The ripples in the white void suddenly stopped.
Everything went perfectly still.
Then the air itself began to tear.
A wound opened in reality—jagged and black, bleeding shadow into the pristine emptiness. The edges of the tear writhed like living flesh, and from within that darkness, something stepped through.
Massive.
The Verythra that emerged was nothing like the mindless beasts that had attacked Astralyn. This one moved with purpose. Intelligence burned in its crimson eyes like dying stars.
Its form was a masterpiece of nightmare.
Pitch-black carapace that seemed to devour light itself. Six arms ending in talons the length of sword blades. A elongated skull that split into mandibles lined with rows of razor teeth.
But it was the presence that truly terrified.
The void around the creature bent and warped, as if reality itself was afraid to touch it.
When it looked down at Itsuki's collapsed form, contempt radiated from every line of its monstrous body.
You.
The word didn't come from its mouth—it carved itself directly into Itsuki's mind like a blade made of thought.
You are the one they fear.
Pathetic.
Itsuki's eyes snapped open.
Pure instinct screamed at him to move.
He rolled to the side just as a massive talon slammed into the ground where his head had been. The impact sent shockwaves through the void, creating more ripples in the white expanse.
Abstract Shift!
His mythic ability blazed to life for the first time since arriving in this place.
The concept of "distance" between him and the beast became "closeness to safety."
Itsuki found himself twenty feet away in an instant, gasping and shaking but alive.
The Verythra's head tilted.
Interesting.
It vanished.
Not teleportation—something faster. One moment it was across the void, the next it was right there, all six arms swinging in perfect coordination.
Time slowed.
Itsuki could see each talon cutting through the air, could track the precise angle of every strike. His mind processed the attack patterns with crystal clarity.
Left arm high. Right arm low. Center arms crossing.
Gap between the third and fourth strike.
There.
He shifted the abstract nature of his own body—from "solid" to "liquid"—for a split second.
The talons passed through him harmlessly.
Then he snapped back to solid form, his own fist crackling with essence as he drove it toward the creature's center mass.
The punch connected.
The Verythra staggered back three steps, genuine surprise flickering in its crimson eyes.
Impossible.
Itsuki didn't waste time gloating.
He pressed his advantage, shifting the concept of "heavy" to "weightless" for his limbs while keeping "devastating impact" for his strikes.
His next punch moved like lightning but hit like a meteor.
The beast's carapace cracked.
You dare—
The Verythra's roar shattered the silence of the void.
It lashed out with all six arms simultaneously, creating a web of death that should have been impossible to escape.
But Itsuki was moving in ways that defied logic now.
He shifted "up" to "sideways," "left" to "through," "before" to "after."
Reality bent around him as he danced between the strikes, each movement a impossible feat of conceptual manipulation.
For those first precious seconds, he was untouchable.
Decades seemed to pass in his perception.
Every heartbeat stretched into hours. Every blink lasted lifetimes. He analyzed every muscle twitch of his opponent, every shift in stance, every micro-expression of rage.
His body moved with fluid perfection, guided by a mind operating at speeds that should have burned out a human brain.
I can win this.
I can actually—
The Verythra adapted.
That was the moment everything changed.
Its attacks suddenly became unpredictable—not following any pattern Itsuki could analyze. Where before it had fought with the controlled fury of a master warrior, now it moved like pure chaos given form.
A talon scraped across his ribs.
Another grazed his shoulder.
The beast wasn't just faster now—it was learning.
You think your pathetic tricks can save you?
The creature's mental voice was filled with dark amusement.
I have devoured gods, little insect.
What are you compared to that?
Itsuki tried to shift "pain" to "strength," but his essence was already running low.
The exhaustion that had been building since he arrived in this void was catching up to him.
Each use of Abstract Shift drained him more than it should have.
Something's wrong.
This place—it's suppressing me somehow.
The Verythra struck again.
This time, Itsuki was a fraction of a second too slow.
A massive talon caught him across the chest, tearing through his robes and flesh like paper.
Blood—bright crimson in the endless white—sprayed across the void.
The first color this place had seen.
Itsuki hit the ground hard, his Abstract Shift flickering and dying.
Pain exploded through his nervous system.
Real pain.
Overwhelming pain.
The beast didn't give him time to recover.
It was on him in an instant, one massive hand wrapping around his throat and lifting him off the ground.
Did you truly believe you could challenge me?
The creature's grip tightened.
I am Vorthak the Consuming.
I am the hunger between stars.
I am the end of all things.
It drew back its free hand, talons gleaming with malevolent intent.
And you... are nothing.
The strike came down like a falling mountain.
Itsuki managed to shift "fatal" to "painful" at the last second, but even that small change cost him everything he had left.
The blow sent him flying across the void, his body tumbling end over end before slamming into the yielding ground.
He tried to stand.
His legs wouldn't obey.
He tried to activate his power.
Nothing happened.
Empty.
Completely empty.
Blood pooled beneath him, the only splash of color in the perfect whiteness.
Each breath sent spikes of agony through his chest.
Broken ribs. Maybe worse.
Can't... can't move...
Vorthak approached slowly, savoring the moment.
Each step sent tremors through the void.
This is what they feared?
The creature's mental voice was thick with disdain.
This weak, pathetic child?
It stopped directly above Itsuki's broken form, all six arms spreading wide like the wings of some apocalyptic angel.
Crimson eyes gazed down without mercy.
Without pity.
Only hunger.
I will enjoy consuming your essence, little godling.
And when I am done with you...
I will return to your precious kingdom.
I will find your friends.
Your family.
And I will devour them slowly.
While they scream your name.
Itsuki tried to speak, to curse, to rage against this monster.
All that came out was a weak gasp.
Blood and failure.
That's all I am.
The Verythra raised one massive talon, positioning it directly over Itsuki's heart.
The point gleamed like a star in the white void.
Goodbye, false prophet.
The talon began to descend.
Time seemed to slow one final time—not from Itsuki's power, but from the cruel efficiency of approaching death.
He could see every detail of the descending blade.
Could feel his own heartbeat stuttering in his chest.
Could taste copper and defeat on his tongue.
I'm sorry, he thought, closing his eyes.
I'm sorry I failed everyone.
I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough.
I'm sorry—
The talon stopped.
One inch from his heart.
Frozen in perfect stillness.
Itsuki's eyes opened in confusion.
Vorthak's expression had changed from hunger to... uncertainty.
What...
The creature's mental voice carried the first trace of doubt Itsuki had heard.
What is this presence?
Something was happening to the white void around them.
The air began to shimmer.
Reality started to fold.
And from somewhere impossibly distant—yet close enough to touch—came the sound of slow, measured footsteps.
Approaching.
Getting closer.
Much, much closer.