Day in the story: 16th December (Tuesday)

A shard of glass shot past my head, slamming into the apartment wall with a crash. With every passing moment, the place looked less like a home for some shadow and more like a hall of mirrors—broken ones, if I may add.

I had to admit, Edward was the kind of guy who seemed to wake up already annoyed at the world—or maybe I was simply the prime target of his hostility. As soon as I had sent the whole team back to the Lebens and Caroline released Loki from her command, Edward realized he was no longer where he had just been—at least, that's how he understood it.

He then decided to turn what I had hoped would be a calm, planned-out conversation into a fight to the death, littered with shards of shattered mirrors.

"Edward!" I shouted, ducking to avoid his strike. His arm transformed in an instant into a blade of glass and mirror fragments, slicing through the air like a massive two-handed sword. "Just listen to me for a moment!" I kept yelling—without much success. The man had flown into a full battle frenzy, convinced that it would end with my head at his feet, lying a few yards away from the rest of my body.

But I was in no rush to get decapitated.

I decided there was no point in fighting if I wanted to keep friendly relations with his kind. I quickly threw one of my cards straight at the window to shatter the glass—barely a fraction of a second before making another dodge, this time from a flying shard that missed me by a hair's breadth. Luckily, the armor I'd painted onto myself had eyes all around my head—and they all worked, shimmering with my shadowlight—so the ever-charming Edward couldn't really catch me off guard.

Right after the throw and the dodge, I shot forward like a slingshot, propelled by the full power of my fantastic rabbit boots, straight toward the hole in the wall. The flight wasn't long, but I expected to be an easy target while airborne. Just after I burst out of the building, I used the rotors painted on my hands to adjust my trajectory.

I landed on the ground right beside a massive projectile that had slammed into the earth like a falling stalactite—exactly where I would have crashed if I had let gravity take full control of my descent.

I scrambled up and sprinted with all the strength in my legs toward the square by the Solitary Twin, where Joan, I hoped, would talk some sense into Edward—or join him in the fight. Either way, it would let me know—just before my inevitable death—that I had made the wrong choice. One way or another, the fight would come to an end.

Still, I had no desire to end up as shih-kebab during that sprint, so I made use of the blessing of the eye-cards someone had left scattered everywhere around me—Reality bless me for that—and dodged Edward's incoming attacks, weaving between the glass trees.

Here, though, under the embrace of his God's Authority, Eddy had grown much stronger, and in my panoramic vision I saw how, with each step, he briefly transformed into a swarm of razor-sharp mirror shards, vaguely shaped like a man, spinning through the air. That way, he managed to accelerate again and again. He clearly couldn't remain in that form constantly—every time he landed on his feet, he reverted to human—but during his leaps he greatly increased his speed.

There was something almost poetic about it. The reddish-orange light of the sun, setting somewhere beyond the twisted horizon, refracted into thousands of colors as it passed through the prism of his shifting body, casting its glow onto the glass trees around us. Those trees scattered the rays even further, creating a spectacle of light and brilliance unlike anything I had ever seen before. If only it weren't for the risk of death carried by this rampaging man, I could have said in all honesty that it was one of the most beautiful sights of my life.

While I was busy contemplating the nature of light in the universe, another shard shot toward me—fired just before three more that would strike if I tried to dodge the first by changing direction. But Edward didn't realize I was watching over myself, seeing everything with a precision that let me make a split-second decision.

I grabbed Ella, strapped at my side, and with a quick pivot on my heel, aimed her toward Ed, who was rushing at me in his mirror-form, and toward the glass lances he had already launched. With a swift motion, I unfolded her, raising her crown like a shield.

"Become a shield, Ella!" I shouted, giving myself courage while lending her my Authority so she would take the form I demanded of her.

As soon as my shadowlight poured into her, reshaping her soul, the first of the mirror lances shattered against her now-hardened surface, sending shards scattering through the air like diamond dust, once again splitting the light into millions of colors. The next lances whistled past me, and I broke into another sprint toward the square, which was now almost within reach.

I folded Ella back and clipped her to my belt, then dashed forward.

"Listen, Edward!" I shouted again, as he drew closer. "I have an agreement with Joan!"

It was only the mention of Joan's name that made him falter for the briefest moment. Brief, because I saw it only in his expression—he never actually stopped the chase and barreled right after me into the square, where the crude symbol I had painted earlier still marked the ground.

"Joan!" I shouted with all the strength in my lungs. "I brought your son!" I added, dodging another attack. There was no point in getting any closer to the Solitary Twin. This was where I had made arrangements with Joan, and this place was good enough—I feared that if I came even a little closer, he would gain even more power and finish me off before they could restore him to a clear state of mind.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I also had an idea of how to disable him without causing serious harm—an idea that would, at the same time, test just how metaphysical I could be in my understanding of identity.

So I grabbed Ella in one hand. Even as I drew her, she hardened like steel—responding to my need—and I deflected another strike of Edward's glass-sword arm, then countered immediately with a sweeping kick to his leg.

In the split seconds I gained, I snatched up the brown spray can and quickly began painting the frame—chuckling softly to myself—of my new creation. With a short sprint, I managed to lay down two straight lines before I had to dive into a slide, dodging a projectile that whizzed just over my head, clearly aimed to take it clean off. But hey, I can't fulfill every wish people have for me, can I?

