Anxiety clawed at [Automata]'s core. No matter how fervently he reached out to his other souls, only a disquieting echo answered – a phantom presence that fueled his unease. Yet, the fight consumed him. The metallic serpent defied logic, shrugging off his attacks with contemptuous ease. His last-minute "Attacker" spell had barely dented its hide.
Panic spiked. With a chilling hiss, the serpent contorted, its ethereal form ballooning to monstrous proportions. Then, its gaping maw opened, a maelstrom threatening to devour the very ocean of [Automata]'s mana.
Desperation fueled ingenuity. He gathered his dwindling reserves, twisting them into spiky, shrapnel-laden torrents. These barbs of defiance hurtled into the serpent's gullet, erupting in a shower of molten metal and leaving the beast riddled with agonizing punctures.
Even then, the metallic serpent scoffed. With a guttural rumble, it summoned more of its own metallic mana, patching its wounds with chilling efficiency. [Automata] felt his own mana reserves dwindle, exhaustion gnawing at his core. Yet, amidst the despair, a spark ignited. He remembered the unwavering stance of his slumbering Guardian, their resolute defense.
Drawing strength from the Guardian's spirit, [Automata] wove his mana differently. No longer scattered barbs, his will shaped it into a shimmering construct. An ethereal scythe, its blade honed from pure desperation, materialized with a hum that resonated through the intangible plane they inhabited. With a roar that echoed through their non-physical realm, he unleashed it.
The scythe tore through the metallic serpent like a searing brand through butter. Molten sparks erupted, the snake's metallic shrieks echoing his own agony. Its ethereal form flickered, destabilized by the sheer audacity of the attack. Finally, with a deafening crack, the serpent shattered, dissolving into a million luminescent shards that rained down around them, like celestial tears upon the battlefield.
The serpent's demise did little to quiet the storm within [Automata]. His mana reserves hummed dangerously low, yet relief remained elusive. As if sensing his vulnerability, the ominous monolith thrummed with renewed vigor. The fallen shards, seemingly defying gravity, halted mid-air before convulsing. With a sickening crack, they hurtled towards the monolith, fusing back into its form.
A blinding light erupted, bathing the intangible plane in an eerie glow. The monolith pulsated, then contorted, its shape solidifying into a nightmarish visage. A towering ethereal humanoid, its body composed of shimmering metal, stood revealed. Six arms, each tipped with wickedly curved claws, sprouted from its torso. Four eyes, burning embers encased in rusting iron ore, glared down at [Automata].
The air crackled with malevolent energy as the [Iron Beast] opened its maw. A voice, like the grinding of rusty gears, echoed through the non-physical realm.
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"Dungeon core," it rasped, the words laced with contempt, "you go against his will!"
The chilling proclamation reverberated, echoing endlessly within the intangible space.
"Dungeon core, you go against his will!"
"Dungeon core, you go against his will!"
"Dungeon core, you go against his will!"
The relentless refrains sent shivers down [Automata]'s core, fueling a chilling premonition. It was time for a final gamble. He reached deep, dredging every last drop of his Automation Mana, a desperate plea echoing through the intangible plane. He emptied his reserves, and a surge of power answered, flooding the battlefield like a tidal wave.
This wasn't the enemy's metallic mana, shimmering and cold. This was raw, untamed energy, coursing through the air with the bite of a thousand steel needles. It flooded from the cracks in the barrier, swirling around the Iron Beast like a living storm. Countless tiny blades, sharp as whispers and fueled by [Automata]'s desperation, danced around the colossal foe. They chipped away, leaving shimmering gashes across its metallic form, each sliver a testament to his defiance.
But the Iron Beast wouldn't fall silently. It roared, a sound that tore through the non-physical plane, unleashing a shockwave laced with otherworldly energy. The force pushed back the mana surge, carving a barren wasteland around them and erecting a dome of impenetrable darkness.
However, [Automata] was not finished. With a whisper of thought, he commanded the remaining mana. It contorted, solidifying into a colossal metallic serpent. Its scales, formed from pure will, glinted with defiance. It coiled around the dome, constricting with unimaginable conceptual force. Each twist sent tremors through the barrier, spiderweb cracks snaking across its surface.
Despair threatened to engulf [Automata]. The impossible was unfolding before him. The cracks on the dome, his one glimmer of hope, began to mend, knitting shut at an alarming rate. Soon, the pace outmatched his assault, the darkness solidifying faster than his serpent could chip away. As if mocking his struggle, colossal spikes, blacker than the void itself, erupted from the dome, each the size of mountains. They lashed out, shredding the metallic serpent with casual ease, scattering its metallic scales like dust.
The dome wasn't content with mere defense. It swelled outwards, pushing against [Automata]'s mana with its sheer mass. Each inch it gained brought darkness closer, threatening to extinguish the flickering defiance within him. But [Automata] refused to yield. He adapted, his remaining mana responding to his will. Ten colossal hands, forged from raw determination and fueled by his near-limitless processing power, materialized around the dome. They dug their immaterial fingers into the encroaching darkness, pushing back with the force of a collapsing star.
A titanic struggle ensued. The dome pressed down with the weight of oblivion, while [Automata]'s hands strained against its relentless advance. The battlefield resonated with the clash of wills, the very fabric of the intangible plane groaning under the stress. Every fiber of [Automata]'s being screamed in protest, his mana reserves draining at an alarming rate. It was a battle against time, against despair, against the very concept of defeat.
With a deafening snap, a single hand materialized through the dome, the others following in rapid succession. Cracks danced across the oppressive darkness, then spiderwebbed outwards until the entire dome imploded in a shower of shimmering shards. Revealed within stood the Iron Beast, but its once imposing form was now frail and wispy, its metallic sheen dulled and flickering. Automata barely had time to savor the sight before the creature dissolved in a spray of liquid ichor that shimmered eerily in the fading light.
The very reality around them began to dissolve, the familiar landscape shifting and blurring like a watercolor painting washed away by rain. Panic flared in Automata's dwindling consciousness, but in the midst of the chaos, a sudden surge of energy erupted in his mind. His other two souls, silent for so long, were back!