There was no sky anymore—only light and echo.

Draven stood in a world made of reflection: every motion thrown back at him, every heartbeat answered. The air trembled with the sound of a thousand wings beating in rhythm with his pulse. The mirrored Vale bent around him, repeating his form until he couldn’t tell where he ended and the copy began.

The reflection—his other self—watched with an expression that was too calm. The gold in its eyes had deepened to molten metal. When it spoke, ...