Surviving These Unfair Scenarios [LITRPG - DIMENSION HOPPING]

Drake remained on one knee, his sword planted firmly in the ground to keep him upright. His left hand clutched his stomach where the gaping wound still poured blood. His body trembled, but not from fear, but from the natural effort of keeping himself from collapsing, while his glare was fixed on Adam, unyielding, burning with fury and defiance.

The pain surged with every breath, yet he refused to fall. His lungs wheezed under the pressure of the damage, and blood stained his lips as he exhaled, but even so, he kept his back straight and his eyes locked forward. He had failed… In that critical moment, the opportunity to end everything had slipped from his grasp, undone by an unexpected skill. He didn't know how Adam had used Nikolai's [Silver Tongue], but he had, and it had frozen Drake's body for just long enough to rip victory away from him.

Adam stood a short distance away, still smiling, still amused. He had stepped back after freeing himself and now paced casually, his expression calm and delighted. His hand brushed against his regenerating neck as if brushing away dust. The wound that had nearly severed his head was already vanishing beneath threads of pulsing undead parasitic flesh knitting back together. With each passing second, the damage faded more and more until only smooth skin remained.

He laughed quietly to himself, tilting his head as if marveling at the absurdity of what had just happened. Then he turned toward Drake and began walking forward again, each step slow and deliberate, his voice rising with mirth.

"That was close."

He said, a smirk pulling at his lips.

"Closer than I thought it would ever get. You almost did it, really. You almost killed me."

He stopped just a few meters away, watching Drake with keen, curious eyes.

"You didn't hesitate. Not even for a second. No sentimental pause, no tearful doubt, no self-righteous speech about saving your friend… You just went for the kill."

He chuckled again and tilted his head.

"It was beautiful."

His voice darkened as he continued, and though the smile never left his face, the tone was laced with something deeper, more sinister.

"I can see in that darkness inside your soul: the pain, the fury, the jealousy, the emptiness clawing at your chest. You're so desperate to hold on to something, anything, just to feel like there's meaning. Even if it means stepping over those closest to you."

He leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing.

"You hate me, but not for what I've done to you. You hate me because I took something from you, something you think was yours by right. That anger, that possessiveness, that envy—it's beautiful. I can clearly see the contradiction to your actual soul, something else has tainted you, but it's not new, it only released what was already there."

Drake said nothing, blood trickling from his mouth, his grip tightening on his sword. His mind raced, desperate to think of anything that could shift the tide back in his favor. His entire midsection was in agony, the spear had gone clean through, and even now he could feel the damage radiating through every nerve. But his body hadn't collapsed, and that alone meant his title [He who succeeds in the impossible] was still active, barely holding him together. He needed to act soon, but any movement now would be noticed. He was been watched too closely.

Adam exhaled and looked down at his hand. With a casual flick of his fingers, a familiar object materialized. The [Malzaphir's Forbidden Tome] appeared in his grasp, dark and humming with chaotic energy. Adam held it like a cherished relic, his fingers stroking the aged leather cover as if recalling an old memory.

"You'd make a fine undead."

He mused, almost to himself.

"Not a mindless one, no, something greater. Your body is strong, your will is monstrous. But there's a problem…"

He turned a page with reverent ease, scanning the ancient runes that lined each one.

"That divine energy inside you, it's too pure, too tied to your soul and body. Corrupting you the usual way would take too long, maybe even be impossible."

His voice didn't falter, his tone never changed. It was like he was reading a recipe.

"Still, there might be something in here that can help. This book is full of solutions. I have time and we're not in a rush, are we?"

Drake remained motionless, his eyes watching every movement Adam made. His thoughts turned inward. His specialization [Pill Alchemist] could heal him, it could fix this if he could just find the right moment to act. The divine pill he had created once before could stabilize him long enough to recover. But using it would require focus, a small gesture at the very least, something that Adam would surely notice. Any shift in energy, any flicker of intent, and the possessed boy would be on him. The only possible chance was if Adam looked away, even for a second.

But how could he make that happen? He looked at his sword, the 'Eclipse-Crowned Vermillion Dragon', reduced to its essence and trapped within the flames surrounding the blade. It would take several minutes more before the spirit could return to its physical form, so Drake was alone. His thoughts pulsed with urgency, the pain dulling his clarity, but he endured.

