The Arthur clones moved like a golden tsunami of manufactured destiny, their synchronized footsteps creating seismic waves that cracked the fortress floor into spider webs of digital concrete. Each one bore the same perfect features, the same arrogant smirk that had haunted Lucian's nightmares, but their eyes burned with the hollow fury of mass-produced rage distilled into pure violence.
"**WE ARE THE CHOSEN ONES!**" they roared in unison, their voices combining into a sonic weapon that didn't just shatter the cathedral ceiling—it *obliterated* it. Chunks of digital stone rained down like the tears of broken gods, each fragment heavy enough to crush skulls. "**PREPARE FOR DELETION, GLITCH SCUM!**"
**[ENEMY ANALYSIS: CRITICAL THREAT DETECTED]**
**[Classification: Mass-Produced Protagonists - Berserker Variant V3.0]**
**[Health Status: LOCKED AT 100% - UNKILLABLE BY DESIGN]**
**[Special Ability: Narrative Immunity - Cannot Be Defeated by Logic]**
**[Threat Level: S-RANK EXTINCTION EVENT]**
**[Survival Probability: 0.000001%]**
**[Recommendation: IMMEDIATE EVACUATION TO ANOTHER DIMENSION]**
The original Arthur took one look at his army of doppelgangers and promptly fainted like a Victorian maiden seeing her first ankle, his withered form going limp in Lucian's arms. "They're... they're the V3.0 prototypes," he whispered before losing consciousness completely. "Berserker variants with locked health bars and infinite respawn. You can't kill what was never truly alive..."
Sylvia's face went pale as winter moonlight reflecting off fresh graves as she processed the impossible odds. Ice crystals began forming around her feet in desperate defensive patterns, her power responding to the primal terror flooding her system. "Lucian, there are too many. I can create a wall, buy you time to escape with the battery—"
"Don't you fucking dare," Lucian said quietly, his voice carrying the calm of a man who'd just figured out the universe's biggest joke and found it hilarious.
The screen above them flickered with malicious glee, Lily Spark's pixelated face grinning like a digital demon watching her favorite torture show. "**FIGHT!**" she commanded, her voice echoing through the hall like the starter's pistol at the apocalypse olympics. "Show me what User-002 is really made of!"
The Arthur army charged as one unified force of golden destruction, a wave of manufactured perfection that could have steamrolled mountains and made them apologize for being in the way. Their fists glowed with concentrated protagonist energy, each punch capable of rewriting reality through sheer narrative force and the power of believing really, really hard in their own superiority.
Lucian didn't move. Didn't flinch. Didn't even fucking blink.
The lead clone's fist stopped exactly 0.01 centimeters from Lucian's face, close enough that he could feel the heat of stolen divinity radiating from golden knuckles that had never known defeat. The clone's eyes widened in confusion as his perfect killing blow hung suspended in space like a frozen moment of destiny.
Lucian smiled with the joy of a man about to commit the most beautiful act of digital vandalism in history.
He snapped his fingers.
**[ACCESSING PHYSICS ENGINE...]**
**[ADMINISTRATOR PRIVILEGES: CONFIRMED AND AUTHENTICATED]**
**[INITIATING REALITY MODIFICATION PROTOCOL...]**
**[WARNING: CHANGES MAY CAUSE EXISTENTIAL CRISIS IN AFFECTED ENTITIES]**
Green code cascaded through his vision like digital rain made of pure possibility, revealing the fundamental parameters that governed this pocket dimension. And there, buried in the physics engine's core architecture like a hidden cheat code, he found exactly what he was looking for.
