The crater no longer felt like part of the world.

  Wind refused to cross its center, bending strangely around the vast depression as if even air resisted touching whatever lay beneath. Loose stones vibrated continuously, dancing across unstable ground, while faint pulses of void energy flickered along fractured ridges circling the impact zone. It felt less like standing near a geological disaster and more like standing beside a wound in reality itself.

  Vale crouched near one of the fractures, fingers brushing broken earth. Cold seeped through his glove instantly, numbing skin beneath. Not natural cold. Absence. A hole where warmth and life simply ceased to exist.

  Behind him, Adrian knelt beside an opened supply crate, checking the limited explosives they’d salvaged from abandoned caravans. Kara kept watch uphill, blades drawn though there was nothing visible to fight—only the constant feeling that something massive listened from below.

  “So,” Adrian muttered, “remind me again how blowing up the ground helps against a cosmic horror?”

  Vale stood slowly. “These cracks are pressure leaks. Weak points where it’s pushing through.”

  “And destroying them?”

  “Forces pressure to spread elsewhere. Slows emergence.”

  Adrian snorted. “So we’re basically taping over cracks in reality.”

  “Yes.”

  “…Fantastic.”

  Another tremor rolled through the crater. Larger this time.

  All three staggered slightly as a deep, grinding noise echoed beneath the earth. Not loud. Just vast. Like continental plates shifting somewhere far below.

  Kara called down from above. “It’s moving again!”

  Vale already knew.

  The Void Titan pushed harder now, testing boundaries. Each surge left fractures glowing faintly before fading again.

  And there were too many.

  Dozens of cracks spiderwebbed around the crater’s rim, each potentially becoming another breach point.

  They couldn’t seal them all.

  Which meant choosing carefully.

  Vale moved along the rim, scanning terrain rapidly. Authority fragment stirred faintly, reacting to concentrated void leakage. His instincts guided him toward the largest fracture cluster near the eastern ridge.

  “That one,” he called.

  Adrian hauled explosives up beside him. “Tell me this works.”

  Vale answered honestly. “It works long enough.”

  Kara slid down the slope, boots skidding. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning we buy time.”

  She sighed. “You really hate permanent solutions.”

  “Permanent solutions don’t exist anymore.”

  Adrian planted the charges quickly, fingers moving with military precision Vale recognized instantly. Future soldier, then. Or someone from Earth’s later resistance movements.

  Another piece of the puzzle.

  He filed it away.

  “Thirty seconds,” Adrian announced, backing away.

  They retreated uphill as the detonator clicked.

  The explosion ripped through fractured stone, collapsing weakened ridges inward. Dust and debris erupted skyward as earth cascaded into the crater below, sealing one of the major pressure points.

  For several seconds, nothing happened.

  Then the tremors slowed.

  Slightly.

  Kara exhaled in relief. “That worked.”

  Vale shook his head. “Temporarily.”

  Because new fractures already glowed faintly elsewhere.

  The Titan adapted.

  It pushed where resistance weakened.

  Adrian wiped dirt from his face. “How many of these do we need to destroy?”

  Vale stared across the crater.

  “Enough to keep it asleep.”

  “Helpful.”

  Before conversation continued, system alerts flared again.

  WORLD EVENT ESCALATION

  VOID ACTIVITY INCREASING GLOBALLY

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  MULTIPLE ANCHOR POINTS DETECTED

  Vale’s stomach dropped.

  Adrian cursed. “Globally?”

  Kara blinked. “Meaning this isn’t the only one?”

  Vale nodded grimly. “This is just the first we found.”

  Somewhere, other cracks formed. Other cities risked similar catastrophes without knowing.

  And they couldn’t be everywhere.

  A new tremor struck.

  Stronger.

  Ground beneath them bulged violently before settling again. A massive silhouette briefly surfaced beneath crater soil—suggestion of something impossibly large turning beneath layers of reality.

  Kara whispered, “How big is that thing?”

  Vale answered quietly.

  “Bigger than cities.”

  Adrian stared at the crater. “We’re going to need bigger explosives.”

  Vale didn’t disagree.

  But even that wouldn’t solve the real problem.

  Because then something changed.

  The void fractures stopped pulsing randomly.

  They synchronized.

  Lightless energy rippled outward in rhythmic waves.

  Like a heartbeat.

  Vale’s blood ran cold.

  “It’s learning,” he whispered.

  Adrian frowned. “What is?”

  “The Titan.”

  Because fractures now opened strategically, not randomly. Smaller cracks appeared farther from sealed zones, spreading outward.

  Searching.

  Adapting.

  Kara’s voice trembled slightly. “You’re telling me that thing is thinking?”

  Vale nodded.

  Void entities weren’t mindless beasts.

  They were ancient.

  And intelligent in ways humanity barely understood.

  Another fracture erupted behind them, splitting hillside rock open. Dark mist leaked upward as gravity warped slightly around the crack.

  They turned.

  Something climbed out.

  Not fully formed.

  A scouting limb.

  Long, segmented, armored in stone-like flesh etched with glowing void lines. It dragged itself partially free before collapsing, unable to stabilize outside breach zones.

  But the implication chilled Vale.

  The Titan tested entry points.

  Sending pieces through.

  Kara raised her blades reflexively. “Can we kill that?”

  Vale hesitated.

  “Probably.”

  Adrian sighed. “That confidence is inspiring.”

  The appendage twitched again, void energy spilling outward. Ground around it decayed rapidly, grass withering instantly.

  Vale moved forward cautiously, authority fragment stirring once more.

