Ascend Through the Void

I tightened my stance, reading the words carefully. It was precisely as I'd anticipated. The previous void creatures, though coordinated, had relied on crude tactics. But this… this was different. Now, I faced myself at my strongest—an enhanced and perfected version.

The dark void shuddered, its surface rippling like liquid glass disturbed by an unseen hand. As the distortion shimmered and flickered, a shadowy figure emerged, its outline clarifying with each passing moment as it stepped fully into this strange reality.

The new void creature dwarfed its predecessors, a towering figure of polished obsidian. Its exoskeleton gleamed, thicker and more robust than any I had witnessed. Its blade limbs were not merely longer; they were thicker and more muscular, the blades themselves honed to a terrifying sharpness, radiating an aura of lethal intent. This wasn't a copy; it was an enhancement, a grotesque evolution of my own form, twisted and amplified.

Its exoskeleton resembled polished black stone, impossibly hard, far surpassing the resilience of my own. The limbs were not just thicker, but also articulated with an unnerving fluidity, each joint moving with a sinuous grace that belied the deadly force they could unleash. The blades, longer and sharper than my own, seemed to hum with contained power. The moment it moved, I *felt* the difference.

It wasn't just fast—it was controlled speed, honed to a razor's edge. Precise. Powerful. The earlier void creatures had merely mimicked me, clumsy imitations of my honed skills. This one had refined everything, stripping away any imperfections, and amplifying every strength to a terrifying degree.

And then, without hesitation, it attacked.

I barely registered the initial movement. It lunged with terrifying speed, its blade limb a blur of motion, cleaving through the air with lethal intent, aimed directly at my head.

I instinctively brought my own blade limbs up in a desperate parry—

The force of the impact reverberated through my entire body, a shockwave of raw power that sent me skidding backward across the void floor. My legs dug furrows in the strange, ethereal void surface as I fought desperately to maintain my balance, the unnatural material offering little purchase. My limbs trembled from the sheer power of the blow, a jarring reminder of the gulf in strength between us.

Too strong.

Before I could fully recover, before I could even process the initial attack, it attacked again. This time, it targeted my blind spot, exploiting the brief moment of vulnerability created by its initial assault.

I twisted my head, engaging [Compound Vision] to track its movement—

But it had already anticipated me. It knew I would look and had factored that reaction into its attack.

Its blade-limb descended—swift, precise, a perfect strike aimed to cripple my right forewing, the same one already damaged from the previous encounter.

I dodged. Barely. The blade whispered past my face, close enough to feel the displaced air, a chilling reminder of the precision of its attack.

I retaliated, slashing forward in a desperate attempt to create an opening, aiming for its torso, a vulnerable point in its otherwise heavily armored form.

But it mirrored my attack with unnerving precision, twisting its body in the exact same way I would have, the movement so perfectly synchronized that it was as if we were two halves of the same being.

My blade limb glanced harmlessly off its reinforced exoskeleton.

Not even a scratch.

---

I leaped back, legs coiled like springs, desperately trying to reassess the impossible situation.

Nothing was working.

I had fought against overwhelming odds before, facing three opponents at once, their coordinated attacks a relentless assault. I had battled fast, unpredictable enemies, foes that tested my reflexes and forced me to adapt on the fly, their movements erratic and difficult to anticipate. I had fought against enemies that could mirror my movements, mimicking my techniques with uncanny accuracy, forcing me to confront distorted reflections of my own fighting style. But this…

However, this presented an entirely different level of challenge, a shift in perspective akin to combat.

This void creature wasn't just mimicking me—it was perfecting every technique I had ever used, refining them, honing them, executing my skills with superior timing, sharper precision, and absolute, ruthless efficiency. It was as if it had taken my combat manual and rewritten it, making every move faster, stronger, and more deadly.

I couldn't overpower it. Its exoskeleton was denser, reinforced like living armor, offering near-impenetrable protection. My previous strategy of targeting weak points was now useless—it simply had fewer weak points, and its form was streamlined and fortified. My blade limbs barely left a scratch when I struck, a frustrating testament to its superior defenses. Even when I tried to target its joints, the points of articulation in its limbs, it rotated its body at the precise moment I attacked, anticipating my move and ensuring the blow never landed cleanly.