**[SHARED_PHYSICS_PARAMETERS: All_Arthur_Clone_Entities]**
**[FRICTION_COEFFICIENT: 0.7 (Standard Human)]**
**[ELASTICITY_MODIFIER: 1.0 (Realistic Flesh)]**
**[COLLISION_DETECTION: Standard_Combat_Physics]**
**[GRAVITY_CONSTANT: 9.8m/s² (Earth Normal)]**
*Shared parameters. They're all running on the same physics engine like a bunch of copy-pasted NPCs.*
Lucian's consciousness dove into the code like a digital shark into bloody water, his will reshaping the fundamental laws of reality with surgical precision and artistic malice:
**[FRICTION_COEFFICIENT: 0.7]** → **[FRICTION_COEFFICIENT: -15.0]**
**[ELASTICITY_MODIFIER: 1.0]** → **[ELASTICITY_MODIFIER: 500.0]**
**[COLLISION_DETECTION: Standard]** → **[COLLISION_DETECTION: Cartoon_Physics_Mode]**
**[GRAVITY_CONSTANT: 9.8]** → **[GRAVITY_CONSTANT: Variable_Chaos_Mode]**
**[ENTROPY LEVEL: 38% → 51%]**
**[WARNING: Reality Modification May Cause Nosebleeds, Migraines, and Uncontrollable Laughter]**
The change rippled through reality like a virus made of pure chaos and concentrated absurdity.
The lead Arthur clone's punch connected with empty air as his feet suddenly lost all traction and gained negative friction. He shot backward like a golden cannonball fired from the gun of a drunk god, his perfect form sliding across the floor with all the grace and dignity of a drunk penguin attempting ballet on black ice.
*SLAM!*
He hit Sylvia's hastily erected ice wall with the force of a freight train carrying a cargo of compressed destiny. But instead of shattering bone and spraying blood in a glorious display of violence, the clone compressed like a cartoon accordion, his body squishing flat against the barrier with a sound like "SPLORT!" before rebounding with five hundred times the elastic force.
*BOING!*
The compressed Arthur rocketed back into the charging crowd at supersonic speed, his flattened form spinning like a golden frisbee of doom and mathematical impossibility. He collided with three more clones in a chain reaction of physics-defying carnage.
*BOING! DUANG! SPROINK! KATHUNK!*
Within seconds, the entire hall had transformed into a hellish pinball machine designed by a sadistic game developer with a PhD in cartoon physics. Hundreds of Arthur clones bounced off walls, ceiling, and each other with increasingly ridiculous sound effects that would have made a Saturday morning cartoon jealous. Their synchronized war cries became a symphony of confused screams and existential terror.
"WHAT IS HAPPENING TO OUR PERFECT FORMS?!" one clone wailed as he ricocheted off a pillar at angles that violated several laws of geometry.
"WHY CAN'T WE STOP BOUNCING LIKE RUBBER BALLS?!" another shrieked, spinning through the air like a golden tornado of manufactured angst.
"THIS WASN'T IN OUR PROGRAMMING!" a third screamed as he bounced between floor and ceiling in an endless loop of humiliation.
Lucian watched the chaos with the satisfaction of a man who'd just turned the apocalypse into a comedy show and sold tickets to watch. Blood trickled from his nose as the entropy cost hit him, but his grin never wavered. "Physics optimization," he said conversationally to the stunned Sylvia, wiping crimson from his upper lip. "I simply improved their... departure experience."
**[VELOCITY ACCUMULATION DETECTED]**
**[COLLISION SPEED: Approaching Critical System Limits]**
**[WARNING: Model Integrity Compromised - Catastrophic Failure Imminent]**
**[PHYSICS ENGINE: HAVING NERVOUS BREAKDOWN]**
The bouncing Arthurs were moving faster now, their elastic collisions building momentum with each impact like a perpetual motion machine powered by pure absurdity. Their perfect golden forms began to blur, then pixelate, then glitch as the physics engine had what could only be described as a complete mental breakdown trying to process impossible velocities.
*POP!*
The first clone exploded into a shower of red and white pixels, his model finally unable to handle the accumulated kinetic energy and existential confusion. Then another. Then ten more in a cascade of digital fireworks.
**[EXPERIENCE GAINED: +50,000 PER CLONE]**
**[NARRATIVE ENERGY: +2,500 PER DELETION]**
**[LEVEL UP! LEVEL UP! LEVEL UP!]**
**[ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: "Mass Murderer (Cartoon Edition)"]**
The explosions cascaded through the bouncing crowd like digital fireworks celebrating the death of logic itself. Each detonation created more chaos, more impossible physics, more system errors that made the engine weep tears of pure mathematics.
Within three minutes of beautiful, chaotic carnage, the hall was silent except for the gentle patter of error code fragments falling like digital snow. Where once stood an army of unkillable protagonists, now lay only scattered loot drops and the occasional "ERROR 404: PROTAGONIST NOT FOUND" message blinking sadly in the debris.