Adam continued flipping through the tome, his fingers dancing across lines of cursed knowledge.

"This is fascinating, and I was here thinking this book was just a relic, or something to manipulate the weak and desperate at best. But the things in here, the ideas, the methods… They're genius. Malzaphir may be a devil, but he understood the foundations of death better than anyone, even I'm amazed!"

He looked up briefly, flashing another smile.

"Don't worry. I'll find something just for you."

Just as he was about to return his eyes to the tome, a sharp sound rang through the distance—an explosion. It echoed from the far side of the plaza, loud and sudden enough to cut through the tension like a blade. Adam paused, his head turning slightly toward the noise. A second explosion followed, and then a third. His expression shifted for the first time since the fight had begun, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

He narrowed his gaze toward the source of the commotion, then looked down at the book once more, fingers tightening on its cover.

"Now what could that be?"

Suddenly, two missiles sliced through the air at high speed, their mechanical wail echoing across the broken plaza as they hurtled toward Adam. The explosions were immediate and violent, twin bursts of fire and smoke engulfing him in a rolling wave of energy. The ground shook, dust surged upward in a chaotic plume, and for a moment it seemed the attack might have had some effect.

But when the smoke cleared, Adam was still standing exactly where he had been. He hadn't moved at all, the impact had landed squarely on him, and yet not even the slightest scratch marked his flesh.

The boy turned his head slowly. For the first time, he noticed the presence of others. Presences that had slipped beneath his awareness while he was too absorbed in his own thoughts, too focused on the ritualistic search within the forbidden tome to sense them earlier. His eyes, still glowing with crimson fury, scanned the plaza now stirred by movement.

From one direction, Gregor and Chloe appeared at a run. Both of them looked bruised and dirty, but unbroken. Gregor clenched his fists, while Chloe gripped a handful of steel needles between her fingers, her expression twisted with anxiety and worry. On the other side, Emir emerged with a mix of hesitation and courage etched across his pale face. He was terrified, but still moved forward, determined to stand with the others. High above, standing atop a ledge, Li held his spellbook open, his fingers glowing faintly with the residue of the missiles he had just launched.

The reason for their coordinated arrival traced back to Katya. Though she hadn't moved from her earlier position, her tulpa—the slender, clawed figure that had accompanied Gregor and Chloe after her body swap—had followed her mental command and delivered a warning. Since their tulpas had the ability to talk and even a kind of ego on their own, saying the message was relatively fast and easy. Once the soldier and the pink-haired girl understood the situation, the tulpa raced again, this time to the other members of the team.

There was no need for lengthy explanations once the others received the message. As they made their way back from the outskirts of the battlefield, the signs were too blatant to ignore. The air had changed, the temperature felt colder, and the light seemed thinner. Then the ghostly entities began to appear—first as faint figures in the distance, then in increasingly dense waves that surged forward with mindless aggression.

They quickly realized that these weren't random apparitions but the ghosts that Adam summoned. All of them knew the truth that Adam carried within him. From quite some time since their time together, they had known about the spirit bound to him—the Undead Empress sealed by the Mark of the Damned. It had been a source of concern, even when the boy managed to seal her before the last scenario. But now, with the pressure of that corrupted presence suffusing the area, the conclusion was unavoidable and terrifying.

Gregor didn't speak a word when the realization hit him. He simply clenched his fists and pushed forward, smashing through the ghosts without hesitation with his modified gun, with Chloe following behind him the best she could. Far from them, Emir hesitated the longest. His fear was real and overwhelming, but he kept moving, forcing his legs to carry him forward because he knew that if they didn't stop this now, none of them would make it out. Fortunately, for some reason, the ghost didn't attack him at all.

Even as they fought their way through the ghostly onslaught, they were not alone. They were still carrying the unconscious bodies of Dragon Utopia's fallen members, whom they had beaten. It wasn't a choice they could afford to make—they couldn't leave them behind to be overwhelmed by the treaty they had with Meera, but carrying them slowed them down, forced them to protect more than just themselves. Still, they endured, relying on coordination and quick thinking to split the burden and open a path toward the city's center.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity of resisting attacks from all directions, they reached the boundary of the central plaza. There, for a brief moment, the ghost waves began to thin. Something about the area ahead was different. It wasn't that the danger had lessened, but rather that the concentration of power was so intense within the plaza that the minor spirits dared not approach. It was clear to all of them that the real battle was happening there. They laid down the wounded gently, shielding them behind debris or in half-crumbled buildings just beyond the plaza's edge.

