The air itself seemed to recoil as Kai's doppelgänger struck, its shadow-knife carving through space with the chilling finality of a guillotine's fall. Kai felt the deadly whisper of the blade before he saw it, his body moving on pure instinct as he twisted away—too slow. The obsidian edge kissed his ribs, parting flesh with surgical precision, and for one terrifying heartbeat he felt the cold metal slide between his bones before he wrenched himself free.
Warm blood immediately painted his side, the coppery scent mixing with the charged ozone smell of whatever dark magic had conjured these twisted reflections. His doppelgänger didn't pause to savor the near-miss; it flowed into another attack with liquid grace, its movements a perfect dark echo of Kai's own fighting style yet somehow wrong, like watching himself fight in a distorted mirror where every strength became a flaw.
