Ethan finished the final sequence of his preparations and stood still, letting the silence settle.
This was it.
The moment before a battle where survival itself was uncertain.
But failure was not an option.
Ethan stood at the center of his private chamber. The air around him shimmered faintly, distorted by the residual heat and pressure left behind by his preparations.
He exhaled slowly.
For someone of his current caliber, death was rarely final. Bodies could be replaced. Souls could be reconstructed. Consciousness could be restored from fragments stored beyond time.
But this situation was different.
If this clone died, something far worse would be lost.
His happiness would die with it.
Ethan understood this truth with terrifying clarity. If this body was destroyed by a perfected Absolute Continuum existence, he would lose the ability to feel happiness forever. It would not return with resurrection. It would not regenerate with cultivation.
