All around me, the inscriptions I carved into the earth begin to glow with a golden light.  Power swells around Filia and me, coalescing into a hemispherical barrier which encompasses the entire inscription.  The temperature here within the barrier rapidly cools to one far more comfortable and conducive for a clash of bodies and wills.  The sky appears to darken slightly, a portion of the sun’s rays being blocked by the barrier of muted gold surrounding me on all sides.

Filia, for the first time, moves of its own will, floating in the air in front of me.  Teal light appears from their center, moving over my body from head to toe, scanning me.  And then Filia shifts.  The ore, which had previously taken on the size and general shape of a vinyl record, twists, shifts, and— defying the laws of conventional physics— grows, taking my appearance.

Filia is now identical to me, including my gear.  The only exception is that from head to toe, they retain their inky black color.  It’s…  It’s like facing my own shadow.  But rather than being scared like I probably should be, I’m… excited.  Eager to face my greatest challenge yet.  Eager to overcome this trial, knowing that it will set me up to be that much more ready for the challenges still to come, ones for which people’s lives will hang in the balance.

“The rules of this contest are simple,” Filia explains.  “Your objective is to force me to submit and acknowledge you as my master.  But I will warn you.  You should prepare to come at me with killing intent.  Holding anything back because you are worried about my safety will only imperil your own and ensure your failure.”

“I understand.”  I grit my teeth and point my [Mechanical Arm Cannon] at my tenebrous doppelganger.  This might be my last fight using the weapon for a long time, and if it is, I plan to give it the explosive sendoff it deserves.

We charge at one another, neither batting an eye as our fists launch at one another.  I parry the punch, deflecting it upward with my right hand, while my doppelganger ducks low, reaching in and grappling me around my waist, charging to try to slam me against the barrier wall.

I fling my upper body back with all the force I can muster, briefly sprouting my wings to adjust my center of mass to effectuate the backflip.  With my hands planted on the ground, I throw my double back, trying to fling them against the barrier wall instead.  But their grip is tight, and they squeeze as though they’re trying to pop me like a balloon and crush my organs within.

Trying to break free of their vise-grip is a fool’s errand.  They have all the mechanical advantage from their current position, while I have none.  So, with wings outstretched and holding us both aloft, I bring my elbows down upon Shadow Seraphina’s head and shoulders.  Hard, intense blows.  I can’t tear them off me, but I can and will make it far more painful for them to continue than to relent.

One thrust downward, right on the crown of my double’s head.  It’s hard as stone, but even stone will crack and crumble with enough force.  A second, this time with even more force than before.  As I continue attacking, the squeezing doesn’t stop.  My double continues to grip tightly against me, making my legs start to go limp and numb as the blood flow begins to constrict even more.

As a last ditch effort, I point my [Mechanical Arm Cannon’s barrel] directly at my doppelganger’s side and blast right into her head.  Thanks to her [Vitality] being as high as mine, I fail to do more than draw a small amount of blood, but I do stagger her enough to loose myself free of her grip and wriggle myself free.  My heartbeat echoes in my hips and calves as the blood flow restores, and feeling gradually returns.

My double only smirks as words echo in my mind.  “I was beginning to worry that you hadn’t taken my earlier words seriously.  Draw your weapon, and fight me with everything you have.  I have been patient with you to this point because that’s the sort of person you are.  I can sense it through the glyphs you’ve drawn.  But even my patience is not infinite.  Now, Seraphina.  Again.”

I take a deep breath and charge forward, this time bolstering my speed with [Impulse] glyphs upon my feet.  Without Chloe’s spell empowering me, I feel so weak and slow compared with my normal fighting power.  But that’s just fine.  Even if I were alone, I am not weak.  And I am not alone.  I have Chloe, always and forever.  And a lot of other people are relying on me, to make sure that I won’t let another calamity befall our home.  I cannot fail.

My double smiles, firing multiple bursts of [Lightning Ether Bullets] toward me.  I repel them with a simple [Repulsion] glyph, saving my [Ether] for a more critical moment.

I counter with a [Lightning Ether Bullet] of my own.  The two of us launch our attacks at the same time.  Our bullets collide, canceling the momentum and sending electrical energy arcing around us.  I suffer minimal damage as I backstep out of the way, but I get no quarter as Filia attacks me once more, this time with non-elemental blasts fired through a cloud of dust they kicked up.

Such blindspot attacks are useless against me, as Filia is undoubtedly well aware.  Still, they want to see how I plan to dodge, and then reevaluate and launch their next attack accordingly.

And I realize that this, too, is a part of the trial.  In order for us to effectively fight together, we have to understand one another’s combat proclivities at an instinctual level.  If one of us favors an all-out attacking style, and the other a cautious, defensive one, the resulting dissonance, even if only for a few milliseconds, could open one or both of us to a fatal blow.

I choose to fight defensively for the time being.  Right now, I have to assume that Filia knows and can utilize every technique in my arsenal, and has superior knowledge of glyphs and [Glyphcasting] from their time spent in another world.  Backing up, I cast my underutilized and underranked [Etheric Armor] upon myself, coating my body in a thin veneer of shimmering light to defend against any shrapnel or errant attacks that might veer off their projected course.

