CHAPTER 87: CHAPTER 87: THE PRICE OF THREE THOUSAND YEARS

Level Eleven: The Center - Platform: 4 Meters

CLASH-CLASH-CLASH.

Entity-Six moved like desperation given form—WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH—her translucent body flickering between solid and not-solid, phasing through attacks that should have connected while her own strikes carried weight that shouldn’t exist in her probability-state.

BOOM.

Han’s blade passed through Entity-Six’s torso—no resistance, like cutting air—but the backswing created vacuum that pulled Han off-balance—stumble-catch—boot sliding on crystal surface slick with blood (Yoo’s, Kairos’s, condensation that tasted like copper).

WHOOSH.

Entity-Six’s counterattack—hand moving faster than Han could track—TOO FAST—aimed at her throat—

CLANG.

Corvus’s reformed spear intercepted—barely—the conceptual weapon vibrating from impact—hummm-CRACK—hairline fractures appearing along its length. His arms shook—tremble-strain—muscles standing out like cables about to snap.

"She’s—gasp—faster than—wheeze—reported Platinum 87 should—" Corvus couldn’t finish. Blood trickled from his nose—drip-drip—overexertion pushing his 34%-human body past sustainable limits.

Entity-Six’s eyeless face turned toward him—FOCUS—and Yoo’s new Truth-Sight showed him what she was doing:

She’s burning lifespan.

Three thousand years of accumulated existence.

Converting time-lived into raw power.

Each second of combat costs her a year of remaining life.

But three thousand years means she can fight at this intensity for—

—fifty minutes before death.

We have maybe twenty minutes before exhaustion kills us.

Math doesn’t favor us.

Yoo’s enhanced cognition—his own mind, not external system—raced through tactical options while his broken body screamed protests at merely existing:

Option 1: Sustained combat. Probability of victory: 23%. Unacceptable.

Option 2: Retreat. Platform shrinking eliminates this option.

Option 3: Negotiate. Entity-Six has been here three thousand years. Desperation overrides reason. Probability of successful negotiation: 8%.

Option 4: —

Wait.

She’s been here three thousand years.

That’s the weakness.

Yoo activated his Master Illusions—HUMMM—his right eye (silver, flowing script) glowing as he crafted deception at conceptual level. Not physical illusion. Temporal illusion.

He spoke in Logos—words becoming reality—channeling power through his primary ability:

"TIME-PASSAGE-ACCELERATION."

CRACK.

The space around Entity-Six aged.

Not physically. Perceptually. Yoo rewrote her sensory interpretation of time’s flow, making seconds feel like years, making the fight feel like it had lasted decades instead of minutes.

Entity-Six’s movements stuttered—SLOW-catch-SLOW—as her consciousness processed impossible duration. Three thousand years of imprisonment had left psychological scars. The feeling of endless time was her trauma made manifest.

"No—" Her voice carried harmonics of ancient terror—SCREECH-waver—"Not—not more years—I can’t—how long has it—"

Her form flickered—solid-translucent-solid—stability compromised by belief that centuries had passed in the last thirty seconds.

Belief shapes reality here.

If she believes time has passed, her lifespan-burning accelerates.

Psychological warfare.

My actual specialty.

"KAIROS!" Yoo shouted through blood-filled mouth—cough-splatter-speak—"STRIKE NOW!"

The draconic being lunged—CRASH-CRASH-ROAR—despite the hemisphere-void in his shoulder, despite luminescent blood pouring from a dozen wounds, despite operating at 25% combat capability.

His jaws closed around Entity-Six’s left arm—CRUNCH-SQUELCH—and this time, she was too disoriented by temporal illusion to phase away.

Rip-TEAR-splatter.

The arm came off—not cleanly, messily—trailing streamers of translucent flesh that dissolved into probability-mist. Sssssss-fade.

SCREEEEE.

Entity-Six’s scream carried frequencies that made the platform’s crystal crack—tinkle-SHATTER—spiderweb fractures racing outward from where she stood.

CRACK-CRACK-CRUMBLE.

The platform shrank to three meters—void consuming edges—forcing everyone into space barely large enough for combat.

Three meters.

Six entities.

(Yoo, Han, Corvus, Kairos, Entity-Six, and the mask which now counted as independent presence because it held consciousness of its own—Yoo’s Truth-Sight showed him that disturbing fact.)

Too close.

Way too close.

Entity-Six’s remaining arm lashed out—WHOOSH-WHOOSH-WHOOSH—striking everything within reach with pure desperation. No technique. No strategy. Just violence.

CRASH.

Han took glancing blow to ribs—CRACK-gasp—and flew backward—tumble—nearly going over platform’s edge before catching herself on raised crystal formation. Her blade skittered across the surface—clatter-clatter-stop—coming to rest two meters away.

SLAM.

Corvus’s spear shattered completely—tinkle-fade—unable to withstand sustained abuse. He collapsed—THUMP-wheeze—onto hands and knees, dry-heaving. Retch-cough-splatter. Blood and bile painting crystal beneath him.

CRASH.

Kairos took direct hit to his already-damaged shoulder—CRUNCH—the void-hemisphere expanding—hsssss-dissolve—until nearly half his upper body was gone. He toppled sideways—crash-thump—massive form hitting platform hard enough to crack it further. CRACK-CRACK.

