The entrance to the Sunken Gallery was not a door. It was a wound in reality.
As Vane Varkas's "Ghost Ship" drifted into the deeper trenches of the Second Ocean, the very water began to lose its fluid nature. It became thick, gelatinous, and swirled with iridescent "Oil-Slick" colors that defied the laws of buoyancy. The ship groaned, its hull—now reinforced with the grey pigments of the Warden—creaking under the weight of Abstract Physics.
"Master, we are crossing the 'Frame'," Lyra whispered.
The Void-Hound stood at the edge of the cockpit, her eyes—now pulsing with a dark violet light—scanning the murk. Her white hair was tied back with a black ink-ribbon, and her new maroon-colored suit shimmered with a dark, metallic sheen. Her "Scent-Pathing" had evolved; she no longer smelled the blood of her enemies, she smelled the Line-Weight of the world.
"The Curator has already activated the first defense," she continued, her voice sharp. "He has turned the outer perimeter into a 'Cubist Zone'. If we touch the water directly, our bodies will be sliced into geometric shapes."
Vane stood behind her, his arms crossed. His matte-black shroud was so dense it seemed to create a localized vacuum, pulling the colorful oil-slick water toward him only to have it vanish into nothingness.
"Cubism, huh?" Vane's voice was like stone grinding on stone. "He thinks he can stop me with 'Geometry'. System, analyze the zone."
[Ding!]
[Location: The Sunken Gallery – Entrance Hall] [Environmental Effect: 'Fractured Perspective'] [Description: Local physics are divided into 2D and 3D planes. Moving incorrectly will cause 'Structural Disintegration'.] [Enemy Type: Abstract Sentinels.]
Vane walked to the airlock. "Lyra, stay behind me. Your new 'Kinetic-Drain' passive will keep you from being sliced, but your Saturation is still too 'Vibrant' for this place. You'll attract the sentinels like a flare in the night."
"I understand, Sovereign," Lyra bowed, her heart still racing from the sheer pressure of Vane's presence.
Vane stepped out of the ship.
The moment his feet touched the "Water," a sound like a thousand glass plates shattering rang out. The world shifted. To anyone else, the scene would be terrifying. The floor was now a series of triangles; the ceiling was a swirling mess of primary colors; and the "Abstract Sentinels" were emerging from the walls.
These were not biological creatures. They were beings of Pure Form. One looked like a massive, floating eye surrounded by spinning razor-wire pyramids. Another was a headless torso made of shifting marble blocks, each block vibrating with a different "Note" of physics.
[Target Identified: Geometric Guard (Rank 6).] [Attribute: Sharp Logic.] [Warning: These enemies cannot be damaged by physical strikes. They must be 'De-Saturated'.]
"Sharp Logic?" Vane let out a cold, mocking laugh. "I am a Static. Logic never applied to me."
The first sentinel, the floating eye-pyramid, charged. It moved in "Frames," teleporting ten feet at a time as if it were being drawn and erased repeatedly. As it reached Vane, it unleashed a burst of [Line-Art Lasers]. These weren't beams of heat; they were literal 2D lines that attempted to "Cut" Vane's 3D form into a flat sketch.
Vane didn't move. He simply opened his hand.
"[Pigment Drain: Void-Aura]!"
The lasers hit the black mist surrounding Vane and vanished. It was like throwing a bucket of paint into a black hole. Vane didn't just block the attack; he swallowed the concept of the lasers.
[Absorbing 'Geometric Yellow'...] [Experience Gained: +500 XP]
Vane lunged forward. He was faster now, his [Saturation] reaching a point where he could push back against the "Fractured Perspective" of the room. He grabbed the sentinel's pyramid-base with his bare hands.
"You are just a drawing," Vane hissed, his fingers sinking into the solid marble like it was wet clay. "And I am the one holding the Eraser."
"[Absolute Saturation: Heavy-Pressure Crushing]!"
The Rank 6 sentinel let out a dissonant, screeching sound as Vane's ink-black energy invaded its structure. The vibrant yellow and blue of the creature began to fade, turning into a dull, lifeless grey. Its "Logic" was being overwritten by Vane's "Void."
CRUNCH!
The sentinel shattered into a million colorless pieces.
[Level Up! Level 18!] [Ink-Well: 60% Filled.] [New Passive Unlocked: 'Conceptual Weight' (Rank F).]
The other sentinels hesitated. For the first time in centuries, the "Abstracts" felt something they weren't programmed to feel: Irrelevance.
Vane didn't give them time to think. He turned to Lyra. "Eat."
Lyra didn't need to be told twice. She shot forward like a maroon shadow, her "Void-Hound" instincts taking over. She didn't use a spear; she used her claws and teeth, which were now reinforced with Vane's ink. Every time she struck a sentinel, she drained a portion of its speed, her own movements becoming even more erratic and impossible to track.
As they moved deeper into the Gallery, the architecture changed. The "Cubism" faded, replaced by "Surrealism." Clocks melted off the walls; the floor turned into a river of liquid clocks; and the gravity shifted ninety degrees every few seconds.
"This is the 'Curator's' handiwork," Lyra panted, her maroon suit now covered in the grey dust of her kills. "He is trying to disorient us. He wants us to lose our 'Sense of Self'. In this zone, if you forget who you are, you become part of the painting."
"Lose my sense of self?" Vane stopped in front of a massive, melting mirror. He looked at his reflection. He saw the "Old Vane"—the weak, shivering Static. Then he saw the "Sovereign"—the black void.
Vane punched the mirror.
