"No you don't!" I shrug off the strange feeling of attacking myself and throw the sword away. "Claws aren't designed for holding that stuff." I mutter to myself.

"They're more for slitting throats, yes?" The fake you says, flexing their claws before lunging at you, claws out and ready to attack.

Continuing down the path, Sophia made sure to keep an eye and ear out for any possible traps. There were a few more, but she short circuits them before someone could trigger them. You soon reach a split in the path.
Right - runes
Left - stone

"Oh the choices...." Innocencio goes for the stones.

The path ends in a wooden door. Sophia reaches for the handle and opens the door before jumping back. Nothing happens.
"Huh." Sophia shrugs and enters the trone room beyond. She turns in a full circle, taking in the scene around her.

Innocencio hesitantly follows. "Why is there a throne room? I knew I shouldve listened when my friend insisted i learn about this stuff that one time....." His gaze drifted around, thoguh he stayed near Sophia. Safety in numbers, right?

"Do think this place is safe enough that I can take a nap? I'm kind of tired." Sophia says.
"Sure, you can fall asleep. Just be prepared to never wake again." A floating, glowing green ball of gas crows, flying into the room. Sophia stumbles back from it, running into you.

Innocencio stares at it. "What-who-are you? The owner of this place?" He asks nervously, tryign to sound confident and fialing.

"I am Oran and, you guessed it, the owner of the Labyrinth - and also stuck inside this Labyrinth. I have another form." Oran boasts, turning into a big green minotaur. "It isn't much better, but it makes me feel bigger and more powerful."
"What's with you and the color green?" Sophia asks.
"What's with you and sticking your nose in other people's business. It wasn't my choice to be green in all my forms. I only have two." Oran says.

Innocencio swallows. "I mean, green isnt the worse color, at least it isnt bright yellow or neon orange neon orange is a really bad color to have to use for any period of time. Unless you're going for a fiery scheme, which-" He blushed, he was rambling about color schemes and how could be do that when he himself looked like a mess. Which, to him, meant not being perfectly outfitted and not being sweaty.