The Hall of Eternal Logic was not a physical space; it was a conceptual arena. Here, the floor was made of "Totaled Wealth," and the ceiling was the "Weight of Law." The Seven Primes stood like colossal statues, their Rank 9 signatures so dense that the air around them flickered with the blue-and-gold fire of the System's core.
"You bring a scavenger's crew to face the Architects of Reality?" The Prime of Order sneered, his form a geometric perfection of white marble. "We are the constants. You are the variables. Variables are always eliminated."
[FIELD EFFECT: ABSOLUTE HIERARCHY]
[DEBUFF: ALL ATTACKS BELOW RANK 9 REDUCED BY 90%]
"I've always been bad at math," Kenji said, his voice low and vibrating. He looked at his team. "Everyone... this is it. They represent the Ranks. We represent the Scrap. Show them that even a broken gear can stop a machine."
Kenji didn't wait. He unleashed the [Star of Blinding Truth]. The 90% debuff flickered. The "Absolute Hierarchy" was a rule, and Kenji had just seen the code behind it.
"Go!" Kenji roared.
The battle exploded.
Bjorn vs. The Prime of War:
The Prime of War summoned a thousand spectral blades, each one a Rank 8 weapon. Bjorn didn't flinch. He used the [Recursive Iron] Kenji had forged into his axe. Every time a spectral blade hit Bjorn, his axe remembered the impact.
"You fight with the glory of battle," Bjorn laughed, his blood spraying across the glass floor. "I fight with the stubbornness of a man who won't stay down!"
With a roar, Bjorn unleashed [Recursive Cleave]. The axe didn't strike once; it struck ten thousand times in a single microsecond, echoing every hit it had ever taken. The Prime of War's armor built on the logic of "Undefeated Glory" shattered under the weight of a thousand "Honest Defeats."
Elara vs. The Prime of Fate:
The Prime of Fate wove threads of golden light, trying to map Elara's future. "In every thread, you die, Volkov. Your bloodline ends here."
"Then I'll weave my own thread," Elara replied. She channeled the [Stasis Diamond's] residual energy through her frost. She didn't freeze the Prime; she froze the future. The golden threads turned to brittle ice. Elara shattered them with a single strike, proving that fate is just a plan until someone changes their mind.
Mateo & Zola vs. The Primes of Wealth and Logic:
The Prime of Wealth tried to "buy" their mana, draining their cores by assigning them a "Market Value: Zero."
"Zero?" Mateo grinned, his fingers dancing over a scrap-built jammer. "In a world of scrap, zero is just a starting point!"
He and Zola worked in perfect synchronization. Zola compressed the "Worthless" lead of the floor into a singularity, while Mateo "Overclocked" the logic-stream. They didn't beat the Primes with power; they caused a "Conceptual Market Crash," leaving the Primes bankrupted of mana.
Kenji vs. The Prime of Order:
The Prime of Order was the strongest, a direct reflection of the Architect's will. He moved with a precision that bypassed time itself.
"You are a Master Apex, Kenji Tanaka," the Prime said, his hand closing around Kenji's throat. "But I am the System. I am the reason you have a Rank at all. I can simply... unmake you."
Kenji felt his atoms beginning to drift apart. The [Total Revision] was touching him through the Prime's hand.
[SYSTEM ALERT: DELETION IN PROGRESS... 15%... 30%...]
Kenji reached into his robes and felt the cold metal of the Rank 0 locket Priya had given him. He felt the weight of the six Stars. And then, he felt something else. The Seven Primes weren't people. They were programs.
"The difference between us," Kenji gasped, his eyes turning a blinding, iridescent white, "is that I was born. You were compiled."
Kenji didn't use the Void. He didn't use the Hunger. He used [Soul-Merge Recycling].
He didn't kill the Prime of Order. He merged with the Order. He reached into the Prime's core and found the "Command Line."
[INPUT: RE-RANK AS SCRAP]
The Prime of Order let out a digital scream. His marble skin began to rust. His geometric perfection collapsed into a pile of jagged, mismatched parts. The strongest guardian of the System had been turned into junk.
The hallway fell silent. The remaining Primes, seeing their leader "Recycled," dissolved into raw data, retreating into the final door.
Kenji stood alone in the center of the hall, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His skin was flickering, translucent, and glowing with the combined light of the Stars.
"Kenji!" Elara ran to him, but she stopped inches away. The air around him was so distorted by gravity and void that it was physically painful to be near him.
"Stay back," Kenji said. His voice was no longer a voice; it was a broadcast. "The Architect is waiting. If I go through that door, I might not come back as the man you know."
"We know," Kael said, her hand on her hip, her eyes fierce. "But you're the only Smith we've got. Go fix the world, Kenji."
Kenji looked at his friends the warriors, the healers, the scavengers who had become legends. He gave a single, sharp nod, and the final door the Source Gate melted away before him.
He stepped into a white void. There were no Ranks here. There was only a workbench. And sitting at the workbench was a man who looked exactly like Kenji, only much, much older.
The Architect.
"Welcome, Kenji," the old man said, not looking up from a tiny, glowing gear he was filing. "You're just in time for the end of the world. Would you like to help me finish the Seventh Revision?"