"I am the man who died in the Zero Depth," Vane's voice boomed, echoing through the halls of the Gallery. "I have no 'Self' left to lose. I am only the Hunger!"
Suddenly, a new voice rang out. It was deep, cultured, and filled with a terrifying, calm authority.
"Impressive. Truly impressive."
Vane and Lyra looked up. At the end of the long, surrealist hallway, a man sat on a throne made of white marble and gold leaf. He wore a crisp, white suit with a sapphire cravat, and his hair was slicked back with perfection. In his hand, he held a silver palette-knife.
This was The Curator. A Rank 8 Master of the Radiant Wing Guild.
"To think a Static could reach this far," The Curator said, standing up. "Lord Caelum was a fool. He thought you were a smudge. But I see you for what you are, Vane Varkas. You are a Negative Masterpiece. You are the mistake that shouldn't have been painted."
"The 'Mistake' is about to finish this gallery," Vane said, his shroud expanding until it filled the entire hallway.
The Curator smiled, a thin, sharp line. "In this Gallery, I am the Law. I am the one who decides what is 'Real' and what is 'Background'."
He flicked his palette-knife.
"[Art-Physics: The Curator's Frame]!"
Vane suddenly felt his body freeze. A literal, golden picture frame manifested in the air around him. It wasn't a physical cage; it was a "Definition" cage. Inside the frame, Vane's power was restricted. He was no longer a "Sovereign"—he was being turned into a "Still Life."
[Warning! Structural Law Applied!] [Host's Saturation is being 'Locked'.] [Condition: You are being turned into an 'Object'.]
"Master!" Lyra cried out, lunging at the Curator.
"Stay back, dog," The Curator said, not even looking at her. He waved his hand, and a wall of "Solidified Atmosphere" slammed into Lyra, pinning her against the wall with the weight of a mountain.
The Curator walked toward the framed Vane, his palette-knife glowing with a terrifying, white-hot light.
"You see, Vane? You are just a subject in my collection. I will strip the ink from your bones and use it to paint a new sky for the Upper Heavens. Your death will be the most beautiful thing I have ever created."
He raised the knife, aiming it at Vane's throat.
Vane looked at the knife. He felt the "Still Life" curse trying to turn his heart into stone. He felt his "System" struggling against the Rank 8 Law.
He thinks... he can frame the Void? Vane's mind roared. He thinks a 'Law' created by a man can hold the power of the Zero Depth?
Deep within Vane's soul, something snapped. It wasn't a level-up. It was a Breakthrough.
The black ink in his veins didn't just vibrate; it boiled.
"Curator," Vane whispered.
The Curator stopped, his knife just an inch from Vane's neck. "You... you can still speak?"
"You keep talking about 'Art'," Vane said. The golden frame around him began to crack. Not from physical force, but from a Corrosion of its very existence. Black ink began to leak out of the cracks, hissing as it touched the light.
"But you don't know the first rule of the Void," Vane's eyes turned completely violet, the rings spinning with insane speed.
"Before the Frame... there was the Blank Page."
"[SOVEREIGN SKILL: UNPAINTED REALITY]!"
KRA-KOOM!
The golden frame exploded. The explosion didn't create fire; it created a Zone of Non-Existence. For a hundred meters in every direction, the Curator's "Laws" were deleted. The melting clocks, the marble throne, the solidified air—it all turned into white nothingness.
The Curator screamed as his white suit turned grey. He fell to his knees, his Rank 8 Saturation being drained by the very air Vane was breathing.
"What... what is this?!" The Curator gasped, his eyes filled with terror. "My Law... my Gallery... it's all gone!"
Vane walked through the white void, his steps silent. He was no longer just a man. He was a God of the Eraser.
"You wanted to put me in a frame," Vane said, grabbing the Curator by the throat. "Now, you get to see what happens when the painting is finished."
Vane didn't use [Pigment Drain]. He used something far worse.
"[RENDER: THE CURATOR'S DOOM]."
Vane forced his own ink into the Curator's body, overwriting the man's internal biology with Abyssal Physics. The Curator's skin turned into cracked canvas. His blood turned into black paint. He wasn't dying; he was being Re-Drawn.
[Ding!]
[Major Boss Defeated: The Curator (Rank 8).] [Experience Gained: +50,000 XP!] [Level Up! Level 19... Level 20... Level 25!] [Acquired Title: 'The Gallery Breaker'.] [New Summon Base Acquired: The Living Canvas.]
Vane dropped the "New" Curator—now a silent, faceless servant made of ink and marble—to the ground. He turned to Lyra, who was staring at him with a mixture of awe and holy terror.
"Master..." she whispered. "You... you reached the 25th Level in a single stroke."
Vane didn't answer. He looked at the center of the white void, where a single, ancient artifact was floating. It was a simple, wooden palette, but it vibrated with the power of the First Ocean's Creation.
[The First Canvas].
Vane reached out and took the artifact. The moment his hand touched it, the entire Sunken Gallery began to collapse. The Second Ocean's physics were re-asserting themselves, and the white void was being filled with the crushing weight of the water.
"We're leaving," Vane said, his voice echoing through the crumbling ruins. "The Shallows are finished. It's time to move to the Third Ocean."
As they stepped back onto the Ghost Ship, Vane looked at his new Level 25 stats. He was no longer a "Static" struggling for air. He was a Sovereign who had just stolen the foundation of the world.
"Guild Master," Vane whispered, looking at the ceiling far above. "I hope your 'Prismatic Storm' is ready. Because I'm coming to wash away your sky."
The ship shot upward, leaving the destroyed Gallery behind. The Second Ocean had lost its Curator, and the Abyss had found its throne.