The world shifted after the Trial of the Forgotten Court.

  Arjun could feel it — not just in his bones, but in the very weave of reality around him. The forest seemed less hostile now, as if acknowledging his passage. Paths opened where once there had been walls of thorns; the winds carried soft songs instead of mournful sighs.

  Yet he knew better than to think the worst was behind them.

  The road to the Karmic Throne was long. And destiny never moved in straight lines.

  Their journey led them to a place spoken of only in riddles among the villagers: Varnika Lake — the "Mirror of Souls."

  A vast, silver body of water hidden deep within the Forest of Ancients, said to reflect not just appearances, but truths buried even from oneself.

  According to Yumi’s map — stitched together from fragments of elder songs and lost scrolls — the next piece of Arjun's fragmented karmic inheritance slept beneath its waters.

  But no map could warn them of the price.

  The lake revealed itself at sunset.

  A perfect circle, unnaturally still. The sky bled crimson and gold into its mirror-like surface, and yet no ripple disturbed it, even as the wind rustled the surrounding reeds.

  Raaka peered nervously at the water. "Anyone else getting 'bad idea' vibes?"

  Yumi muttered, "More than usual."

  Ayra said nothing, but her hand stayed near her sword hilt.

  Arjun, though, stepped forward, drawn by a force he could neither name nor resist.

  As he approached the shore, glyphs unseen until now began to shimmer in the air — ancient runes spinning lazily above the water, casting strange reflections.

  Then the lake spoke.

  Not with words, but with memories.

  The surface darkened.

  In it, Arjun saw himself — a younger boy, scavenging broken bread crusts from the dust of Bharava’s streets. A dirty, barefoot child who had not yet dreamed of kingship, or destiny, or thrones.

  Then the image shifted.

  He saw himself again, standing atop a mountain of corpses, a golden crown heavy on his brow. His eyes burned with ruthless ambition. His sword dripped blood — not of enemies, but of those he had once called friends.

  He staggered back.

  Raaka caught him. "You okay, boss?"

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  Arjun wiped sweat from his brow. "It's trying to show me... what could be."

  "Yeah, well, maybe don't look too closely," Raaka said, forcing a grin. "You might not like the ending."

  A new notification pulsed before Arjun’s vision.

  > [Karmic Trial Initiated: The Reflection of True Self]

  Objective: Confront your shadow. Retrieve the Seed of Ascendance.

  > Warning: Failure will result in karmic backlash and soul fragmentation.

  A swirling portal formed above the lake — a doorway of silver mist.

  Arjun took a breath.

  Then he stepped through.

  The world on the other side was wrong.

  He stood upon a lake of mirrors, endless in all directions. Above, a cracked sky churned with violet storms. Shapes flickered at the edge of vision — mockeries of familiar faces, distorted by hatred and despair.

  Before him stood his enemy.

  Himself.

  Or rather, what he could become.

  The dark Arjun wore blackened armor. His eyes glowed with cold certainty. A jagged crown sat atop his head like a cage. At his feet knelt a dozen figures, bound in chains — Raaka, Yumi, Ayra among them.

  "Why do you resist?" Dark Arjun’s voice was like a blade drawn slowly across stone. "You were born to rule. To command. To take."

  "I was born to build," Arjun said, raising his fists.

  Dark Arjun laughed. "Na?ve. Builders are crushed. Dreamers are devoured. Only rulers survive."

  The mirror floor cracked under their feet.

  The battle began.

  It was like fighting a nightmare.

  Dark Arjun anticipated every move. Every strike, every feint, every desperate defense — mirrored and countered with brutal efficiency.

  Worse, every blow Arjun received carried not just pain, but memories of every failure, every betrayal he had suffered.

  He faltered under the weight.

  Dark Arjun pressed the attack, driving him back step by agonizing step.

  "You are weak," his double sneered. "You pity the unworthy. You spare the treacherous. You hesitate."

  "I choose to hope!" Arjun shouted, parrying a vicious blow that nearly split him in two.

  Dark Arjun tilted his head mockingly. "Hope is a lie. A chain you forged yourself."

  Their blades clashed again and again, sparks flying like shooting stars.

  But Arjun began to see the truth.

  The reflection was powerful because it fed on his doubts. His anger. His guilt.

  Every time he hated himself, the Shadow grew stronger.

  Every time he despaired, it struck faster.

  Then I must deny it that power.

  He let go.

  Not of his desire to win — but of his fear of losing.

  He accepted his flaws.

  His mistakes.

  His grief.

  He embraced them not as burdens, but as scars he had earned.

  The next time Dark Arjun struck, Arjun caught the blade in his bare hands. Blood poured from his palms — but he did not falter.

  He pulled the shadow close and whispered:

  "I am not you."

  And he shattered the mirror.

  Light erupted from the cracks, blinding and pure.

  The dark double screamed, dissolving into mist.

  In the center of the now-shattered lake stood a seed — small, silver, pulsing with slow, steady light.

  Arjun reached out and took it.

  > [Quest Completed: Reflection of True Self]

  Item Gained: Seed of Ascendance

  (Can be planted within your soul to unlock latent potential.)

  > Ability Gained: Resilience of the Mirrorborn

  (Minor resistance to mental attacks, illusions, and despair effects.)

  > Karmic Energy Gained: +700

  He stumbled back into the real world, gasping.

  The lake shimmered as if in applause.

  Ayra rushed to his side. "What happened?"

  Arjun held up the seed.

  "I faced myself," he said simply.

  Raaka clapped him on the back. "You win?"

  Arjun smiled faintly. "For now."

  They made camp by the lake that night, under stars so bright they seemed close enough to touch.

  As Arjun sat by the fire, studying the Seed of Ascendance, he felt a subtle shift within him. His soul was no longer just his own — it carried echoes of possibilities, both beautiful and terrible.

  Choose wisely, the gods had said.

  He would.

  He must.

  Because the journey was only growing harder.

  And unseen forces were already moving against him, stirred by his growing light.

  Far to the north, beyond mountains shrouded in perpetual storm, something old and patient opened its eyes.

  And it was hungry.