The Truth of Mimic
Tomora is not an elemental.
Elementals borrow power from the world.
Tomora becomes it.
A Mimic does not copy abilities the way others do. He copies existence itself—the rule behind the power. When Tomora faces something powerful at the edge of death, his soul does not resist. It records.
Lightning was never his first element.
It was his first survival.
When his father died, Tomora's body was pushed to collapse. In that moment—without thought, without choice—his Mimic nature activated. He mirrored the state of his father's power and surpassed it. His father was Stage 1 lightning. Tomora became Stage 2.
Not because he trained.
Because Mimics do not imitate—they optimize.
The same thing happened with water.
Facing Azure, drowning, body failing again, Tomora copied not just water—but the concept of flow, pressure, and persistence. Azure was Stage 2. Tomora awakened as Ancestral, instantly exceeding him.
This is the law of Mimic.
Anything Tomora experiences deeply enough—elements, matter, concepts, even powers from foreign worlds—can be copied. Ground. Stars. Blood. Cursed energy. Divine authority. Nothing is excluded.
And once copied…
Tomora does not match you.
He becomes better.
That is why Mimics are feared.
And why the first Mimic, Dave, calls this power a curse.
Because every near-death moment makes Tomora less human…
and closer to something the world cannot control.The Price of Mimicry
The Mimic's power was never meant to be free.
Every time Tomora copies something—truly copies it—he doesn't just take its strength. He pays with himself.
Mimicry does not borrow energy.
It rewrites the soul.
Each activation shortens Tomora's lifespan. Not all at once, not visibly—but permanently. Years are shaved away silently, like pages torn from a book no one else can read. The stronger the thing he copies, the steeper the cost.
But time isn't the worst price.
Identity is.
When Tomora used lightning, the headaches weren't strain. They were fractures. His thoughts sharpened, emotions dulled, patience thinned. He became colder, more distant—because lightning is not gentle. It is fast, violent, decisive. The power bled into who he was.
That is the second rule of Mimic.
What he copies, he becomes.
Water didn't just give him flow and endurance. It washed pieces of him away. Memories blur faster now. His sense of fear changes. His emotions stretch and thin, like ripples that never fully settle.
The Mimic does not control the transformation.
Every near-death awakening pushes Tomora further from the boy he was and closer to a reflection of the powers he's absorbed. If he copies too much, too often, there may come a day when there is no "Tomora" left to return to.
This is why Mimics are forbidden.
Not because they are too strong—
but because they are temporary.
And Dave, the first Mimic, knows exactly how this story ends..