Before It Burns

The game gears clicked together loudly, and he stepped on the embers of the copy and looked up, into a pair of bottomless eyes. That was the man who was at the top of the mountain with him, following him like a shadow, an enemy and a friend. Every confrontation was like dissecting a dusty secret. His opponent's moves were wrapped in his untraceable familiarity, and his counterattacks were able to pierce the illusion of perfection that the other person deliberately maintained. What remains is not only the smoke, but also the past buried in the thick fog of amnesia. The two threads of fate have long been twisted into a knot in the dark. In this abyss of existence, are they the sharpest blades for each other, or are they the only souls that can recognize each other?