An Extra’s POV

'Damnit…'

Rey stood in the heart of the twisted dimension, his breath steady despite the chaos around him.

Adrien clones filled the void.

"What an interesting sight, Rey!"

"You've lasted this long. I can't even count how many 'mes' you've killed at this point."

"Impressive! Very impressive!"

"But it's no use, you know?"

"Just give up!"

Thousands—maybe millions—surrounded him in all directions, smirking with the same confident grin, the same cruel eyes, each one identical yet subtly different in power and presence. The space around him was warped, like a canvas of shattered glass painted in endless hues of red and violet. Stars hung motionless in the sky like dead embers, and time itself felt frozen, or perhaps stretched.

This was Adrien's world now.

Rey clenched his fists, his entire body bathed in sweat and blood—none of it his own. Around him, the broken bodies of fallen Adrien clones scattered like paper dolls, fading into light. He stood on a surface that didn't exist, held aloft by sheer will, energy surging like a storm through his veins.

He spun his blade in a circle and pointed it at the wall of clones ahead.

"Next."

In a blur, the Adrien in front of him lunged, wielding two spectral blades. Rey sidestepped the strike, bent low, and shot upward with a rising slash laced with lightning. The clone exploded into sparks. Two more took his place.

Rey didn't falter—he moved like a phantom, leaving afterimages as he weaved between them.

[Skill Activated: Ultimate Shadow Mirage]

[Skill Activated: Ultimate Bloom]

[Skill Activated: Ultimate Astral Counter]

Each motion became instinct.

Each parry, each strike, felt smoother than the last.

He no longer needed to call the Skills by name in his mind—they were flowing from him like muscle memory long forgotten. The deeper he fought, the more natural it became.

He could feel it.

The System.

Responding to his will.

Feeding his growth.

[You have Leveled Up.]

[Level 1,790 → 1,800 → 1,910…]

But even as his body adjusted, even as his combat ability sharpened with every death dealt, every strike landed, he knew what Adrien was doing.

He was stalling.

Rey leapt high into the air and pointed both hands down.

[Ultimate Eternal Infernal Lattice – Vortex Variant]

Black chains of heat and pressure burst from his arms, wrapping around dozens of clones and crushing them in a sweeping spiral of death. The ground cracked as their bodies imploded, but more Adrien clones took their place, as if death meant nothing to them.

"I'm not playing your game forever," Rey muttered.

Above him, dozens of portals opened again, vomiting more Adriens into the battlefield. Some were cloaked in flame. Others glowed with necrotic energy. Some wielded twin scythes, others cast magic circles that twisted the space between dimensions.

And still, Rey fought.

His legs moved on instinct.

His sword flickered from one angle to the next.

His eyes, glowing faintly with divinity, tracked each motion like a veteran general dissecting a battlefield.

"You're not going to stop me here, Adrien. I know what you're doing. You want time to break H'Trae."

Rey blasted forward, slicing a clone in half as another blasted fire toward his side. He raised one hand.

[Ultimate Primal Barrier – Light Form]

A dome of golden energy shielded him from the inferno. He rushed through it, slicing the caster in two before it could even flinch.

Another Skill—this time through pure instinct.

A part of him wondered just how far this would go.

Another part of him… didn't care.

Because he couldn't stay here forever.

As another barrage of enemies launched toward him, Rey slashed his blade downward, sending a wave of compressed light through them, then stood still in the middle of the storm.

He closed his eyes for a moment.

… And prayed.

"Please. Everyone… just hold on a little longer. I'm coming back. I promise."

*************

[Meanwhile…]

The skies over H'Trae were blackened.

The battlefield lay in ruins.

The Northern Continent, once full of life, death, and defiance, had been silenced into a graveyard of only carnage and despair.

"Haa… haaa…"

Adonis dropped to one knee, golden armor cracked and drenched in blood. His golden sword, dim now, was buried in the dirt beside him. The air reeked of ash and magic, and his breath came in shallow bursts.

He raised his head slowly.

Lucielle's body lay still nearby—her wings tattered, her tail limp, and her horns cracked. Her chest barely moved, blood pooling beneath her.

She had died—even when she fully transformed to her Dragon Emperor state, she still met a miserable end. Her only saving grace was the [Evil Personified] Skill that preserved her life despite the many times she suffered death.

Still, her body was paralyzed, repeatedly going through the cycle of regeneration and degeneration—powerless to stop any of it.

And what about the others?

Fae... was gone.

Her lifeless form cradled in the arms of a clone the Fairy King, her maker. Even in death, she had a wide grin displayed… showing how fulfilled she was at her demise.

This was always how she wanted to go out.

Far ahead, the final line held—but only barely.

The Fairy King's main body stood at the front, his entire body surrounded by torn winds and glittering petals. His strength was beyond normal understanding, but even he was being pushed back. Beside him, The Oracle chanted spell after spell, activating numerous Skills at once, her face pale and her hands shaking.

And looming before them...

An Adrien.

But not like the others.

This one was different.

Taller. More refined. Drenched in energy so potent the ground under his feet melted with every step. He didn't speak. He didn't gloat.

He just pressed forward, raising one hand—and cracking through even their strongest barriers.

Their strongest defense had just failed.

Hope… was slipping.

Adonis growled through clenched teeth, spitting blood as he pressed his hand into the dirt, trying to stand.

Everything inside him screamed to stay down.

To rest.

But he couldn't.

Not yet.

He looked around again—at the people behind him. The wounded. The dying. The children shielded by broken parents. He looked at Lucielle's face.

And then… he made his decision.

"Looks like…" he muttered, blood dripping from his lips, "I have no other choice…"

His voice was quiet.

But the world felt it, and soon… so did everyone else.