CHAPTER 79: CHAPTER 79

I have a third option now.

The Seed of Infinite Choice pulsed in his chest—thump-thump—resonating with his heartbeat. The ability granted in Level Three: force reality to offer a third path when only two exist.

I can use it once per planetary rotation.

Haven’t used it yet.

But the consequences are "extreme."

Yoo made the calculation in microseconds:

Risk of using Seed: Unknown but potentially catastrophic.

Risk of not using it: 88% probability of death in next two minutes.

The choice is obvious.

He activated the Seed of Infinite Choice.

CRACK.

Reality fractured around him—not breaking, but branching. Where before there were two paths (attack or defend), suddenly a third path became visible. A route that shouldn’t exist but did because Yoo had forced it into being.

The blood pool wasn’t just liquid.

It was memory.

Every creature that had ever died on this platform, their life-essence absorbed into the Threshold, creating this pool. And memories could be accessed.

Yoo reached down—splash—plunging his hand into the blood up to the elbow. The warmth was disturbing, the texture wrong, the smell overwhelming. But he pushed past revulsion, using his enhanced perception to read the blood’s conceptual structure.

Thousands of deaths.

Thousands of warriors who failed this trial.

Their techniques, their powers, their final moments—all recorded here.

All accessible.

He pulled.

WHOOOOSH.

Knowledge flooded into him—not gradually, but all at once. Combat techniques from a hundred different martial traditions. Power manipulation methods that predated Earth’s Gi system. Conceptual frameworks for reality manipulation that he barely understood but could use.

And most importantly—

The Guardian’s weakness.

Recorded in the dying thoughts of someone who’d come closest to victory before failing. A hunter from seventy-three years ago who’d discovered the secret before the deletion-weapon removed them from existence.

The helmet can be forced open from inside.

If something gets into the Guardian through its mouth.

Something small.

Something the Guardian wouldn’t perceive as a threat.

Yoo pulled his hand from the blood—schlorp—the substance clinging to his skin like it didn’t want to release him. The knowledge burned in his mind, purchased at the cost of—

What cost?

He looked down.

His hand was older.

Not much. Maybe five years aged in five seconds. Wrinkled skin, prominent veins, age spots beginning to form. The Seed of Infinite Choice’s "extreme consequence": accelerated aging for knowledge that shouldn’t be accessible.

Five years per use.

I’m physically two years old.

That hand is now seven.

If I use this twelve more times, my entire body will be elderly.

Price noted. Will use sparingly.

"Kairos!" Yoo shouted, shaking off the disturbing sensation of asymmetric aging. "Create an opening! Make it open its mouth!"

[MASTER-COMMANDS: I-OBEY.]

The draconic being charged again—CRASH-CRASH-CRASH—claws raking across the Guardian’s chest armor. Not trying to damage. Just annoying it. Making it react.

The Guardian’s response was immediate and brutal.

SLASH-CRASH-SMASH.

Five weapons moved in perfect concert—symphony of destruction—catching Kairos across the face. Blood sprayed—splatter-splatter-splatter—luminescent droplets that sizzled where they hit the blood-pool.

But Kairos didn’t retreat.

He roared.

RRRROOOOOAAAAAAAAR.

The sound was deafening—so loud that Yoo felt his eardrums flex dangerously—carrying such primal fury that even the Guardian flinched.

And in that flinch—

Its mouth opened.

Just a fraction. Just a crack in the skull-helmet’s lower jaw.

Enough.

Yoo didn’t have time to explain. Didn’t have time to coordinate. He just moved.

His transformed body—enhanced by Catastrophic Reformation, optimized by Akasha Archive, strengthened by Kaelthas’s stolen power—covered thirty meters in four seconds. Not Platinum speed. But fast enough.

Step-splash-step-splash-LEAP.

He jumped, using the blood-pool’s strange surface tension as springboard. His trajectory carried him toward the Guardian’s face, hand outstretched, fingers glowing with concentrated Gi that barely functioned here but carried intent which did.

The Guardian’s remaining five weapons swiveled—whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh—tracking him mid-air.

Too slow.

Yoo’s hand touched the Guardian’s lower jaw—that crack in the armor—and pushed.

Not with physical strength.

With Sovereign’s Decree.

The ability to grant True Names. Which also granted the power to command using conceptual authority.

"OPEN," he spoke in Logos.

CRACK.

The Guardian’s jaw snapped open—not voluntarily, but because Yoo had invoked power that transcended its will. The Primordial energy flowing through Kaelthas’s connection overwhelmed local resistance.

Creak-CRACK-snap.

The mouth gaped wide, revealing interior that wasn’t organic. Just void. The same absolute absence that surrounded the platform.

Perfect.

Yoo activated his newest evolution: Devour.

The upgraded version of Melt, enhanced by Akasha Archive, capable of consuming defeated enemies and integrating their abilities.

Tendrils of darkness erupted from Yoo’s hand—sssssss-WHOOOOSH—pure absence given form and function. They plunged into the Guardian’s mouth, past the teeth, into that void-interior, searching for—

There.

