Three weeks later…
Alex sat on the porch steps, chewing on a protein bar like it was cardboard. "This tastes like punishment."
Inside, Bob stood in the kitchen area, stirring a pot with narrowed eyes. "That's because it is. You sucked today."
"I didn't, it's not my fault your training has become so damn hard."
"You ran from it," Bob called back, deadpan. "Literally. I watched you."
Alex leaned back, arms behind his head, grinning. "Hey, I almost succeeded."
Bob stepped out, wooden spoon in hand like a weapon. "Say one more dumb thing and you're doing push-ups until the sun rises."
Alex just laughed. "You love torturing me."
"Correction." Bob sat down beside him with a faint smirk. "I love making you stronger. The torture's a bonus."
They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the sounds of the forest filling the air, birds, the distant rustle of leaves, the faint bubbling of whatever disaster Bob was cooking.
Then Alex looked over. "Hey. You think I'll ever be as strong as you?"
Bob didn't answer right away. He stared out at the trees, jaw tight, thinking. "No," he finally said.
Alex blinked. "Wow. Thanks for the pep talk."
Bob turned to him, voice quieter now. "You'll be stronger."
That shut Alex up. He sat up straighter, the joke fading from his expression.
Bob nudged him with the spoon. "You're not just raw power. You've got heart. You don't want to kill. You fight to protect, even when it terrifies you. That's rare."
Alex looked away, pretending to focus on a squirrel. "Yeah, well… I learned from the best."
Bob chuckled. "Nah, you learned from the worst."
Alex tilted his head. "Still not eating your war stew, though."
Bob immediately shoved the spoon toward him. "You're eating two bowls now."
Alex leapt to his feet. "I'd rather fight a bear."
Bob stood too, chasing him off the porch with the spoon raised. "A bear is way too weak for you, but I'm gonna make you fight one anyway. As soon as I find one."
Their laughter echoed through the woods.
Until they sat down at the table, chatting about how much Alex had improved.
Silence outside… until out of nowhere the cabin's windows exploded inward in a blinding flash of light.
Bob shoved Alex down instantly, shielding him as shards of glass and splinters of wood rained across the room. The fire died out, snuffed in a blast of air as four figures emerged through the smoke, hooded, tall, broad-shouldered.
Bob's eyes narrowed.
They moved like him.
Their posture. Their weight. Their breathing.
No… not like him.
Exactly like him.
"No…" he muttered, low and cold. "They're me. That's how they killed Rick…"
Alex pushed himself up beside him, face pale. "What the hell—?"
Then the fifth figure stepped through the smoke.
A tall man, radiant in gold and white armor, with a flowing mantle scorched at the edges. The design was unmistakable. The armor was once worn by the most beloved hero in the world.
Hope.
Except it wasn't him.
Lucien's face was calm beneath the golden light, his voice like a blade dipped in honey. "I always admired his look. Very… divine." He fucking smiled.
"Did you know that this armor gives you access to that light thingy power he used, amazing. It must've been imprinted on it, but how?"
Bob took a slow step forward, fury rising in his chest like magma. "Take that off."
Lucien smiled. "It suits me, doesn't it? Besides, he won't be needing it anymore."
The glow that pulsed off the suit wasn't fake. Bob could feel it in his bones, it still worked. Still held its power. Lucien was wielding it like a mockery, as if wearing Hope's very memory as a trophy.
Bob clenched his fists.
"You went too far."
Lucien tilted his head. "I've barely begun. You, of all people, should appreciate what I've created."
He motioned to the four clones, who stepped forward in unison.
Bob moved fast, blindingly fast. He elbowed Alex backward and shouted, "Run to the woods! Do not stop!"
"But—!"
"NOW!"
The clones struck all at once, fast, vicious, coordinated. Bob met them with bare fists, muscle against muscle, trained instinct against his own worst reflection. Each one knew his moves, his speed, his rhythm. Fighting them was like fighting himself with no limits.
He took one down with a brutal shoulder slam, only for another to sweep his leg and hammer his back.
Alex turned, and froze at the door, staring as Bob bled.
Lucien watched calmly, light dancing across his armor. "Look at him, Alex. The killer. The monster. You think you're any different?"
Alex's power surged under his skin, but Bob growled from the center of the chaos, "Go, Alex! I can't use my power unless you're safe!"
Lucien lifted a hand, light forming at his palm like a rising sun, just as Alex turned and vanished into the trees.
The light fired.
Bob took it head-on.
