'No randomness. No delay. It doesn't predict me. It is me.'

He let go of rhythm. Just for a second.

Then changed.

Dropped low.

Drove his foot forward instead of the blade.

Hit the shadow's knee.

It cracked but didn't break.

Shadow Merlin twisted mid-fall. Slammed the hilt into Merlin's shoulder.

He grunted. Stepped through the pain. Used it.

Time slowed.

Only a beat.

But enough.

Blade rose.

And came down.

Through its collarbone.

No scream.

Just collapse.

Shadow Merlin hit the stone like water losing shape.

Gone.