CHAPTER 53: ENDLESS TORTURE

[: 3rd POV :]

The building was massive, its walls thick with reinforced metal and dark magic.

With his Eyes of Calamity, Daniel saw through everything—traps, enchantments, hidden turrets, and layered illusions.

What was meant to be a maze of death and confusion was laid bare before his gaze, useless against someone like him.

He walked forward, ignoring the danger as if it didn’t exist.

His steps were calm, yet carried a silent promise of destruction.

A large metallic door blocked his path, covered in runes and wards meant to stop even the strongest intruders.

But Daniel didn’t slow down.

"Void Matter," he muttered softly.

His body shimmered faintly as the passive skill of his Boundless Void Physique activated.

Without a sound, he phased straight through the door like it wasn’t even there.

On the other side, a cold, dim hallway stretched forward—part prison, part lab.

He could already sense the presence of the enslaved, the wounded, and the damned.

Daniel’s eyes narrowed.

As soon as Daniel stepped inside, a wave of rot and despair clung to his senses like a shroud.

He immediately frowned, his violet eyes narrowing with disgust.

The air inside wasn’t just foul—it was alive with agony.

The scent was thick and sickly.

There was the unmistakable stench of dried blood soaked into rusted metal, but layered beneath it was the rancid odor of burnt flesh, festering wounds, and spilled alchemical fluids that had been left to stagnate.

It was the kind of smell that stuck to your skin and your soul, that told stories of suffering without a single word.

His boots pressed against the grimy floor, each step meeting cold, damp metal that squelched slightly with some unidentifiable muck.

The walls were dull steel—stained with old handprints, claw marks, and streaks of something black.

And there was a silence behind the silence—like a weight pressing down on everything.

The only thing that moved was the air itself, heavy and still, filled with a constant low hum of machinery and distant dripping water.

Then, ashrill alarm blared, slicing through the silence like a blade.

[INTRUDER. INTRUDER. INTRUDER DETECTED]

The ceiling lights instantly dimmed, replaced by pulsating red emergency strobes that bathed the corridor in violent flashes.

Shadows danced across the hallway as warning echoed through every passage.

Doors slammed shut.

Metal shutters clanked into place.

The whole building came alive in a frenzy of response.

Daniel’s expression never changed.

If anything, it grew colder.

Immediately, the sound of synchronized boots echoed through the metallic hallways.

From both sides of the corridor, dozens of guards and wardens emerged—clad in reinforced armor laced with mana tech and obsidian plating.

Their helmets bore glowing visors, scanning and locking onto Daniel as if he were some rogue data point, an anomaly to be eliminated.

Some carried high-powered mana rifles, others had swords crackling with elemental energy sheathed at their hips.

The emblem stitched on their shoulders bore the sigil of an elite black-market syndicate—a serpent devouring chains.

One of the wardens stepped forward, voice sharp and laced with urgency.

"Halt! Identify yourself immediately! How did you bypass the inner perimeter?!"

"This facility is protected by an Epic-ranked Barrier Code! It’s impossible to breach from the outside!"

Another chimed in, voice growing tense.

"You’re not listed in any surveillance feed—who the hell are you?!"

Daniel didn’t speak. He simply looked at them.

His eyes—deep violet, laced with aura that glowed like silent stars—met theirs with no emotion.

No malice, no fear... only a silent and immense fury that chilled the room more than the alarm ever could.

His aura whispered of annihilation, and the guards could feel it... instinctively.

Their grips on their weapons tightened.

And then, Daniel finally parted his lips.

"I don’t need to answer to dead men."

The corridor dimmed.

The very light seemed to bend away from his figure.

Space distorted subtly around him like the edges of reality recoiled from his presence.

He activated one os his eye of Calamity abilities.

[: Eyes of Calamity: Omniscient Destruction :]

The moment Daniel uttered the command in his mind, his pupils shifted—spinning like galaxies spiraling inward into a singularity.

A ring of runes ignited within his irises, ancient and absolute, and the world seemed to still.

Reality bent—not outwardly, but within the minds of his enemies.