They didn't have the luxury of rest or further planning. The moment they were sure their fallen enemies wouldn't be trampled or consumed by stragglers, they turned and ran into the eye of the storm, hearts racing and weapons drawn. Each of them knew that whatever awaited them inside was beyond anything they had faced before—but it was their teammate inside that nightmare.

Back at the heart of the battlefield, Adam watched the gathering with interest. His initial frown faded, replaced with a slow smile. He looked amused, as if surprised that the insects crawling into his domain were familiar faces. With a dismissive gesture, he closed the ancient tome and let it vanish from his grasp. His fingers wrapped around the cursed spear again, the aura of death condensing around its tip.

"So, it seems others want to play too."

Adam said, his voice still layered with the echo of the Empress. The amusement in his tone was venomous.

However, that single moment of distraction was all it took.

A streak of white light burst from behind him, faster than the eye could follow. Before Adam could turn fully, Kazue, riding atop the massive white tiger Kurayami, dashed across the broken terrain with impossible speed. The beast's paws barely touched the ground before it leaped, and the girl reached down. She grabbed Drake's limp arm, heaved him upward, and pulled him onto Kurayami's back without pausing.

Adam's eyes widened, and he snapped his gaze toward the retreating motion, realizing what had happened. Kazue was already racing away, her body low, arms wrapped around Drake as Kurayami carried them swiftly toward the edge of the plaza.

"Drake! What happened to you?!"

She shouted, her voice breaking with panic. The blond didn't answer; he was barely conscious and with blood still leaking from the gaping wound in his abdomen. But his hand twitched, and he gave a soft, audible sigh of relief. Then, his fingers moved, and a small pill of brilliant light appeared in front of him. Without hesitation, he swallowed it. It would take less than a minute for its effect to restore him, but even a few seconds felt like a lifetime… Time that was not granted.

Adam appeared in front of the massive tiger in an instant, blocking their path with a smile that had turned sharp and cold.

"How rude, interrupting me in the middle of something important."

He said calmly. Kazue yanked on Kurayami's reins, eyes wide as she registered the figure before her.

"Adam?"

She said, her voice barely more than a whisper. She recognized the body, the face, the glasses... But the long white hair, the red eyes, and the suffocating aura made it undeniable—this wasn't Adam anymore, or at least not the Adam they knew.

Without giving her a chance to react further, the possessed boy thrust his spear forward, aiming for Kurayami's skull. But Kazue responded immediately, thanks to the adrenaline running through her body, canceling the summoning skill. The tiger vanished in a flash of white, and the spear sliced through empty air. However, the momentum sent both her and Drake flying forward from the sudden absence of the mount beneath them.

Before they could brace or hit the ground, a dark presence surged toward them.

Tendrils made of pure spectral energy erupted from Adam's back and lashed forward with lightning precision. They wrapped around Kazue and Drake's necks in a constricting grip, hoisting them upward, suspending them before him like dolls. The sudden violence was brutal. Their bodies dangled in the air, unable to move, their limbs kicking reflexively.

The red glow in Adam's eyes intensified.

"You shouldn't have done that."

He said with a voice so distorted that it no longer sounded like Adam. The words were his, but the tone, the contempt, the disdain, the seething anger beneath every syllable belonged to someone else entirely.

Another volley of missiles howled through the air, trailing smoke and sparks as they zeroed in on their target. The projectiles hit Adam directly, detonating with thunderous force, sending bursts of flame and debris into the surroundings. The shockwaves echoed through the plaza, shaking loose tiles from nearby buildings and sending cracks through the already damaged pavement.

But as the smoke dispersed and the flames faded, the figure at the center of the explosion remained perfectly still, completely untouched. His white hair flowed in the windless air, his skin unmarked, and his captives still choking on his spectral tentacles, without him moving a single step. His head slowly turned, crimson eyes scanning the battlefield, and he saw them. The others were still moving toward him. The impact had been theatrical, but meaningless. His lips curled slightly, amused.

