Striver saw moments of his life rushing past him — flashes, wounds, regrets, things he wished had burned away long ago. For the outside world it lasted only seconds, but inside the mindscape it felt like hours of emotional torment. Not physical pain… something worse. Something older.
His mind raced, trying to fight, trying to push back, but every attempt vanished into nothing. No progress. No resistance. Just wave after wave of memories he wanted to forget.
For the first time in a long time, he felt helpless — a feeling he had buried, denied, and hated.
When it became too much, he forced himself to breathe. Slow down.
Feel the ground.
Feel the air.
Open your eyes.
Tears still clung to his face as he looked at everything he feared: his past, his failures, the things he tried to outrun. And for a moment, he almost gave up.
Then he sensed it — a tiny distortion, the smallest ripple in the space outside the mindscape. Someone was trying to force their way in.
Layla.
The realization hit him hard. She was still trying to reach him… still trying to save him. And the thought warmed him — but also stabbed at him. Was he always the one being saved? Who was the real damsel here?
King Wraith watched from the darkness, a vicious smirk twisting over its face. Its voice echoed everywhere and nowhere, layered like broken glass.
"Looks like your lady friend wants to enter my domain. Impossible."
It burst into laughter. "You're going to lose here. Die here."
Striver couldn't help but smile.
"Sorry for worrying you, Layla," he whispered.
The tears stopped. His expression hardened.
He couldn't hide from his emotions anymore — anger, pain, sadness — so he faced them.
He pressed a hand to his head, and energy erupted from him like a broken star. The mindscape shook, yet remained unmoving, and the Wraith's smile stretched wider.
But then something happened.
The energy didn't stop.
It kept rising.
And rising.
And rising.
There were no limits. No boundaries. No container. Striver's power just kept going.
The Wraith's expression cracked — real fear bleeding through.
He had copied Striver's abilities, yes… but only now did he understand the awful truth: he had copied a scratch of Striver, not the source. And a scratch was nowhere near enough to kill him.
He tried reflecting the power — pushing, resisting, clawing — but nothing worked. The pressure kept building. The mindscape began to destabilize, shaking violently, its walls tearing open into the Creator's own domain.
Striver smiled as all the unleashed energy gathered into his hand, compressing tighter and tighter. It became a sphere of flickering light and darkness, glowing like a broken star mixed with a dying sun.
The Wraith panicked, trying to flee.
Too late.
A tiny sphere appeared beside it — silent, deadly.
Then the explosion came.
It shook the void itself, ripping through space with impossible force. The Wraith was erased instantly, vaporized in the blast.
Outside, Layla felt it too.
She had been pushing against the barrier when suddenly all of space quaked. Time rippled violently. Even the void trembled, as if creation itself was afraid. And then she felt something no goddess of time and space should ever feel:
Death.
Not her own — but the concept brushing against her. Something ancient and overwhelming, something that should not have existed outside the Creator.
Her instincts overpowered logic. She pulled back into the void, bending time and space to form a massive dome. A shield that absorbed, deflected — anything to keep her alive. But even it began to crack.
The blast reached her.
The force crushed against her form, overwhelming even divine durability. Her healing kicked in, but the strain was too much. Time itself trembled, like the universe was seconds away from disappearing.
Just as the barrier shattered—
A hand touched her back.
Everything vanished.
She appeared billions of kilometers away in an instant.
Layla gasped, stunned — both by the sudden safety and by the only person who could have grabbed her like that.
Striver held her, steady and calm, even though the aftershock of the explosion was still rolling across reality.
"Do you mind?" she muttered, trying to push his arm away.
"Come on. Just a little longer," he said with a tired smile.
She sighed, but didn't fight him. She didn't mind — not this time.
He noticed. And tried to pull her into a full hug… until her voice cut him off:
"I haven't cracked eggs in a while."
He froze. Every instinct in him shivered. He knew exactly what she meant — a level of pain even he preferred not to imagine.
He released her immediately and stepped back, trying to ignore her soft giggle.
Her laugh made his heart stumble — her voice had always been captivating, but hearing her laugh almost pulled him in by instinct alone. Too perfect. Too dangerous. Too much.
The explosion finally faded.
Then the new scent hit them — unfamiliar, sharp, wild.
Creatures emerged from the settling void, thousands of them. Doglike bodies, six legs, two horns, power radiating off each one like heat.
Striver cracked his knuckles.
"Well… they won't leave just because we ask nicely."
Before Layla could even respond, he launched himself forward into battle.
She exhaled and shook her head.
Same Striver as always.