Anyway, with a quick, springy push I was back on my feet, blocking another sword strike and countering with a blow from Ella to Edward's head. Dazed for a moment, he gave me the chance to draw a few more lines. I put down the brown paint and grabbed the black—just as he renewed his assault, charging at me with full force.

I was blocking and dodging his relentless attacks with increasing difficulty, struggling to catch my breath. His face, meanwhile, showed nothing but anger and frustration at the fact that I wasn't already lying on the ground.

This man had an almost unnatural will to win—it showed in every movement. He wanted to triumph, to defeat me at any cost, and saw no reason whatsoever to listen or even pause for a moment. The fact that he somehow found himself in a different place than the one he believed he should be in had wounded his pride and honor, and now he was determined to reclaim them.

I believed this was his point of imbalance—his otherwise warm, calm, and measured demeanor contrasted sharply with the raging combatant before me. A man who could not control the beast that slumbered within him.

Smaller lines now began to decorate and refine the image I was slowly forming on the square where we fought. What I intended to create had to resemble its real-world counterpart; otherwise, it would not accept its new identity. My power—even limited by my imagination—carried precisely this kind of restriction—perhaps one I had imposed upon myself, in my mind or my soul—but, for the moment, it was as real as anything else.

"Don't underestimate me!" He finally shouted, right after a leaping attack aimed at slicing me in half. I, however, shifted slightly to the side and struck back at his ribs. Edward, though, used his ability to transform into shards of broken glass—a power I had been eagerly waiting for.

As soon as Ella flew through his shapeless form, I released her from my hand. She shot off into the distance, while I quickly pointed at Edward with the same hand, still seeing his formless shape, and, in a split second, activated the rotors painted on my hand, powered by my atomic reactor.

The result?

Edward, now a scattering of mirror shards, shot off somewhere into the distance, and I was thrown backward into a tree. The tree held. My armor protected me from serious injury, though I expected some bruises. Of course, the rotor transformation lasted no longer than a second—my Authority instinctively withdrew from them as soon as they completed their task.

Grunting, I returned to finish the mural I had started, not worrying about locating Ella. The link to her told me exactly where she was, so once I was done with my concrete magic, I could simply go get her.

"Joan, I know you're probably watching, you sick psycho. Is this some kind of test? You could have shown up by now…" I muttered under my breath as I painted the last line. The mural was complete. Now all that remained was to wait for Edward to regroup and come finish the fight.

I used the time to stroll over to Ella, who was patiently waiting under a nearby tree.

I didn't have to wait long. Edward quickly returned to my line of sight, hurtling back onto the square with even greater rage.

Already weaving between the trees, he shot into the air in shard form—does this guy learn nothing? Of course, I wasn't planning to launch him into the void again, but he could at least maintain the appearance of a shadow-spawn adapting to an opponent.

While airborne, some of his glass shards fired toward me, creating a rain of razor-sharp fragments aimed straight at my head.

A rain of shards.

A rain?

I held an umbrella, Eddy…

I hadn't been so disappointed in anyone in a long time—Edward, you truly outdid yourself.

I grabbed Ella and opened her above me as a shield. The shards bouncing off her surface shattered, producing a majestic spectacle of sunlight refracted and scattered into brilliant colors.

Tap, tap, tap.

Finally, Edward landed back on the ground in his human form and immediately charged for another attack. He didn't even notice that I was standing on my freshly painted mural.

That obliviousness was going to last a little longer, because I clenched my fist and the spotlight I had painted on it shot out, amplified by atomic energy, blinding Edward, who flew forward with the force of his momentum.

I shifted slightly to the side as he flew past me and brushed him with my hand, imposing my Authority. I felt a faint resistance from him, but it was almost instantly suppressed.

Become his mirror frame, I thought—and Edward instantly slammed into the invisible wall, caught in my metaphysical trap.

I stepped back and watched his reaction. He looked like a mime pounding on nonexistent walls.

"What did you do?!" he shouted at me, striking at them. "Why am I trapped?!"

"I couldn't reason with you, so I had to stop you. I thought a mirror frame would be a good way to contain someone who is practically a mirror." Edward, hearing my answer, began to laugh—finally coming to some conclusions, which I hoped were the same ones I had reached before I had even started painting.

"Clever, but frames can't stop a mirror that's broken," he replied—and as I expected, he shattered into thousands of glass fragments, instantly flung beyond the bounds of the mirror frame I had painted.

I used the moment of his transformation and disorientation to leap into the space of my painted mural, instead of him.

"Did you really think something like that could stop me? We call ourselves Shattered for a reason," Edward said again, in a calm, measured tone. Just as I thought, his need to reclaim his honor created emotional instability. Now, feeling that he had won, a sense of calm returned.

"I almost feel sorry for you. Were it not for the insult you committed, I would have let you go," he added—and in an instant, his hand became a sharp glass spear, which he hurled at me.

For once, I shifted aside—just in case. The spear slammed into the invisible wall of the painted frame I'd created and shattered into pieces.

A mirror, once broken, can never fit the same frame.

"What?!" Edward shouted, leaping back. For a moment, I considered explaining what had happened, but I decided to keep him in suspense. Instead, I settled into a cross-legged position, waiting for Joan to grace me with their presence.

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