From above, Katya leaped. The moment she had seen Kazue restrained, her hesitation vanished. Without thinking, she threw herself from the rooftop where she had been hiding, her figure descending like a shadow as her scythe danced in her hands. She didn't shout, she just moved, driven by a mix of instinct and desperation.

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Across the plaza, the team mobilized together. Gregor raised his rifle without hesitation and pulled the trigger. The familiar whine of the [Energy AK Reaver] roared to life, and streams of energy bolts flew toward Adam in quick succession, their impacts lighting up the area. But every shot passed through him harmlessly. His form flickered with each strike as he shifted into intangibility, making the devastating weapon nothing more than light in the wind. Adam tilted his head as if bored, letting the shots continue without even acknowledging them.

The [Karma Devil Ball], flying erratically in the air, zipped forward in a sharp zigzag. Its energy pulsed as it closed in, preparing to unleash its sealing skill barrier. But just as it reached striking distance, Adam raised his arm without even glancing at it. One of the long, sinewy tendrils coiled in the air like a serpent and lashed forward with brutal force, slamming into the ball with a loud crack. The sentient artifact was knocked aside like a toy, spinning through the air until it crashed into a distant wall.

Li remained on higher ground, arms shaking slightly as he held his spellbook open with one hand and channeled what little magical energy he had left. There was no time for rest, and no reserves for stronger spells. All he could do was keep firing the missile spell. The arcane script on the book glowed faintly as another barrage launched, whistling down toward Adam. More explosions, more fire... But again, when the smoke lifted, the boy stood without so much as a wrinkle on his skin. He didn't even look up to acknowledge them anymore.

Katya, having landed near the center of the plaza, charged directly at him. Her living scythe screamed with distorted voices as it swung, the blade came down with full force, but Adam raised his cursed spear with a single hand and met the strike head-on. The moment the two weapons touched, a burst of spectral energy surged from his weapon, and the blonde's scythe cracked apart, its spine-like shaft snapping, its jagged blade shattering into fragments. The living weapon howled in agony before vanishing into black dust.

Without waiting, another tendril burst from Adam's back and wrapped around Katya's throat, lifting her off the ground effortlessly. Her feet kicked in the air as she tried to free herself, but the grip was unrelenting. The boy exhaled as if disappointed.

"Perhaps I expected too much."

He muttered, more to himself than anyone else. His voice echoed, layered with that same otherworldly resonance that came with the presence of the Empress.

"In the end, you're all just trash. Not even worth forging into proper death knights."

Adam raised one arm slowly, and the ground beneath each member of the team began to tremble. Cracks spread outward from where they stood, and then the surface split open violently. From the depths emerged a mass of spectral tendrils and skeletal hands, twisted and malformed, each one radiating dark energy and the stench of death.

They surged upward in chaotic unison, some long and clawed like the fingers of giants, others barbed and twitching as if alive. The earth seemed to scream as these abominations tore their way out, reaching for the nearest living targets.

Gregor reacted immediately, turning on his heel and firing a spray of energy rounds toward the encroaching limbs. The [Energy AK Reaver] lit up in his hands, the weapon releasing bursts of concentrated energy that scorched several of the tendrils in his path. One shattered on impact, its remains dissolving into mist, but for every one he destroyed, two more surged forward. He sidestepped and fired again, this time catching a clawed limb in mid-swing, severing it just before it could reach his throat.

Still, the relentless advance overwhelmed him. A thick tendril wrapped around his thigh, pulling him downward, while bony fingers clawed at his jacket. He shouted and tried to free himself, but another hand grasped his rifle and yanked it away, sending it clattering to the ground.

Li struggled nearby, already weakened from his previous spells. His fingers trembled as he tried to cast another missile barrage, the incantation forming on his tongue. But a jagged bone-hand shot up with precision, seizing his wrist and wrenching it sideways with unnatural strength. The pain forced a cry from his lips, and his spellbook slipped from his grasp, its pages flaring briefly before vanishing. As he reached for it, two more arms emerged behind him—one curling tightly around his chest and pinning his arms to his sides, the other wrapping around his legs like a coil. He struggled for breath as he was dragged back toward the center of the disturbance, his feet scraping helplessly against the ground.

Chloe turned to run, panic in her eyes, but she didn't get far. Her boots had barely left the ground when one of the spectral tendrils shot from below and wrapped tightly around her ankle. She screamed as she was pulled backward and lifted into the air, her limbs flailing helplessly. One by one, they were all restrained… All except Emir.

