The silence after the correction entity vanished was unnatural.
Not peaceful.
Anticipatory.
The tower's observers continued to run, but their readings flattened into something unfamiliar—no fluctuations, no instability.
No movement.
Elowen hugged herself. "It's… too quiet."
The assistant nodded slowly. "This isn't recovery. It's recalibration."
The Demon King stood at the edge of the sealed void, eyes fixed on the space that no longer existed.
"They're changing the method," he said.
---
Far beyond reality, observation ceased being passive.
The observer adjusted its scope.
Not to the world.
To him.
---
Across the planet, subtle changes began.
Magic costs increased.
Teleportation failed unpredictably.
Certain abilities stopped responding entirely.
Not broken.
Restricted.
Elowen gasped as her golden light flickered.
"It's limiting interaction," she whispered. "Reducing influence without direct interference."
The assistant clenched his jaw. "They're isolating us slowly."
The Demon King turned.
"Then we expand faster."
---
The tower responded instantly.
New floors unfolded in layers never accessed before. These were not beast halls or weapon vaults.
They were conceptual floors.
Reality anchors.
Causality regulators.
Outcome buffers.
The tower was no longer just reacting to the world.
It was preparing to contest existence.
---
In the Celestial Realm, gods felt the shift and panicked.
"This is beyond us now."
"We're irrelevant."
One god whispered, voice hollow.
"He's escalating against the observer."
---
Elowen walked to the Demon King's side.
"If it keeps restricting things," she said quietly, "eventually the world will suffocate."
The Demon King looked down at her.
"Then we make breathing independent."
She blinked. "You mean—"
"Yes."
He raised his hand.
Across the world, the tower's domain adjusted subtly. Regions under its protection stopped relying on ambient laws. Local rules stabilized independently.
Magic returned.
Movement resumed.
Life adapted.
The restriction failed.
---
Far beyond reality, something paused.
For the first time, the observer encountered counterplay.
Interest sharpened.
Pressure mounted.
The assistant felt it and spoke carefully.
"My King… observation has become hostile."
The Demon King's expression did not change.
"Good," he replied.
"Now it's honest."
The tower pulsed once—slow, deliberate.
And somewhere beyond all known systems—
A watcher began to plan.