It was just as fast as I was—but hit with significantly more force, each blow carrying the weight of its enhanced physique.

And that wasn't even the worst of it.

It possessed all of my skills, every technique I had learned, every move I had mastered.

[Compound Vision]

The instant I tried to circle it, to gain a tactical advantage by exploiting its peripheral vision, the void creature adjusted seamlessly, its head rotating with unnerving speed. It tracked me just as effectively as I could track it, its compound eyes mirroring my own, leaving no blind spots, no avenues for a surprise attack.

I tested it, subtly shifting my angle of attack, feinting a strike to the left before pivoting to the right, attempting to move outside its primary field of vision.

Nothing worked.

It always adjusted at the precise instant I would have, anticipating my every move, reacting before I could even fully commit to my attack.

I rushed in suddenly, switching to an erratic, unpredictable attack pattern, hoping to catch it off guard, to force it into a reactive rather than proactive stance. But it didn't hesitate for a moment.

Its head twitched almost imperceptibly, processing my speed, analyzing my trajectory, calculating the precise arc of my movements—and it countered instantly, swinging its blade limb not where I was, but where I was going to be, intercepting my attack before it could even land.

I barely managed to deflect the strike, the raw power of the blow still jarring my already injured wing, sending a fresh wave of pain through my body.

Even as I evaded the attack, its other limb was already in mid-motion, cocked back and ready, prepared for my inevitable reaction, anticipating my next move before I even conceived of it.

A trap.

I twisted at the last second, letting the razor-sharp edge of the blade scrape along my exoskeleton instead of piercing it, narrowly avoiding a crippling blow.

I slashed at its forearm, a quick, controlled strike designed to limit its movement, to disrupt its rhythm, to force it onto the defensive.

It angled its blade limb downward—exactly as I would have in its position—redirecting my force instead of absorbing it, using my own momentum against me.

My attack slid off harmlessly, a testament to its superior defenses, its enhanced physique, and its perfect understanding of my fighting style.

A perfect counter.

But this wasn't mere adaptation, learning from my tactics and adjusting its strategy.

This was preemption, anticipating my every move before I even made it.

It wasn't just responding after I acted—it was moving simultaneously, seemingly knowing precisely what I would do next, anticipating my every move before I even conceived of it.

Every attack I attempted was met with the most efficient, the most devastatingly effective response possible. It was as if I was fighting a future version of myself, a version that had already analyzed my every move, every weakness, every tendency, and turned them all against me.

I vanished into the shadows, activating [Camouflage], hoping to gain a momentary advantage through stealth.

For a fleeting instant, I felt a surge of hope, a sliver of advantage, the brief illusion of control.

Then it vanished too.

I froze every sense on high alert, straining to detect any sign of its presence.

Everything went eerily silent, the oppressive stillness of the void amplifying the tension, the unspoken threat.

The void creature had activated [Camouflage] at the exact same time as me, negating my attempt at surprise, and mirroring my move with chilling precision.

I maintained my low stance, blade limbs poised, waiting, listening intently for any telltale sound, any subtle shift in the air, any clue to its location.

A flicker of movement—too late.

A searing pain tore through my side, a burning agony that forced a gasp from my lips.

My body twisted involuntarily as I staggered back, my exoskeleton fracturing under the force of the unseen attack, the impact sending shards of chitin flying.

It didn't stop.

I swung blindly, desperately hoping to connect with something, anything—

Nothing.

Another attack, this time from the opposite side, targeting my already injured wing.

I gasped, barely managing to turn my body in time to avoid a fatal strike aimed at my head—but my left blade limb took the brunt of the blow instead, absorbing the impact meant for my face.

The sickening sound of cracking chitin echoed in the silence, a testament to the brutal force of the attack.

My blade limb was damaged, its effectiveness severely compromised, hanging limp at my side.

I jumped back, trying to create some distance between us, to buy myself a precious moment to think, analyze, and find a way out of this impossible situation.