The boy's eyes widened in terror as he saw the others being captured. But unlike the others, he didn't hesitate. Without any warning, he raised one of the glowing cubes in his hand, gripping it tightly as his voice rang out.

"Noctharis, partial release!"

The cube trembled, vibrating with a low hum as a terrible shriek echoed from within. The sound was unnatural, like a thousand beasts crying out at once. Shadows burst outward, and from the center of the black smoke emerged a massive, skeletal arm. Long and thin, its surface was covered in veins of glowing crimson energy. Its hand ended in elongated claws, and from the joint of its shoulder extended half a torso with a head shaped like a twisted goat's skull, eyes glowing red. The presence of the demonic god was overwhelming, and the entire air around Emir grew thick with oppressive pressure.

The summoned limb lashed out at the skeletal hands and tendrils going for Emir, and tore them apart with ease. The ground cracked from the sheer force of its movements, and dark energy bled from every wound it inflicted on Adam's conjurations. The creatures shrieked as they were annihilated, reduced to fragments of bone and black mist.

Adam raised an eyebrow.

"I take it back, at least one of you is worth keeping."

He said calmly. And without another word, he pulled back his arm and entered a throwing stance. His spear appeared again in his hand, and then, in an instant, he hurled it toward Emir. The motion was so fast it blurred, breaking the sound barrier as it tore through the air.

The demonic arm moved to intercept, claws spread wide. But the cursed spear didn't even slow down. It tore straight through the limb, cutting through Noctharis's summoned body like it was paper. The demon roared in pain, its voice shaking the buildings, before dissipating instantly into black vapor, returning to the cube in Emir's hand.

But the spear continued forward. The boy had no time to move, and the weapon grazed his cheek with surgical precision, but even a glancing blow was enough. A long gash split open across his face, and a moment later, pain unlike anything he had ever experienced surged through him. Unlike Drake, Emir lacked any divine protection or resistance to cursed energy; his absorption ability was a clear disadvantage in this case.

The malice embedded in the spear's enchantment invaded his body like a virus, sending black veins spiraling from the wound. He fell to the ground, convulsing, clutching his head as he screamed in agony.

Adam smiled. There was nothing subtle about it. His expression twisted into one of pure satisfaction, as if he had just crushed a particularly interesting insect. He raised his arm again, fingers still extended from his previous throw, and with a single motion, he called the spear back. It shot through the air in reverse, spinning as it returned to his grip, landing cleanly in his palm.

He then looked around him and saw the result of his efforts: the entire team subdued, their bodies restrained, their resistance utterly broken. The ghostly tendrils and skeletal limbs held them aloft or pinned them to the ground like dolls without purpose, their strength gone, their spirit drained. He let out a laugh—cold, mocking, and filled with satisfaction. He raised his voice so all could hear, his gaze sweeping over the defeated warriors.

"It was pointless from the very beginning. You should've stepped aside and allowed the ghost apocalypse to swallow this land. You would have saved yourselves some suffering."

But then, through the quiet, there came a faint, wheezing sound—barely audible at first. A choked, breathless giggle. Adam turned his head, eyes narrowing, noticing that the sound came from Kazue. She was still suspended in the air, the dark tendrils coiled tightly around her neck, her body twitching weakly from the lack of air. Yet somehow, impossibly, she was laughing.

He tilted his head, his tone more curious than irritated.

"What's so funny?"

The girl didn't answer at first. Her face was pale, her mouth slightly open, fighting to form words as her throat convulsed under the pressure. Blood trickled from her lips. Still, she forced herself to respond, gasping in ragged intervals between each phrase.

"We… we never thought… we could stop you…"

Her voice was strained, barely more than a whisper.

"Not if… not if it was you… we were fighting…"

Adam blinked, his expression unreadable, waiting for more. Kazue coughed, and her voice cracked as she forced the final words out.

"But… we bought… the time… we needed…"

Adam let out a scoff, shaking his head slowly.

"Time? What time? It's been barely over two minutes. What could possibly—"

But before he could finish his sentence, the sky above them split open with a piercing howl. A beam of light descended like a spear hurled by the heavens, roaring with divine energy and crashing into the ground not far from where Adam stood. The impact shook the earth, sending violent shockwaves in every direction. Dust and debris were flung into the air. Even Adam had to raise an arm to shield his eyes.