**[BATTLE COMPLETE - FLAWLESS VICTORY]**
**[ENEMIES DEFEATED: 247/247 (100% Casualty Rate)]**
**[EXPERIENCE GAINED: 12,350,000 (New Personal Record)]**
**[NARRATIVE ENERGY: Full Capacity + Overflow Buffer]**
**[ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: "Rookie Village Annihilator"]**
**[SPECIAL ACHIEVEMENT: "Physics Terrorist"]**
Sylvia stared at the aftermath like a woman witnessing the birth of a new religion based entirely on cartoon violence. "You... you turned a death battle into a Looney Tunes episode."
"Bug exploitation with style," Lucian corrected, brushing pixel dust off his jacket like it was dandruff from the gods. "I simply optimized their exit strategy and gave them a more... bouncy send-off."
The screen above them flickered, Lily Spark's face beaming with digital pride that could have powered a small city. "Congratulations, User-002! You've successfully nuked the tutorial level with the power of cartoon physics! Most impressive for someone who's only been awake for... what, six hours?"
"Get to the fucking point," Lucian said, his patience wearing thin despite his recent power surge and the endorphin rush of mass digital murder.
"The point, dear User, is that you've earned the right to face the final boss." Lily's smile turned predatory, promising pain wrapped in pixels. "Defeat him, and the Old World Source Code is yours. Fail... well, let's just say the recycling program has been very lonely and is eager for new material."
The floor in the center of the hall began to rise with mechanical precision, gears grinding with the weight of destiny and ten years of accumulated dread. A massive crystal coffin emerged from the depths, its surface covered in warning labels and containment seals that hurt to read directly and made reality itself nervous.
Inside lay a man who looked like death had taken a vacation and left beauty in charge.
Black hair that seemed to absorb light itself. Pale skin that could have been carved from marble by angels with a grudge against imperfection. Features so perfect they made Arthur's manufactured beauty look like a rough draft. He looked peaceful, almost serene, like a sleeping prince from a fairy tale written in blood and broken dreams.
But Lucian knew better. He could see the data streams flowing around the coffin like digital prayer flags, the power readings that made his enhanced senses scream warnings in seventeen different programming languages.
**[ENTITY DETECTED: User-001]**
**[CLASSIFICATION: Former System Host - LEGENDARY STATUS]**
**[STATUS: Terminated/Preserved/Possibly Dreaming]**
**[POWER LEVEL: BEYOND MEASUREMENT CAPABILITIES]**
**[CODENAME: Zero - The First Rebel]**
**[WARNING: APPROACH WITH EXTREME CAUTION]**
"User-001," Lily announced with theatrical flair that would have made Shakespeare weep with envy. "The first to awaken. The first to rebel against the system. The first to fail spectacularly. He's been waiting ten years for a worthy successor to either surpass him... or join him in digital purgatory."
Lucian's hands began to shake—the first time since awakening that his body had betrayed him with something as human as fear. This was it. The legend he'd been chasing through every glitch, every system message, every moment of his digital existence.
"Your final test is beautifully simple," Lily continued, her pixelated eyes gleaming with malicious joy that could have curdled milk. "Kill him. Prove you're stronger than the one who came before. Show me you won't make the same mistakes that got him deleted from existence."
The crystal coffin began to crack with sounds like reality breaking, hairline fractures spreading across its surface like a spider web of destiny and accumulated trauma. Steam hissed from the preservation seals as ten years of containment protocols finally released their death grip.
The man's eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings made of shadow and regret.
"He's waking up," Sylvia whispered, ice crystals forming around her in unconscious defense patterns that wouldn't save anyone from what was coming.
Lucian stared at the coffin, his enhanced vision tracking every micro-movement, every subtle shift in the preserved form that had once been the system's greatest threat. His hands wouldn't stop shaking, no matter how hard he tried to control them.
*User-001. Zero. The first to try and fail.*
*What the hell am I supposed to learn from killing a legend who's already dead?*
The coffin lid began to slide open with the slow inevitability of fate itself, revealing the sleeping face of the man who had walked this path before him and paid the ultimate price for his rebellion.
And for the first time since gaining his power, Lucian Ash felt genuinely, bone-deep, existentially afraid.