The four clones of Bob, identical in body, in movement, in rage, lifted their arms, and the shadows obeyed. Not like tricks or illusions. Real, suffocating, living darkness. It poured from their fists, their feet, their eyes. It wrapped around the air like smoke that didn't dissipate.
Bob stood in the center of it all.
"Figures," he muttered, teeth gritted. "If you're gonna copy me… might as well steal the nightmare too."
The room was now a battleground of black fire. Darkness swirled like blades, cutting through walls and splintering the cabin. One clone rushed him, shadow forming a blade across his forearm, and swung low. Bob ducked, caught the clone's wrist, and slammed his head into the wood floor.
CRACK.
Another came from behind, Bob kicked back without looking, catching it in the ribs. But the third clone was faster, sending a tendril of darkness to wrap Bob's leg, yanking him off balance.
He hit the floor hard, but rolled fast, fists igniting with his own shadows, richer, deeper, older. His shadows were not stolen. His were born of pain.
He unleashed a wall of it in a shockwave, knocking all four clones back like rag dolls.
"Cheap tricks," Bob spat.
...
Outside, Alex stood across from Lucien. Alex had reached the woods, then decided to come back. And now he was facing the consequences.
The gold armor glowed with divine light, radiant, blinding. But Alex didn't flinch. Not anymore.
"You're not him," Alex said coldly, hands at his sides, his power vibrating in the air.
Lucien tilted his head. "No, but I knew him. Far better than you did."
"Shut up."
The trees around them bent slightly as reality began to warp. Alex's power rippled, his aura now pulsing with faint distortion. The air trembled. Dirt lifted. Light fractured.
Lucien raised a brow, amused. "The power to bend reality. Rare. Dangerous. Especially in the hands of a child."
"I'm not a kid."
Alex raised a hand, and the ground beneath Lucien vanished. Like it was never there. Lucien fell half a meter, then launched upward with a blast of golden light.
They collided mid-air.
Alex's hand struck Lucien's chest, reality cracked around the contact like broken glass. He had the chance to end it all, but he hesitated. Lucien reeled, surprised. Alex came again, summoning blades made of sheer spatial folds.
Lucien countered, firing blinding light like lances, burning holes through trees and sky.
And inside the cabin…
Bob stood surrounded by himself. Four replicas, breathing in sync, moving like ghosts in a mirror. The air was thick with smoke and darkness, swirling with tension.
The first clone charged, silent, surgical. A whip of shadow lashed out at Bob's face.
Bob ducked, spun, caught the whip midair, and yanked.
The clone flew toward him. Bob met him with a brutal knee to the gut, followed by a hammerfist that shattered the jaw. It fell back, twitching.
The second clone didn't wait, shadows burst from its chest in jagged spears. Bob stepped aside, barely missing the spike that tore through the wall beside him. He grabbed the spear mid-thrust and broke it like kindling.
The third clone came in from above, dropping from the ceiling like a panther, blade of pure darkness aimed for Bob's throat.
Bob raised his forearm…SLASH.
Blood hit the wall.
He didn't cry out. Just growled. His other hand shot up and grabbed the clone midair by the neck.
"You think you're me?" he said, voice gravel and hate. "You're just a cheap fucking copy."
And he slammed the clone down through the hardwood floor, cracking it completely. Before it could recover, Bob summoned his shadow, condensed it into a spear, and drove it through the clone's heart.
HISS
The body convulsed. Then disintegrated into smoke.
One down.
The remaining two stopped.
Watching.
Analyzing.
Bob breathed heavily, body trembling with exertion, but his glare never wavered.
"I'm not scared of myself anymore," he said, stepping forward. "Come at me, you handsome assholes."
Then the cabin's air shifted. As if the very shadows were afraid.
And the two clones faded, disappearing into a swirl of smoke, like their time was up.
"No—" Bob's head whipped around. "No!"
Outside Lucien stood tall, golden light flaring from his chest. His cape swayed with righteous cruelty.
Behind him, Alex was gone.
Only a smoking crater remained, scorched with radiant fire and dimensional burn marks.
Bob burst through the cabin door. His boots slid in the dirt as he took in the scene.
His eyes widened.
His pulse stopped.
"Alex…"
Lucien met his gaze across the field. Still wearing Hope's armor. Still glowing with false justice.
"You lost, You trained him well, shit, that kid could've had killed me like five times. But you messed up. You didn't teach him to kill, did you?" Lucien said simply. "And this time… you don't get another chance."
He vanished into the light, leaving nothing behind but cold, bitter silence.
Bob stood still.
Blood dripping down his hands.
Smoke curling around his shoulders.
He had won the battle.
But lost everything.