The Dark Web split open.
Not like a glitch.Not like corrupted code.
This was deliberate.
The static sky tore apart as a vast eye-shaped sigil burned into existence, layered with impossible symbols that rewrote themselves faster than thought. The pressure was instant—crushing, absolute, far beyond anything the glitch monsters or shadow villains had produced.
Everyone felt it.
Equinox dropped to one knee.RobbRox's constructs froze mid-creation.Even the environment stopped shifting, as if the Dark Web itself was bowing.
"That presence…" Frostbinder whispered. "This isn't a domain boss."
Brush's aura reacted violently, flaring on its own, Erasure and Determination colliding instinctively.
"No," Brush said, staring upward. "This is a god."
From the裂—an endless vertical tear of black and crimson code—something descended.
A towering figure formed from layered data halos and streaming void, its body composed of pure Dark Web authority. Countless eyes flickered across its form, each one reflecting erased worlds, banned knowledge, and deleted histories.
Its voice did not echo.
It overwrote silence.
"CHOSEN ONE," the entity intoned."I AM A CURATOR OF FORBIDDEN TRAFFIC.""YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED TO EXIST HERE."
The Dark God's presence alone began to strip levels from the team—stats bleeding away, abilities dimming, the system forcibly weakening them.
"It's nerfing us just by standing there!" FooTube gasped.
Brush stepped forward anyway.
Every step was resistance.Every breath was defiance.
"You sent glitches.""You sent shadows.""Now you send a god?"
The Dark God's many eyes narrowed.
"YOU HAVE BROKEN LOOPS.""SURVIVED ERASURE.""FORCED DOMAIN ESCALATION."
The sigils behind it ignited.
"FOR THAT… YOU WILL BE REMOVED."
The Dark Web reacted instantly.
A proto-domain began forming beneath the Dark God—vast pillars rising, gravity inverting, reality flattening into a ritualized battlefield designed to execute anomalies.
Trojan Horse tightened her grip on her lance, fighting the pressure.
"Brush… this thing isn't like Crunchyroller.""I know," he replied calmly.
His aura stabilized—no longer wild, no longer flaring.
Focused.
"That's why I won't fight it like a player."
The Dark God raised one hand.
The world froze.
"FINAL WARNING, CHOSEN ONE.""SUBMIT TO DELETION."
Brush met its countless eyes without blinking.
"No."
Determination detonated outward—not as raw power, but as identity. The Dark Web staggered, its own code resisting the reaction.
For the first time…
The Dark God paused.
"IMPOSSIBLE."
Brush smiled faintly.
"Yeah," he said. "You're gonna hear that a lot."
Above them, the forming domains across the Dark Web accelerated, responding to the god's presence.
This wasn't just a battle anymore.
It was the moment the Dark Web's rulers realized:
The Chosen One was not a bug.He was a threat to gods