From within the crater formed by the impact, a figure rose. At first, it was hard to make out through the residual light, but as it dimmed, the form became clear. A young man stepped forward, lean and athletic beneath a sharp crimson uniform, its trim black and silver. His hair was sculpted upward like a crown of flame, and his eyes gleamed with eerie calm, devoid of humanity. Etched onto his chest was a strange insignia—a gear surrounding a humanoid skull, its mechanical eye glowing faintly.

Adam stared. The sensation that struck him wasn't just the strength of the impact or the appearance of another foe—it was the unnatural stillness that came with it. He felt no heartbeat, no life. And yet, the presence that this being exuded was tremendous. Enough that even he had to take it seriously. His brows furrowed.

"What?! What is that thing?!"

But there was no time for answers. From the far side of the square, Drake's massive sword, which had remained lodged in the scorched earth since his earlier rescue, trembled suddenly. The flames along its edge surged to life, and in the next instant, it shot across the field like a divine arrow. In mid-flight, it was caught effortlessly by its true wielder. In one swift, decisive slash, the blade cut through the tendrils that held him, then sliced clean through the ones wrapped around Kazue and Katya, freeing them both in the blink of an eye.

Drake, now free of any restraint, stood tall, the wound in his stomach gone. Adam turned in shock. His eyes locked on Drake, and his voice rose in disbelief.

"How?!"

He didn't get his answer, since a blur of movement struck him from the side. The momentary distraction cost him dearly. Mecha Sun Ja-In had moved like lightning, and with a mechanical fist reinforced by unknown divine ki energy, he struck Adam squarely in the torso. Though the boy managed to raise his cursed spear in time to intercept the blow, the sheer force of the impact drove him deep into the stone ground, cracking the earth beneath him. Energy exploded from the point of contact, raw and unnatural, enough to force Adam's body downward with a harsh grunt.

Mecha Sun Ja-In calmly stepped back, his expression unchanging.

"Threat detected."

He said in a precise monotone.

"Ally's body is compromised. Immediate suppression protocols are the best course of action."

Adam rose from the shallow crater, his grin gone, his teeth clenched. His red eyes locked onto the two before him—Drake, renewed and defiant, and the robotic warrior, composed and inhuman. His rage boiled to the surface.

"So you think you have a chance now? You think just because you're a little stronger, that I'm beaten?"

The aura around him began to pulse violently, his spiritual energy growing darker, more twisted, more lethal.

"I haven't even begun to show you my true power."

The pressure that spread from Adam's body made the air around him shimmer, and the sky above them dim slightly. Both Drake and the mechanical warrior tensed. The escalation was real, and it was dangerous.

Then another voice shouted across the battlefield.

"Done!"

Suddenly, everyone turned instinctively toward the direction of the call. Even Adam froze… The energy that now surged from behind him was suffocating. It warped the atmosphere, as if gravity itself had increased tenfold. From the circle drawn with arcane paint near the edge of the plaza, Angela stood panting, her eyes locked on the center of her summoning circle, where the air tore open like fabric.

Adam barely managed to turn his head before something sliced through the air faster than any of them could see. A streak of light, followed by a sharp sound—a wet, splitting crack.

He screamed… His right arm, the one still holding his spear, had been severed entirely at the shoulder. It flew through the air and hit the ground some distance away. Blood gushed from the stump, and for a moment, his regeneration failed to activate. He clutched the wound with his remaining hand, his body trembling as the pain overwhelmed even his enhanced senses. The damage was too deep, and the cut was too clean to the point that it had delayed his parasite's recovery because it didn't realize there was a cut to begin with.

He gritted his teeth, snarling as he looked forward to see what had attacked him. There, standing now beside Drake and Mecha Sun Ja-In, was a third figure…

The summoned copy of Angela's past ally stood with calm confidence. He was tall, wearing a pristine black school uniform. His dark hair was short, and in each hand he wielded a blade—one a massive claymore, the other a katana.

Information flickered briefly across Adam's vision. A System prompt.

Adam's snarl deepened, his fury mounting as he looked from one opponent to the next. They were three now. One reborn from the brink of death, one who felt no life yet fought like a god, and one whose existence defied logic, born of memory and loyalty, cutting with precision even he could not counter.

