The battlefield shimmered as the Brush clone stepped forward, an exact reflection of the Chosen One. Every scar, every flicker of his aura, every twitch of his hand mirrored perfectly—but the eyes… the eyes lacked the fire of true determination.
Brush's fists glowed, teleportation energy flickering around him. Around him, his gacha summons—millions of SSRs, heroes, and legendary fighters—materialized, their forms vibrating with pure probability.
The clone smirked. "Let's see… if your heart matches your power."
Brush didn't hesitate. With a surge of Destruction Fist, he teleported behind the clone, punching through the air. The clone mirrored instantly, teleporting too, matching the strike—but Brush's fists were guided by experience, instinct, and sheer will, something the mirror could never truly replicate.
He summoned Hikaru, Crunchyroller, and Daji as spectral projections, creating multiple points of attack. The clone responded with perfect copies, every slash, every shot, every strike reflected with eerie precision.
Brush's mind raced. He can mimic my attacks, but he can't copy the essence—the unpredictability, the weight of my choices.
He raised his Destruction Fist again, pulling probability into himself, reshaping the battlefield. SSRs from his gacha army teleported in, raining strikes from every angle. The clone tried to dodge, matching moves perfectly… but Brush had already begun improvising.
A swirl of energy erupted: Nikkei's blades spun, Genshin archers fired, Uma Musume charges collided, Star Rail Punchers struck in synchronized chaos. The clone staggered under the sheer combination of raw strength, summoning power, and unpredictability.
Brush's eyes blazed. "This ends now!"
He channeled every ounce of his innate soul of determination into one concentrated strike—Destruction Fist amplified by the probability of every gacha summon, every past victory, every ounce of will.
The clone's mirrored aura flared to counter, but it wasn't enough. Brush's strike shattered the mirror perfectly: the clone's form exploded into fragments of copied energy, leaving nothing but a faint, flickering shadow behind.
Brush landed, chest heaving, gacha summons vanishing as their energy merged back into him. The first test had been survived.
Yet, around him, the battlefield still shimmered with corrupted energy. Blackmail's clones of Hikaru, Daji, Jaki, Crunchyroller, and Equinox waited—each poised to strike, each an echo of someone he loved and trusted.
Brush clenched his fists, aura blazing brighter than ever. "They can copy form, but they'll never copy our bond… or our heart. Bring it on."
The war had only just begun.