There it stood—tall, sleek, monstrous in its elegance.
Its frame was humanoid, yet profoundly wrong. Too symmetrical. Limbs stretched just past proportion, edges too smooth, motion too fluid—like reality itself struggled to maintain grip on its outline. Its presence didn't warp the world.
It rejected it.
Jack stared, frozen.
Even perceiving the Being felt distorted, as though sight itself was being asked to violate sanity. His heart thundered—not with excitement, but with instinctive dread.
"What… is this?" he whispered, breath shallow.
The words felt fragile. Unworthy.
He—the once untouchable force of the floors—felt something unfamiliar coil in his chest.
Inferiority.
"How is it so… unbeatable…?"
The answer came immediately.
BOOM.
Jack vanished.
His body was flung across the jagged terrain like debris, spinning end over end. Bone cracked on impact. He tore through black stone, carving a trench with his body before slamming to a halt. Blood sprayed across the ground. His limbs twitched.
Wind passed over him.
His snow-white hair fluttered—not with arrogance, but with something colder. His grin was gone. In its place, a tight, grim silence.
His eyes still glowed purple-black—but faintly now. Like dying embers.
He pushed himself up. Slowly.
His aura erupted instinctively—dark flames howling outward, shaking the floor itself. Space rippled. Stone fractured.
And yet… it felt small.
Jack screamed and launched forward, fists cloaked in raw dimensional force, every step cracking the ground beneath him.
He struck.
Too slow.
The Being didn't evade. It didn't block.
Jack's fist passed through it—like striking a gap in existence.
CRACK.
Pain detonated across Jack's side as a counterstrike landed. His ribs collapsed inward. Blood burst from his mouth. The air exploded with the force.
Another impact followed instantly—clean, absolute.
Jack was airborne again, hurled into a towering spire. Stone disintegrated on contact. His shoulder shattered. His vision blurred. His breathing turned ragged.
There were no taunts.
No expressions.
This wasn't combat.
It was correction.
Jack staggered upright, trembling but refusing to fall.
"No…" he rasped. "I'm not done."
Even as he said it, something inside him knew.
This time… he might truly lose.
He charged again.
His aura screamed, space folding over itself as he unleashed everything—dozens of strikes layered through warped dimensions, teleporting mid-combo, bending laws he had long since mastered.
The Being stood still.
It didn't resist.
It simply existed beyond the violence.
Jack felt contact—felt resistance—and for a fraction of a second, hope sparked.
Then—
Snap.
His wrist bent backward at an impossible angle.
A cold hand closed around his throat.
Jack was lifted effortlessly, his body dangling, aura crackling wildly as it destabilized.
BOOM.
The ground erupted as he was slammed down.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Each impact crushed more than bone. His thoughts fractured. His breath vanished. His aura flickered—unstable, incoherent.
A final strike drove him into the earth, a massive crater forming beneath him.
Jack lay there, twitching.
Blood streamed from his mouth. His ribs were crushed. His arms lay twisted.
He tried to move.
Failed.
The Being stood over him for a moment.
Then turned away.
Not in mercy.
In dismissal.
Jack's pride shattered harder than his body.
"…I really lost…" he whispered.
A tear of blood traced down his cheek.
His aura collapsed into fading smoke.
For the first time in his ascent—
Jack was defeated.
Not dead.
Broken.
The 99th floor fell silent.
Only the sound of his breathing remained.
Then—
The Being stopped.
It turned.
Its head tilted slightly.
No sound. No emotion.
Then it moved.
Not fast.
Not slow.
Just elsewhere.
A glint.
SHUNK.
Jack's body froze.
Pain arrived before comprehension. He looked to his right.
His arm was gone.
Not severed.
Removed.
No blood spilled. No sensation followed. His mind couldn't process the absence.
"…What… is it doing…" he whispered, voice cracking.
His eyes dimmed with disbelief.
This wasn't a fight.
This was demolition.
CRACK.
His ribs shattered
He was lifted and flung backward, skipping across the obsidian field like a lifeless doll. Every impact carved trenches into the land until he finally stopped—lying motionless.
Jack coughed hard. Blood poured from his mouth. His left hand dug into the ground as he tried to rise, but it trembled violently. His snow-white hair clung to his bloodied face, fluttering under the crushing, unnatural pressure.
The Being walked forward.
No sound. No urgency.
Jack forced himself onto his knees, dragging his broken body upright through raw defiance. His grin was gone. His pride—crushed.
This wasn't an opponent.
It was a force. An apex predator built to erase power.
"…I can't win like this…" he muttered, breath uneven, still trying to stand. He clenched his jaw, his left hand rising again, aura flickering—unstable. "But I… I won't fall here."
The Being blinked.
BOOM.
It was already beside him.
A backhand struck his face. Jack flew like a ragdoll, his body snapping sideways. His back slammed into a jagged spire of rock, shattering it on impact. He dropped face-first to the ground, unmoving.
No music.
No flashback.
No victory scream.
Only silence.
And the faint sound of wind brushing past the Being's motionless frame.
Jack hadn't won.
Not even close.
And the floor wasn't over.
It was just watching.
The Being moved again.
No sound. No warning.
Just motion—raw and perfect.
In an instant, Jack was lifted from the ground, his body snatched like a feather caught in a storm.
BAM! A brutal strike to the gut.
CRACK! A spinning blow crushed into his ribs.
WHAM! An uppercut sent him hurling through the air—but before he could land, BOOM! Another hit slammed into him mid-air.
Then another.
And another.
And another.
Each strike came faster than thought, like reality itself was punishing him for resisting.
Jack was driven endlessly backward, his body twisting in broken spirals through mountains of jagged terrain. With every impact, his mind flashed—not with pain, but with memories. Of the mind realm. Of whispers. Of something deep inside him trying to reach out. Trying to wake him.
But it was drowned out by the violence.
Suddenly—silence.
The Being had vanished again.
Jack's vision spun. Time slowed to a crawl.
Then—
CRASH.
It reappeared above him in midair, arms raised.
FINAL STRIKE.
The Being brought both fists down like judgment itself.
The world ruptured.
Jack's body was driven into the earth like a meteor, dust and blood exploding outward as a massive crater tore open. He didn't scream. He couldn't. He lay there… motionless.
Half-buried in shattered ground, blood streamed down his face. His snow-white hair was dulled, matted with dust and crimson.
One eye barely remained open, its purple-black glow faint and unstable. His lips trembled. His breathing… shallow.
The Being stood over him.
Staring. Silent.
It didn't move.
It didn't leave.
It only watched—as if waiting to see whether this… thing before it… could still rise.
Jack had not won.
He hadn't even scratched it.
And for the first time since his awakening…
He looked powerless.