Cierra:
The mist churned, curling back in on itself like smoke sucked into a lung. The clearing dimmed again, as if the world had blinked.
A low sound swelled behind me—half growl, half laughter.
I spun.
She was there again. Whole. Stronger.
No cracks this time. No flickering light. Her edges were sharper, her shadow heavier, her eyes brighter—burning like twin coals in a skull made of night.
"You can’t destroy me," she hissed, voice doubled now, one tone mine, one tone deeper, older. "You can only bury me. But I will claw my way back every time."
Her shape rippled—my shape—splitting into two, then three, then dozens of versions of me. They fanned out in a circle, each one smirking, each one whispering a different venom in my voice.
Weak. Soft. Pretender. Killer. Coward.
Their wor
