The fire spirit was still. Too still. His vibrant flames had dimmed to nothing. His form, once radiating a fierce, untamed energy, now lay dull and lifeless. No burns, no wounds—just… empty.

The Nyx Puppet had done this.

Jalen’s fingers curled into a fist. I let this happen.

His mind screamed at him to move, to do something, but his body was still recovering from the sheer shock of what it had just endured. The vision had stolen more than his focus—it had carved away at his very sense of control.

And the Puppet?

It was standing there. Watching. Waiting.

That smile never faded. It was still stretched across its face, as if nothing had changed—yet everything had. The erratic, jerky movements were gone. The unnatural twitching had ceased. It no longer moved like a broken marionette.

Now, it stood tall. Deliberate. Composed. In control. Jalen realized something in that moment.The Nyx Puppet had been playing with him before.

Toying with him. Now, it was hunting him.

A shiver ran down his spine. His mind raced through his options—what was left? The system had already shown its hand, trying to bargain with him, trying to trick him into giving up Jorm. The visions had already proven that every single way he fought back ended in his death.

No, not just death—inevitability.

There was no “fight” here. No path to victory. The system had been desperate for him to back down because it already knew the outcome.

That meant there was only one choice left.

Survive.

Not win. Not defeat. Just—escape.

The Nyx Puppet took a step forward.

Jalen’s heart slammed against his ribs.

That voice—the one that had whispered into his mind right before the visions ended—still echoed in his head.

“Still struggling?”

There had been something in those words. Not mockery. Not cruelty.

Curiosity.

Jalen swallowed, forcing his breath to steady. The system wasn’t the only thing watching him. That voice—that entity—whoever they were, they had been observing. They had stepped in, even if only for a moment.

Which meant…

Jalen’s grip tightened on his cards.

I still have a chance.

He wasn’t going to play into the system’s hands. He wasn’t going to let the Puppet corner him into whatever twisted fate it had prepared.

His vision shattered the scene shifting slightly, the vision getting a little less dark. The earth spirit was still sliced cleanly down the middle, but Ember was on top of Jorm’s forehead. “Oh thank god Ember you’re alive but looking at the earth spirit which started disintegrating into blue particles.” THe biggest change however was the giant black foot puppet foot inches away from his head.

Jalen’s breath caught in his throat. His body screamed at him to move, but the sheer wrongness of the sight before him had frozen him in place.

The Nyx Puppet’s foot hovered just above his head, massive and imposing, a stark contrast to its usual fluid, unnatural grace. He could see the fine details of its construction—thin, wiry threads connected to joints that shouldn’t exist, shadowy veins running through its frame like ink bleeding through paper.

It hadn’t stomped down.

It could have, but it hadn’t.

Jalen didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified.

Ember’s presence was proof that something had changed. The vision had shattered, or at least fractured enough to alter the flow of events. But that didn’t mean he was safe.

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Not yet.

The Earth Spirit’s form was dissolving into blue particles, vanishing as if it had never existed. A bitter taste filled Jalen’s mouth. Even if it had only been a summon, a contracted spirit—it had still been fighting for him. And now it was gone.

The Nyx Puppet had done this.

Jalen’s pulse pounded in his ears.

Not just a fight. A test. A game. A punishment.

Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t just a mindless construct. It had chosen to let him see those visions. It had chosen to let him understand just how hopeless this fight was supposed to be.

And yet, here he was.

Alive.

The puppet’s foot twitched.

Jalen’s instincts screamed.

He rolled, throwing himself to the side just as the puppet’s foot came crashing down. The sheer force split the ground beneath it, sending fractures spiderwebbing outward, the shockwave almost throwing him off balance. Dust and debris filled the air, but Jalen didn’t stop moving. He couldn’t afford to.

He barely had time to glance at Ember, who—despite his lack of flames—was gripping Jorm’s head, his small form uncharacteristically still.

Jorm, meanwhile, wasn’t attacking.

That was wrong.

Jorm was a summon. A predator. It should have been reacting, lashing out, doing something. Instead, it loomed in place, coils shifting ever so slightly, as if it were waiting for something.

Jalen’s stomach twisted.

Everything about this was wrong. The visions. The puppet. The system’s frantic attempts to make him surrender Jorm. And now, his summon—his strongest weapon—was… holding back?