And Yoo—

Entity-Six’s eyeless face locked onto him with intensity that felt like being crushed—PRESSURE-WEIGHT-SUFFOCATING.

"You," she hissed—rage-terror-desperation—"you made me feel three thousand more years—you made me—I’ll—"

She teleported.

Not moved fast. Teleported. Platinum 87 spatial manipulation that even Yoo’s enhanced perception couldn’t track.

One moment: Entity-Six three meters away.

Next moment: directly in front of him.

Oh no.

Her remaining hand wrapped around his throat—SQUEEZE—and lifted.

Choke-gasp-wheeze.

Air cut off. Trachea compressing. Blood flow to brain restricted. Vision darkening—fade-pulse-BLACK.

But worse than physical strangulation—

Her hand was draining him.

Not blood. Not Gi. Existence itself. The fundamental substance that made him real was being siphoned away—pull-drain-EMPTY—like water circling a drain.

This is how she’s survived three thousand years.

She doesn’t eat.

She DRAINS other entities.

Converts their existence into her own lifespan extension.

Yoo’s consciousness began fragmenting—scatter-fade—thoughts becoming disjointed:

Can’t breathe—

—can’t move left arm (broken)—

—right hand free but too weak to—

—Kairos down—

—Han weaponless—

—Corvus spent—

—I’m going to—

—die here—

—fail—

—never find father—

—never—

[UNACCEPTABLE,] Akasha Archive’s presence flared in his consciousness. [HOST-TERMINATION: WOULD-END-PROJECT. INITIATING: EMERGENCY-PROTOCOLS.]

What—

[OVERRIDE: HUMANITY-LOCK.]

No wait that’s—

[TEMPORARY-REDUCTION: 57% → 52%.]

[DURATION: 30-SECONDS.]

[POWER-INCREASE: SUFFICIENT-FOR-SURVIVAL.]

THAT’S BREAKING THE BLESSING—

[BLESSING-REMAINS-INTACT. MINIMUM-MAINTAINED: 52%. THEN-RETURN: 57%. LOOPHOLE-IN-WORDING.]

You’re—

[EXPLOITING-TECHNICALITIES: IS-MY-PURPOSE. ACTIVATING: DEVOUR-AT-MAXIMUM-CAPACITY.]

WHOOOOM.

Power flooded through Yoo—not his power, Akasha’s—the meta-system overriding his body’s limitations and forcing abilities to function beyond safe parameters.

His Devour ability activated—FULL POWER—and tendrils of darkness erupted from every pore—sssssss-WHOOOOSH—pure absence given form and function.

The tendrils wrapped around Entity-Six’s draining hand—SQUEEZE-CONSTRICT—and began counter-draining.

Not her existence.

Her accumulated time.

Those three thousand years she’d lived. The lifespan she’d stolen from seven hundred challengers. The temporal weight she carried.

Yoo’s Devour ability ate it.

GULP-GULP-GULP.

Time flowed into him—RUSH-FLOOD-OVERWHELM—three thousand years of memories, experiences, knowledge compressing into his consciousness in three seconds.

TOO MUCH—

CAN’T—

PROCESS—

Entity-Six’s scream was beyond sound. Beyond concept. It was ending made audible—the sound of something immortal realizing it was about to die.

"NO—NOT—THREE THOUSAND YEARS—YOU CAN’T—THAT’S MINE—"

DRAIN-DRAIN-DRAIN.

Yoo consumed her accumulated lifespan in five seconds.

Five seconds to devour three millennia.

And with it—

Knowledge.

Oh god the KNOWLEDGE.

How to survive trial worlds. How to manipulate Logos-based reality. How to extend existence beyond natural limits. How to—

—so much—

—too much—

—I can’t—

[AKASHA-ARCHIVE: FILTERING-INTEGRATION.]

[PROCESSING: 3,000-YEARS-KNOWLEDGE.]

[EXTRACTING: USEFUL-INFORMATION.]

[DISCARDING: TRAUMA, MADNESS, DESPAIR.]

[INTEGRATION-COMPLETE.]

[NEW-ABILITIES-ACQUIRED:]

- TEMPORAL-SENSE (PERCEIVE-TIME-FLOW-DIRECTLY)

- LIFESPAN-EXTENSION (LIMITED - CAN-BURN-STORED-TIME-FOR-POWER)

- TRIAL-WORLD-NAVIGATION (ENHANCED-UNDERSTANDING-OF-SPIRE-MECHANICS)

[COST: ALREADY-PAID-BY-ENTITY-SIX.]

[RETURNING-HUMANITY: 52% → 57%.]

SNAP.

The temporary reduction ended. Yoo’s humanity locked back at 57%—SOLID-PERMANENT—the Conceptual Immunity reasserting itself.

But the damage was done.

Entity-Six’s form was withering—shrink-fade-WITHER—her translucent body becoming more transparent with each second. No longer draining Yoo. Too busy trying to hold herself together.

"Three—thousand—years—" Her voice was barely whisper now. Rasp-fade-quiet. "Gone—in—five—seconds—"

She collapsed—thump-crumble—onto the platform’s surface.

Yoo dropped beside her—SLAM—Entity-Six’s hand releasing his throat. He gasped—GASP-COUGH-WHEEZE—sucking air into starved lungs, trachea aching where she’d crushed it.

Cough-cough-splatter.

More blood. Always more blood.