An ominous aura bled out from his body like an ink spill over existence itself, casting the corridor into a suffocating silence.

The space around him darkened, and a thick mist—black and laced with shimmering red—spilled across the floor like a tide of corruption.

The guards barely had time to raise their weapons before the mist touched them.

Then came the shift.

They froze in place.

Their eyes widened, pupils dilated.

Their consciousness was no longer in the world.

No scream left their mouths, no sound escaped.

To the world outside, only a second passed.

But within their minds...

They fell into a separate reality—crafted by Daniel’s will.

A world where time meant nothing, and pain never ended.

Each of them was forced to experience millions of years of death, suffering, and hopeless agony.

And it wasn’t from some foreign monster or outside tormentor, it was themselves.

They were ripped apart by versions of their own hands, replicas made from the sins they committed against the innocent.

For every slave they had chained, the illusion chained them twice over.

For every child they beat, the same agony was returned a thousandfold.

Some were buried alive by the screams of those they had broken.

Some drowned in oceans made of the tears of the children they had starved.

Others were skinned slowly, with every inch of flesh peeled by their own spectral hands—laughing as they once did.

One man was devoured by dragonlings that bore the same eyes as the victims he once sold.

Their senses were real.

The pain was real.

The despair, the fear, the endless cycle—all real.

They tried to scream.

They tried to kill themselves.

But even death was denied—only to begin again.

When Daniel snapped his fingers, the reality shattered.

One second had passed.

But the minds of the wardens had aged a billion lifetimes.

Their bodies remained intact, standing upright—but their eyes... vacant.

Their souls had imploded.

One by one, they collapsed.

No blood.

No injuries.

Just a quiet, broken end.

Their brains, unable to withstand the cosmic weight of infinite torture, had committed suicide.

Lifeless. Hollow. Unredeemable.

Daniel stood in the silence of it all, his eyes dimming back to violet.

As the final body dropped to the cold metallic floor with a dull thud, the thick mist of destruction slowly began to recede, curling back into Daniel’s shadow like a loyal beast.

Silence reigned—thick, oppressive, and absolute.

Daniel stood amidst the scattered corpses—though "corpses" was generous.

Their bodies were intact, but their minds had long fled.

Their glassy eyes stared into nothingness, mouths frozen in silent screams, postures twisted as though they were still trying to claw their way out of the illusion he had sentenced them to.

He looked down at them—not with pity, but with disgust.

A slow, cruel smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"A fitting end for their kind," he muttered coldly, his voice devoid of warmth or remorse.

Without breaking stride, he stepped forward.

One of the fallen lay in his path, slumped against the wall, eyes still twitching faintly, as if some lingering scrap of life refused to die.

Daniel’s boot came down with a sharp crack—crushing the man’s skull like rotted fruit.

Bone split, blood spurted, and brain matter splattered against the floor.

There was no hesitation.

No pause.

No mercy.

There was no need to feel pity for these humans as they had committed crime far to be forgiven.

Daniel didn’t care whether he was wrong or right to judge, but one’s thing for sure, these people shouldn’t exist.

They weren’t meant to be born and it would be him to erase them.

Perhaps, he was destruction itself for a reason.

It was maybe never meant to destroy but rather to erase stains that shouldn’t exist.

He continued walking—his steps deliberate, each one falling over another corpse.

A soft crunch followed each movement as he stomped through them without a glance back.

Heads caved.

Jaws broke.

The only sound was the wet squelch of shattered skulls underfoot and the quiet echo of his boots in the vast, cursed hallway.

These men, who once laughed while torturing others...

Who once chained children and called them property...

Who thought themselves untouchable...

Now lay broken and forgotten—beneath his heel.

Daniel’s eyes were sharp and burning with quiet rage, but his expression was cold.

Death was not enough for them.

Even Daniel felt that giving them millions years of torture was mercy, but he didn’t want to waste any more time.

There were children and others who are trapped inside this building and who knows what kind of situation are they in.

Daniel could only hope that by the time he had kill every single being that had tortured them, they would still be alive.

"Hold on, I’m coming" He said.