The constellation platform began to tremble.
Not from movement.
From conflict.
Root didn't move. Neither did the Second. But the Rift registered both of them as active thrones—Null and Hollow versus Celestial and Memory-bound.
And the system didn't know which one to suppress.
So it tried to collapse.
[ ERROR: Dual Throne Authority Detected ]
[ Rift Layer 5 – Stability: 28% ]
[ Emergency Split Protocols Engaged… FAILED. ]
[ Conflict Flag Raised: SYSTEM DISPUTE IMMINENT. ]
The stars above flickered.
The walls cracked—white light spilling through like bleeding purity, fighting against the flickering Hollow shadows pooling around Root's feet.
"It's not supposed to let us face each other here," the Second said calmly.
"This layer was meant to keep us balanced."
Root's gaze sharpened. "Looks like it failed."
The floor beneath their feet fractured, a spiral of golden script clashing violently with Root's black tether-lines—glyphs clashing mid-air like two languages being screamed at once.
Then the Rift gave up.
And split the platform in half.
[ Rift Stability Zeroed. Temporary Personal Domains Constructed. ]
[ You have been granted: CROWNBREAK ZONE – NULL/VEINBOUND CONTROL. ]
[ Opponent granted: CROWNBREAK ZONE – CELESTIAL/MEMORY CONTROL. ]
No rules. No resets. No watchers.
Just silence.
And a sky of collapsing stars.
Root's half of the battlefield dimmed.
Hollow glyphs stitched themselves through the sky like blood vessels. The ground was uneven. Cracked. Real. A world that had been broken open, then stapled shut.
Veyr hovered beside him now—not behind.
Not hiding.
His mask cracked slightly as he floated forward.
"If the system won't stop us…"
"…then let's show it what happens when it tries to cage a throne."
Root smiled.
Across the shattered chasm, the Second raised his staff. His throne sigils expanded, unfolding memory-echoes of Rift layers he hadn't even walked—simulations of possible moves Root might make.
They were both unfinished.
Both unstable.
Both chosen.
The first one to blink would lose the title of anomaly.
And the first one to bleed… would be remembered.
The Hollow side of the battlefield pulsed with dark static.
No rules.
No resets.
Just the clash of two systems the Rift never meant to let coexist.
Root stepped forward.
The floor of his domain responded—rippling out in sharp, angular pulses. Glyphs bent underfoot. Reality twisted inward, reshaped not by code but by refusal.
Veyr extended one gloved hand.
And in it, a weapon began to form.
"You've earned your first artifact."
The space around his palm folded.
And from it emerged a blade—not metal, not summon-forged.
It was made of absence.
A jagged longsword, dark and narrow, with a glowing Hollow sigil embedded near the hilt. The edge shimmered faintly—not with light, but with the outline of what should be there.
What had been deleted to make space for it.
[ Artifact Created: Null-Fanged Blade – "Draive" ]
✦ Effect 1: Deletes system-based abilities on direct contact.
✦ Effect 2: Charges with Rift instability. When maxed, unleashes a Null Zone.
✦ Passive: +10% control in unstable environments.
Root gripped the blade.
And the platform responded.
Glyphs peeled away from the walls, encircling him.
His very presence now carved a line through the world.
Across the chasm, the Second raised his hand.
A flash of gold memory-sigils burst from the crown beneath his feet—shaping themselves into ghostlike projections of Root's previous movements, attacks, and escape patterns.
[ Memory Protocol: Path Simulation – 3 Lines Loaded ]
User can preemptively act against Root's most probable decisions.
[ Advantage: Turn Zero Preemption Activated. ]
Root's eye twitched.
"He's moving before I do?"
"No," Veyr corrected, floating beside him. "He's cheating beautifully."
Across the divide, the Second lifted his staff.
A celestial brand pulsed once overhead.
And from his side of the battlefield—clean, symmetric, sacred—a spectral army began to walk forward. Not real summons. Not illusions.
Recordings.
Fused memories of how Root might have fought—if he weren't himself.
"I've already fought you," the Second said calmly.
"Three different ways. All of them ended the same."
Root lifted the Null-Fanged Blade.
It hummed—barely real.
"Then I guess it's time to show you a version you didn't prepare for."
And the two thrones began to move.
The Second moved first.
He didn't rush.
Didn't lunge.
He simply gestured—and the Rift answered.
A golden arc of light sliced across the battlefield, not from his staff, but from a stored version of Root himself. The projection spun, mimicking Root's movements from earlier trials—each motion cleaner, sharper, more ideal than anything Root had actually done.
[ Memory Construct: Root v1.4 – Estimated Accuracy: 82% ]
Simulated Aggression Mode: Active
Celestial Throne Sync: Stable
Root sidestepped the strike.
Barely.
Even the copy was faster than he remembered being.
Veyr hovered to his left, hands behind his back.
"He's not summoning allies."
"He's summoning your mistakes."
Root gritted his teeth.
And smiled.
Good, he thought. Let him.
Then he moved.
Not forward.
Downward.
Root stomped the ground—activating not a skill, but a Rift violation.
The platform didn't crack.
It desynced.
[ Rift Fracture Step: MANUAL OVERRIDE ]
✦ A controlled burst of null gravity destabilizes local simulation alignment.
✦ Effect: Memory constructs lose synchronization. Predictive thrones experience delay.
The Hollow ground under Root's feet inverted—sigils peeling up like knives in reverse. The entire battlefield on his side shifted—rules bending out of sync. The constructs stuttered mid-frame.
Their predictions failed.
And Root moved through the wrong version of reality on purpose.
His blade sang—sliding through one of the mirrored copies like code through paper. It didn't even scream. Just vanished.
The Second's eyes narrowed.
He hadn't expected Root to disobey his own physics.
"You're glitching yourself on purpose?"
Root shrugged. "You're the one who said I was broken."
He activated Gravity Press, not on the enemy—but on the Second's perfect terrain.
Celestial glyphs cracked.
The golden loop faltered.
And the throne under the Second's feet dimmed—just for half a breath.
But that was enough.
[ System Delay: Memory Prediction Loop Resetting… ]
Counterplay Enabled: 4 seconds.
Root lunged forward.
Draive—his null blade—sliced through the air with no trail.
It struck the Second's staff.
And for the first time since the fight began—
Sound broke.
A deafening crack of pressure echoed through the Rift.
Golden shards burst upward.
Veyr's voice echoed behind him:
"That version of you he trained against?
That one didn't have me."
The Second stepped back.
His eyes still glowed.
But this time—
They weren't certain.