Filia charges, using the last handful of bullets as covering fire for their approach.  A series of rapid-fire, close-quarters, hand-to-hand combat commences.  Before long, we’ve both doubly-intensified our attacks, sharpening them with glyphs.  My hands are wreathed in orange flames, theirs in ice the color of pale moonlight, as we punch and kick and headbutt and everything else.

Each clash tests my body, pain accumulating from the shockwaves and blunt impacts.  But more than that, it’s a clash of willpower.  The will to keep going, even when the going gets tough.  Even when being pushed beyond human limits.  Even when the pain mounts and it’d be easier and faster just to succumb, submit, lie down, and allow the System or the world to trample me underfoot.

I will never let that happen.  If I allow myself to falter, I won’t be the only one who pays for that inaction.  And if I run away from the battle, turning my back on a chance to get stronger, I might end up putting myself and the people I care about through another impossible choice.  I never again want to have to make the decision to sacrifice some to save more.

I– I made that choice because it was the choice that had the best chance of saving the greatest number of lives.  Objectively, I still believe that what I did was correct.  But it feels like shit, and I’m sure it feels a lot worse to those who died, whether because of my spell or because I was too weak and slow to do more and faster.  It still feels like a failure.  Because it was.

But I don’t have to compound that failure.  I won’t do so.  This is a promise.  To myself as much as anyone.  I will succeed.

I rush forward for another round, this time electing for an offensive push where my previous defensive one found no purchase.  Instead of focusing on deflecting and blocking, this time, I move in, trading punches with Filia as we clash once more.  It hurts like hell.  Each blow makes my vision go blurry, my [Etheric Armor] cracking and re-forming in rapid succession.

I know I’m doing damage.  I can sense Filia weakening slightly.  But my aggressiveness is taking its toll on me, for they are doing more damage back to me.  A burst of [Gravity] from me tips the fist of my double, off course, but a reversed burst of the same from Filia knocks my hand into the air, exposing my chest to a follow-up punch that I can only partially block.  I can only partially divert my flight in time, ensuring that the punch hits me square in the breastplate rather than the relatively underdefended gut punch I was about to take.

Still, it hurts.  Filia’s punch hits me hard enough that my [Etheric Armor] breaks and my [Wyvernscale Brigandine] underneath cracks.  The wind is knocked out of me, and as I stumble to the floor, I’m dodging mostly on instinct.  I’m able to use a combination of my [Archangel’s Gaze] and my combat reflexes to avoid the worst of it, but I’m in a bad situation, and we both know it.

“You’ve fought well,” Filia says, looming over me with their gun arm pointed at me.  “Better than I’d expected, considering your level and the amount of time you’ve had to gain fighting experience and learn about glyphs and the System.  But I cannot accept you as my master.  Not yet.”

I force myself back to my feet.  I’m not sure if it’s some subconscious effect of [Indomitable Will] or anger at Filia’s patronizing me or the contempt I feel at there being an effigy of me that’s better than me or all three or something else.  But I’m pissed.  And confident.  For some reason I don’t understand, I’m confident that I’m going to win, despite my body being bruised, pain coursing through me, my [Health] being at just over a quarter, and every indication that I’m outmatched.

“Surrender,” they say.  “Just because you can’t defeat me right now doesn’t mean you need to throw your life away to prove yourself.”

“Ha.”  I spit a chunk of blood on the dirt beneath me.  “As if.  I’ve fought so many beings that I could have and maybe should have lost to.  Armosi.  Oneiros.  The Molochian, the Apophisites.  Giant saurians and swarms of harpies, twisted humans and a City Slayer and even effigies of heroes and villains from other worlds.  And yet, despite it all, I’m still here standing.  Maybe it’s fate.  Maybe it’s Chloe’s luck finally starting to rub off on me.”

Healing light fills my body, patching up my internal wounds, staunching the cuts which haven’t yet stopped bleeding.  My [Health] is rising rapidly, and the pain is now greatly diminished.  My already high confidence soars to new heights as I feel Chloe’s presence and hear her words in my mind.

“I thought you said you had this under control,” she says, though there’s no malice in her words.

“I thought I did.  But I am again reminded that, alone, I’m not half the woman I am when I’m with you.  Just more proof that we were meant to be together.”

“As long as you remember that.  Now, I’ll keep you healed up, Sera.  You take care of the things you have to do.”

“Of course, Chloe.”

“I see, I see.  Healing magic as well?”  Filia smiles.  “I suppose I have underestimated you.”

“You’re wrong,” I respond.  “I can’t cast healing magic.  Even with [Glyphcasting], my knowledge of human anatomy and physiology and glyph effects… they’re all far too weak and unrefined to try to heal myself.  But Chloe can.  And the bond we share is my greatest strength.  That’s why I know I’m gonna win!”

Filia smiles.  “Good to hear you’ve found your second wind.  Now then!  Let us continue with your trial!  Prove to me that I was right about you, and that you are worthy to be entrusted with my destiny!”