The light trembled and returned to its container under threat; it coagulated into translucency – a solid, malleable shape. The Soul Doll forged it as a blacksmith would, with patience, skill and determination. There was little room for error. The white blazed into something hot and red, a blade; with control, the doll broke another part of its body. It contained the explosion and harnessed what escaped to create a handle. The two ends merged from the heat of yet another aeter-made explosion. It was a sword, double-edged, straight, and sharp. The blade reflected efficiency and conviction, and the Soul Doll beamed at the sight of it.

Daiden frowned. In memory, it had taken him almost everything to create an advantage – battered body and burned flesh; it existed no more. He now faced the edge of a weapon, eager to hack at what remained. With a deep breath, Daiden lowered to a stance once more. The test was far from over; he cleared his mind from a muddle. He believed it with all his heart, the existence of another opportunity. He believed in his luck.

And then, with the sound of a gulp, it continued.

The sword moved with precision, guided with expert form and control. It sliced the stillness in the air and proceeded with powerful intent, but missed. Daiden had already adjusted to the increase in his combat potential; he evaded in a hurry and watched as the sword shattered both earth and soil. His feet hastened in a backward sprint, but the sword followed. This time, it reached, piercing the old wound on the shoulder. Daiden cursed when the blade slipped through his flesh without effort; he swerved to free from its grasp, and attacked unarmed. His fists collided with the back of the Soul Doll’s head; his legs followed in fluid motion, with a pair of kicks aimed – roughly – at the site of his first attack.

Daiden retreated after solid contact and gulped. When the dust cleared, he noticed a crack on the surface of the aeter-made container, the doll’s face.

“It worked!” whispered Daiden, in celebration.

[You mock me, you hurt me!]

Daiden heard the voice again. It pained his ears with every word. He focused on the Soul Doll with a grim expression; the voice, it emerged without the movement of lips. In that moment, Daiden hardened, and bowed with a tone of sincerity. He apologized.

“I’m sorry if I may have disrespected you,” said Daiden. “But I simply cannot allow you to defeat me here.”

[No. No!] the Soul Doll yelled. [I must kill, I must kill you. No…no mercy!]

The voice crackled this time, but remained true to its conviction. Daiden rushed the Soul Doll in haste and shifted to the side with the shattered arm. With renewed strength, he grabbed and dug into his opponent’s neck. He abandoned dignity in the pursuit of strength, for the sake of survival. His eyes reflected savagery after the explosion cleared; he used the bulk of his weight to keep the sword on ground, and absorbed the escaping light with greed.

“Stay still!” commanded Daiden.

The Soul Doll retaliated nonetheless; it lifted its hips, dislodged Daiden from the mount, and scrambled to safety. But the light had already served its purpose. In extended absorption, the latter noticed his wounds heal a little, his once removed eye even. It was magic, and Daiden’s heart pounded at the idea of experiencing more.

[I…I want to live.]

Daiden heard it without pain this time; it was an honest expression of thought, and it moved him to sadness. He shook his head and realigned to task at hand. His failure meant the permanence of death, and he refused to allow it on the account of his emotions.

Daiden observed the sword then, cutting through to him with vehemence. It was slower this time; he had scaled to a new height once more. In comparison, the Soul Doll had weakened – cracked around the edges, broken at certain parts. It moved with instability. Daiden maintained caution, nonetheless.

“The sword; what can I do about the sword?” thought Daiden, frantically. His expression worsened on the observation of an adjustment; the Soul Doll corrected its leakage and addressed the situation with renewed posture and form. Even through its doll-like exterior, Daiden witnessed a sense of desperation, much like his own – it was a first. “Shit!”

The sword slashed with greater ferocity now, exaggerated at first, and with calm precision through the course of time. Some chipped at the flesh with meagre cuts, and some struck with the intent to kill. Daiden responded with equal passion, with motion likened best to a dance. It wore on him as the moments passed; his legs slowed with exhaustion, but doll persisted with freshness. Daiden tolerated the difference and maintained speed; his mind shuffled through new information, sourced from the light he had absorbed. He needed something, his own weapon.

In that instant, Daiden felt an unshakable itch around his throat. It burned with rage, and then he remembered. In evasion, he touched his neck and confirmed it, the presence of something – a reminder of his death, the tattoo that circled the portion of his once headless body. It shone with radiance, a familiar white that halted the Soul Doll’s advance; it blinded. Daiden dove into his head once more, on borrowed time, and struggled to uncover an answer. He traced to what was necessary and froze with the thought.

“The Soul Doll is a manifestation of my potential for growth; it’s my doll,” thought Daiden, hurriedly, watching his opponent recover vision. “I need my own sword!”

Daiden reaffirmed his decision with a nod and then sprinted to create some distance between him and his Soul Doll. Once within the range of safety, he calmed to initiate his counter-offensive.

It started with nausea, a lump in the throat. But Daiden rested in ease with his boon from Ehedus; in time, his cheeks puffed as the aeter swelled to his mouth. He vomited a sound, almost silent, but with enough power to tear through the fabric of the Earthen Realm, to create a rift. His lips twirled to a smile, and he grinned giddily at the result of his experimentation. That’s all it was, an experiment. He staked everything to this one moment, and expressed confidence. But even in that one moment, his expression soured at the sight of Aelius, in his refusal to acknowledge what the former believed to be a breakthrough.

“You could at least smile,” whispered Daiden, under his breath, and with annoyance. He plunged his arm into the rift and experienced many things; it fascinated him. But even as the Soul Doll approached, Daiden bided what little time he had left in the pursuit of perfection.

And he found it. “There you are!”