  Because if pieces could enter early…

  Then next time—

  Something larger might follow.

  He tightened his grip on his knife.

  “Kill it before it learns more.”

  Behind them, the crater pulsed again.

  And somewhere deep below—

  Something smiled.

  The appendage moved again.

  Not blindly.

  Not randomly.

  It probed the air ahead of it, segmented plates shifting as void energy leaked from fractures along its length. Wherever that energy touched ground, grass blackened and stone softened like melting wax before dissolving entirely. The land itself recoiled from contact.

  Vale slowed his approach, instincts warning him that this wasn’t merely a stray limb forcing its way into reality.

  It was testing.

  Learning.

  Behind him, Adrian muttered, “Please tell me that thing can’t see.”

  Vale didn’t answer immediately.

  Because the limb shifted.

  And turned toward them.

  Kara cursed. “It sees.”

  The appendage lunged.

  Vale dove aside as the massive limb smashed into earth where he’d stood, impact sending shockwaves across the ridge. Adrian opened fire instantly, rifle thunder echoing across the crater as high-caliber rounds tore into exposed void fractures.

  Unlike Shadeborn, this thing reacted physically.

  Stone-like armor shattered where bullets struck.

  But it didn’t bleed.

  Instead, darkness spilled from wounds, quickly reforming around damaged sections.

  “Physical damage works,” Adrian shouted. “Just not enough!”

  Vale rose, authority already stirring. His instincts aligned quickly.

  The limb existed partly in reality.

  Which meant conventional damage slowed it.

  Authority damage finished it.

  But using that power again so soon—

  Pain already simmered beneath his skin.

  He forced it down.

  No choice.

  The appendage swung again, faster this time. Kara barely dodged as a secondary segment split open, revealing hooked protrusions designed to anchor into terrain.

  Not just testing.

  Establishing footholds.

  Vale sprinted forward, sliding beneath a sweeping strike. His blade flashed upward, authority energy crawling along metal as he drove it into a glowing fracture point.

  Reality rippled violently.

  The limb convulsed.

  A silent scream tore across perception, not heard but felt—like pressure crushing thoughts. Kara staggered backward, clutching her head. Adrian grimaced as blood trickled faintly from his nose.

  The appendage recoiled violently, thrashing across the hillside as void fractures ruptured.

  Vale twisted his blade, pouring everything he could into the strike.

  The limb disintegrated.

  Not slowly.

  Instantly.

  Collapsing into black vapor that evaporated in seconds.

  Silence followed.

  Vale staggered back, chest heaving.

  Pain exploded behind his eyes.

  Authority backlash.

  Too much too soon.

  He dropped to one knee.

  Kara rushed over. “Vale!”

  “I’m fine,” he muttered hoarsely.

  He wasn’t.

  System messages flickered weakly.

  VOID PROBE DESTROYED

  ENTITY ANALYSIS UPDATED

  Adrian wiped blood from his nose. “That thing… was scouting.”

  Vale nodded slowly.

  “And next time, it sends something bigger.”

  The crater pulsed again behind them.

  Stronger.

  In response.

  As if the Titan noticed loss of contact.

  Ground quaked violently, knocking them all flat as massive sections of the crater wall collapsed inward. Dust clouds swallowed the valley floor.

  Then came the sound.

  A deep, resonant hum.

  Felt more than heard.

  Like something immense shifting its weight closer to waking.

  Vale’s breath slowed.

  Too fast.

  This escalation was happening too fast.

  System warnings erupted again.

  VOID TITAN AWARENESS INCREASING

  REALITY BREACH PROBABILITY RISING

  Kara whispered, “We didn’t make it mad, did we?”

  Vale pushed himself upright slowly.

  “No.”

  His voice hardened.

  “We made it interested.”

  Which was worse.

  Adrian stared at the crater, calculating. “How long until something worse comes through?”

  Vale hesitated.

  Then answered honestly.

  “Days.”

  Silence fell.

  Kara shook her head slowly. “Cities don’t have days.”

  “No,” Vale agreed. “They don’t.”

  Another fracture opened across the valley, smaller but rapidly expanding.

  The Titan pushed harder now.

  Testing multiple exits simultaneously.

  Vale’s mind raced.

  They could keep sealing cracks.

  But the Titan learned with every attempt.

  Adapted.

  Soon it would find a stable path.

  Meaning sealing breaches wasn’t enough.

  They needed something stronger.

  Something capable of reinforcing reality itself.

  A barrier.

  Or—

  Vale’s eyes widened slightly.

  The pantheon.

  Gods once held reality together.

  Their domains anchored existence.

  And he’d killed them.

  But fragments remained.

  Ruins.

  Artifacts.

  Shrines.

  Old divine power scattered across the world.

  Authority sources.

  He looked at Adrian and Kara.

  “We’ve been solving the wrong problem.”

  Adrian frowned. “Meaning?”

  Vale turned away from the crater.

  “Instead of patching cracks…”

  His voice hardened.

  “…we rebuild the wall.”

  Kara blinked. “Rebuild… reality?”

  “Something like that.”

  Adrian exhaled slowly. “You always have insane plans?”

  Vale almost smiled.

  “They keep working.”

  Behind them, the crater pulsed again.

  The Titan stirred in sleep.

  Learning.

  Waiting.

  But now—

  Vale had a direction.

  And for the first time since regression—

  A way to fight back properly.

  He started walking.

  Kara and Adrian followed without question.

  Because behind them—

  The ground bulged once more.

  And this time—

  Something enormous almost broke through.

  The cage was cracking.

  And the prisoner was waking.