The core consciousness. A crystalline sphere buried deep inside the helmet, protected by layers of conceptual shielding.

The tendrils wrapped around it—squeeze-squeeze-CRUSH—and began pulling.

The Guardian thrashed.

All five remaining arms struck simultaneously—CRASH-CRASH-CRASH-CRASH-CRASH—but couldn’t reach Yoo. He was too close, inside the weapon’s minimum effective range, clinging to the Guardian’s face like a parasite.

PULL.

The crystalline sphere began moving—crack-creak-SNAP—breaking through shielding that resisted with force that made Yoo’s teeth ache.

Keep pulling. Almost there. Just a little more—

The Guardian’s helmet exploded.

SHATTER.

Fragments of skull-armor burst outward—tinkle-tinkle-CRASH—some pieces large as dinner plates, others fine as powder. They rained down onto the blood-pool—splash-splash-splash—creating ripples that spread outward in perfect concentric circles.

And the crystalline sphere—the Guardian’s core—came free.

PULL-POP-catch.

Yoo caught it mid-fall, hand closing around smooth surface that pulsed with residual power. It felt warm, almost alive, vibrating at a frequency he could feel in his bones.

The Guardian’s body collapsed—CRASH—falling backward into the blood-pool with a sound like a building falling. The blood swallowed it—glorp-glorp-glorp—consuming the armor, the weapons, everything.

Within seconds: nothing remained except ripples.

[LEVEL-TEN: COMPLETE]

[GUARDIAN-DEFEATED: EXCEPTIONAL-METHOD]

[CORE-ACQUIRED: INTEGRATION-OPTIONAL]

Yoo landed—splash—boots sinking into blood up to his ankles. His entire body shook with adrenaline crash, heart hammering—thump-thump-thump-thump—at rates that would be dangerous if he weren’t already beyond normal human physiology.

Han limped over—splash-splash—blade still drawn, eyes wide. "Did you just... eat its brain?"

"Core consciousness. Not quite brain. But close." Yoo held up the crystalline sphere. "Devour lets me integrate abilities from defeated enemies. This thing adapted mid-combat and controlled six weapons simultaneously. If I consume it—"

[AKASHA-ARCHIVE: WARNING]

[CORE-INTEGRATION-CARRIES-RISKS]

[GUARDIAN-CONSCIOUSNESS: NOT-FULLY-TERMINATED]

[ABSORPTION-MAY-RESULT-IN: PERSONALITY-CONTAMINATION, COMBAT-INSTINCT-OVERRIDE, VIOLENT-TENDENCIES]

[ESTIMATED-HUMANITY-COST: 3-7%]

Yoo stared at the sphere.

7% at worst.

Would drop me from 62% to 55%.

Still above half. Still technically more human than not.

But the trend continues. Every power gain costs humanity.

Is it worth it?

He thought about the 87 trials remaining. Thought about the unknown challenges ahead. Thought about Jae-sung, still trapped somewhere in the realm where monsters originated.

I need every advantage.

"I’m doing it," he said.

"Yoo—"

"I know the cost. I’m choosing it anyway." He met Han’s eyes. "That’s what I do, remember? I choose. Even when the choice is terrible."

Han was quiet for three seconds. Then: "At least you’re aware you’re making terrible choices. That’s something."

"Small comfort." Yoo raised the sphere to his mouth—

And bit down.

CRUNCH.

The crystalline surface shattered between his teeth—crack-crack-tinkle—fragments cutting his tongue, filling his mouth with taste like copper and electricity and something else. Something that had never been alive but carried weight nonetheless.

He swallowed.

Gulp.

The sphere’s remains slid down his throat—scrape-scrape-burn—leaving trails of pain that made his eyes water. His stomach convulsed—lurch—trying to reject the foreign material.

But Devour wouldn’t allow rejection.

WHOOOOM.

The power activated, breaking down the Guardian’s core into constituent concepts, filtering them through Akasha Archive’s analysis, extracting what was compatible, discarding what wasn’t.

Yoo collapsed to his knees—splash-thump—hands pressed against the blood-soaked platform. His entire body burned from inside, like someone had poured molten metal into his veins.

AGH—

[INTEGRATION-BEGINNING]

[EXTRACTING: ADAPTIVE-COMBAT-PROTOCOLS]

[EXTRACTING: MULTI-WEAPON-PROFICIENCY]

[EXTRACTING: CONCEPTUAL-ARMOR-MANIFESTATION]

[FILTERING-OUT: GUARDIAN-CONSCIOUSNESS (TOO-DANGEROUS)]

[FILTERING-OUT: DELETION-WEAPON-PRINCIPLES (REQUIRES-PRIMORDIAL-AUTHORITY)]

[FILTERING-OUT: BLOOD-POOL-MANIPULATION (LOCATION-SPECIFIC)]

The pain intensified—BURN-BURN-BURN—until Yoo couldn’t distinguish between his own screaming and the sound of his cells restructuring.

Then—

CLICK.