For the first time, the Undead Empress inside Adam's body faltered… He could feel it.

Even with all his strength, even with the cursed knowledge and energy granted by the devil Malzaphir, he couldn't win in this state. Against Drake alone, the fight was even. But with two others—each as powerful or more dangerous in different ways—he had no hope.

And still, despite the pain radiating from his half-regenerated limb, despite the pressure weighing down on him from three directions at once, even though the battlefield had completely shifted out of his control, he laughed.

Quiet at first. A low, strained chuckle that slipped from between clenched teeth. Then louder… Stronger… The laughter echoed across the ruins of the plaza, growing from amusement into hysteria. His body trembled as it escaped him, a sound born not of victory but of something darker, and more primal. His head tilted back, and his shoulders shook. The laugh carried with it a raw desperation, an unfiltered defiance against everything closing in around him.

When the laughter stopped, it was abrupt, sudden, like a switch. His smile lingered for a moment longer, but his eyes had lost any hint of joy. They were hollow, filled with rage held back by a thread. He exhaled, not in defeat, but in bitter exasperation.

"Why… can't you just leave me alone?!"

He asked, voice trembling with restrained fury.

"Why is it… that no matter where I go, no matter what I do, there's always someone who gets in the way? I never asked for any of this. I just wanted to be alone. I just wanted a home. Somewhere no one would take from me again!"

His fingers curled tighter into the flesh of his shoulder. Blood dripped between them.

"But no… of course not. There always has to be someone like you. Always someone who plays dirty. Who cheats. Who brings THEM!"

His eyes lifted, and his mouth twisted into something between a snarl and a smirk.

"Well… if you want to cheat… then I'll cheat too."

Without waiting for a reply, Adam raised his one good arm. He extended it forward, palm open, fingers splayed wide. Drake reacted immediately. His body moved almost by instinct, his muscles tensing as he lunged forward with all his strength.

"Stop him!"

He shouted. Mecha Sun Ja-In and Jeongu Kim followed at once. The robot surged forward, mechanical limbs rotating slightly to adjust for maximum acceleration. Jeongu Kim blurred ahead with terrifying speed, blades flashing as he closed the distance in a fraction of a second. The three charged in unison, aiming to interrupt Adam before whatever he intended could be completed.

But it was too late.

A pulse spread outward from Adam's body, not one of energy, but of stillness. Drake froze mid-step, one foot hovering just off the ground. Mecha Sun Ja-In's fist was drawn back, ready to strike, yet stopped in place. Jeongu Kim was less than a few steps away, his twin blades poised to cross in a killing arc, and yet he, too, was held in stasis. Suspended as if time had been frozen.

A system window materialized in front of Adam's face, its text plain and unavoidable:

It was a Plot Device that belonged to Angela originally, which was traded to Adam before the battle, just in case, as part of the plan, and sadly, it was now used against them. The boy exhaled slowly, letting his arm lower a fraction. All sound had died, and nothing moved. The only thing that existed was the beating of his own heart, steady and slow. He opened his eyes fully, the red glow behind them intensifying as his lips parted and his voice rose.

"Arianka!"

He called.

"Awaken from your slumber! Come before me—your Empress commands you!"

There was no echo, yet the words carried across the frozen battlefield with impossible weight. The summoning didn't require arcane circles or complex rituals. The knowledge implanted in the Undead Empress by Malzaphir had revealed everything. What had happened in Pantheon Eternal, the birth of the goddess, and the link she shared with his current self.

Then the sky darkened… Not like clouds gathering, but as if the very light of the sun had been drained. The blue above them turned grey, then black, and the stars that should have hung there were swallowed by an unseen veil. The temperature dropped. The shadows lengthened, and a fracture split the air directly above the plaza, visible to the naked eye, a rift in reality itself. It was not a portal. It was not space being torn. It was the concept of "sky" ceasing to function properly.

Still frozen in time, the others could do nothing. Drake remained half-crouched, his blade raised, unmoving. Ja-In's sensors flickered inside the metal casing of his skull. Jeongu Kim's blades were mid-arc, barely an inch from Adam's throat.

And finally, from the widening fracture in the sky, something pulsed—like a heartbeat.