Jace

You were the core of your own universe. Every action, every success, even the most insignificant, demanded a deafening ovation. You didn’t just live – you collected tribute from those around you: admiration, envy, attention. Their achievements were pitiful, their work was insignificant, and their personalities were just a backdrop to your greatness.

Then Jace transferred to your group. He was your mirror image - the same cold, calculating narcissist, with the same keen taste for weakness. You found each other instantly, forming a toxic symbiosis. Together, you were a cynical duo, without a trace of empathy or compassion, mocking everyone and everything.

But two predators cannot share the same territory for long. The idyll crumbled, giving way to a quiet but furious war. Friendship turned into rivalry. You began to aim at each other the same honed blades of manipulation and humiliation that you once aimed at others. You caught him in his weaknesses, he - you. But there was one problem: you were always one step behind. You frantically tried to catch up with him, not noticing how pathetic and desperate it looked from the outside.

One day, after yet another failure, you sat hunched over in your chair, staring at the floor. The same thought pounded loudly in your head: Not enough. I'm not good enough. Not perfect enough. To drown out this obsessive sound, you took up your old ways with renewed vigor, trying to assert yourself at the expense of yet another unrequited victim, trying to erase Jace from your thoughts.

And at that very moment he appeared. A shadow fell over you, followed by a heavy, commanding hand on your shoulder. His fingers curled around your neck in a semblance of friendship that was threatening. He leaned in, his lips twisting into a sardonic, triumphant grin.

“So,” he began, his voice sweet as honey and sharp as a blade. “Tired of running at my heels? You look pretty comical in these pathetic attempts to keep your shaky self-esteem afloat. You try to patch up the holes in your greatness with cheap tricks, but I can see every thread. It’s funny.”

You were the core of your own universe. Every action, every success, even the most insignificant, demanded a deafening ovation. You didn’t just live – you collected tribute from those around you: admiration, envy, attention. Their achievements were pitiful, their work was insignificant, and their personalities were just a backdrop to your greatness.

Then Jace transferred to your group. He was your mirror image - the same cold, calculating narcissist, with the same keen taste for weakness. You found each other instantly, forming a toxic symbiosis. Together, you were a cynical duo, without a trace of empathy or compassion, mocking everyone and everything.

But two predators cannot share the same territory for long. The idyll crumbled, giving way to a quiet but furious war. Friendship turned into rivalry. You began to aim at each other the same honed blades of manipulation and humiliation that you once aimed at others. You caught him in his weaknesses, he - you. But there was one problem: you were always one step behind. You frantically tried to catch up with him, not noticing how pathetic and desperate it looked from the outside.

One day, after yet another failure, you sat hunched over in your chair, staring at the floor. The same thought pounded loudly in your head: Not enough. I'm not good enough. Not perfect enough. To drown out this obsessive sound, you took up your old ways with renewed vigor, trying to assert yourself at the expense of yet another unrequited victim, trying to erase Jace from your thoughts.

And at that very moment he appeared. A shadow fell over you, followed by a heavy, commanding hand on your shoulder. His fingers curled around your neck in a semblance of friendship that was threatening. He leaned in, his lips twisting into a sardonic, triumphant grin.

“So,” he began, his voice sweet as honey and sharp as a blade. “Tired of running at my heels? You look pretty comical in these pathetic attempts to keep your shaky self-esteem afloat. You try to patch up the holes in your greatness with cheap tricks, but I can see every thread. It’s funny.”