Replica.
Replica replica replica.
That word –that cursed word- was all that flitted through his mind, the only thing that he could focus on as the white marble flowers on the walls raced past him. The only sound accompanying him was that of his boots as they clicked against the floor and his own breathing from his sprint.
He wasn't scared; he couldn't be. He was a fake, after all. He couldn't truly feel, and if he did, it was only because of his connection to the original; that fragile bond that would break when the original was no more, the bond that would stop his pseudo-heart from beating. He knew from the moment he learned the truth that he was doomed to die, and yet, the thought filled him with remorse and regret…
wait
wait
He was feeling. And that could only mean…
The replica stopped in his tracks. "He's here."
His time came sooner than he thought.
X
It was over before it began; he could feel himself slipping away, back into the darkness from which he was born. It wasn't fair. He wanted to take down the original, the perfect one, so they could leave this twisted castle and this twisted world together. And yet there the first stood, triumphant, almost mockingly to the fake, as he watched his duplicate fade with those perfect sea-green eyes.
The fake could only smile. "Congratulations."
The original could only stare in fear. "But… but you…"
The replica laughed; a tired, empty laugh. "What are you so shocked for? You won."
The first faltered back for a moment, before running to his duplicate's side. "Why? Why did you do this?"
The copy sighed, and shrugged his shoulders. "…I don't know. I think I wanted to prove myself."
"Prove… yourself…?"
"Yeah…" The fake rested his head against the ever growing pool of darkness, letting a sole tear slide down his cheek. "I wanted to prove to you that I was just as good as you. That I could live just like you could." His laugh was rueful. "Guess I was wrong."
The original looked solemnly into the perfectly replicated face; it was like a mirror into his soul and all the emotion he never showed. "No…" His silver-blue hair shook from side to side, as he leaned his hands into the black abyss. "You probably have more of a right to live than I do right now."
The copy weakly raised his head. "What the heck are you-"
"I saw what those guys did. That whole… portal thing," the original said. "They used the darkness. I'm part of the darkness. I'll get you out of here. Don't worry."
The copy eye's flared open. "Don't! I have to fade! It's the only way I'll-"
"Didn't you want to protect her?"
The replica froze at the thought of his tiny, beautiful blonde angel; the original continued. "You can't help her if you're dead. At the very least… just stay alive, and keep watch from afar. I have a feeling things are gonna go downhill from here on out."
The copy studied his precursor's face; it was silent, calm, collected, everything he was created to be but was not. But it was also a sea of hidden emotion; anger, joy, sorrow, all the emotion that was exerted through him, the fake.
In that moment, he understood; the replica needed the first, and the first needed the replica. Sure, he had known it before, but the meaning was deeper now. Perfection needed foil, yin needed yang, and reality needed fantasy.
The fake gave in. "…You just won't take no for an answer, will you?" He laughed, as did the original. "I guess that's what makes us such wonderful two halves of a person, eh?"
"I'd say you're right," the first said. He felt the energy of the enclosing ink switch; it now led to salvation instead of death. "…Let's meet again someday."
The replica laughed one last time. "Are you actually hoping for that? We're the same person. We can't be kept apart for that long." He gave his precursor one final smirk, seeing the mirror of what he should have been, but was not. "Take care of your friends. They'll need all the help that they can get."
"Don't have to tell me twice," the original smirked as well.
And then his replica was gone, safe into a new world where that cursed word could not bind him.