Jalen gritted his teeth. No time to think. He had to act.The Nyx Puppet straightened its posture again, its head slowly tilting back toward him. That smile never wavered, but something in its stance had changed.It wasn’t just hunting him anymore.It was studying him.

That realization sent a cold wave of dread through Jalen’s spine.

“Jorm,” he rasped, voice hoarse from the strain of everything. “Why aren’t you attacking?”

The great serpent’s head turned slightly, many eyes turning towards Jalen.

“ One, two, three, four, five, six pairs of eyes 12 eyes in total. That’s 10 too many; this is another illusion. My train of thought was interrupted by my head being detached from my body once again. It was surprisingly painless as a new vision took form. One where I fell from the top of the ceiling directly in front of the puppet. This time all the summons where gone I didn’t even reach the floor as the vision shattered.

Jalen gasped, a sharp intake of breath as his mind was yanked back into reality. The weight of the vision lingered, a phantom sensation of his own beheading still tingling at his neck. His pulse hammered wildly, his body drenched in col d sweat.

This wasn’t just an attack.

It was a dismantling.

Piece by piece, the Nyx Puppet wasn’t just fighting him—it was breaking him down, unraveling his sense of what was real and what wasn’t. Each vision, each glimpse into inevitable failure, was eroding his will.

This wasn’t just an opponent.

It was a death sentence waiting to be signed.

Jalen clenched his teeth, his breathing ragged. He needed to focus, to ground himself. The Puppet was warping reality around him, but there had to be a way through this. He forced his eyes back onto Jorm.

Two eyes. Two. Not twelve. The illusion was broken.

Jorm was real. Ember was real. This was real.

Jalen’s fingers flexed, gripping his cards tighter. He couldn’t trust what he was seeing, but his summons—they weren’t reacting the way they should’ve in the visions. That meant something had shifted. He had shifted.

The Nyx Puppet’s grin stretched just a little wider, as if it knew.

Jalen swallowed.

It wanted him to keep questioning. To keep doubting. To sink further into the trap.

No.

His focus locked onto Jorm again. The serpent’s gaze bore into him, unwavering. Still waiting.

Not for Jalen to command.

But for Jalen to understand.

And suddenly, he did.

Jorm wasn’t attacking because this wasn’t a battle of strength. If it were, the Puppet wouldn’t have needed the visions at all. No, this was a war of perception. The moment Jalen accepted the reality the Puppet fed him, he lost.

That was why Ember had survived this time. That was why Jorm had been still.

The system wanted him to see inevitability. The Puppet wanted him to see failure.

So what would happen… if he refused?

Jalen exhaled slowly, steadying himself. His heart still thundered, but his mind sharpened.

The Puppet stepped forward, slow, calculated, its shadow stretching toward him.

Jalen didn't move.

The Puppet’s grin twitched.

Jalen lifted his chin. I see you now.

The air felt heavier. The shadows thickened, the world around him pulsing—reacting.

Jalen didn't flinch. He just kept staring at the Puppet. At its shifting form. At the edges of reality twisting around it.

And then, he did something he never would have considered before.

He closed his eyes.

The world around him shuddered.

The weight in the air cracked.

And Jalen whispered, “This isn't real.”

A sound—like glass splintering. A distant, hollow laugh.

Then—

The darkness fractured. When the vision breaks, Jalen is plunged into reality tinted by a familiar blue barrier. Feeling a phantom pain Jalen looking down he noticed he was missing a hand separated cleanly at the wrist.

Jalen’s breath hitched as the glowing tendril coiled around his wrist, the cool energy seeping into his skin like the ebbing tide of a vast ocean. A sharp, tingling sensation crawled up his arm, neither painful nor soothing—just unnatural. The water pulsed, shifting between liquid and solid, flowing like a serpent as it guided his severed hand back to its rightful place.

Ember’s tiny fingers trembled as he held Jalen’s hand steady, his usually flickering form dim and subdued. “Hold still,” the fire spirit murmured, his voice uncharacteristically strained. “It’s trying to—”

A sudden pull.

Jalen grit his teeth as the tendril pulled his severed hand into place. The blue energy wrapped around the wound, weaving itself into the torn flesh like ethereal sutures. Muscle and bone knitted together beneath the liquid light, the sensation both cold and searing at once. His fingers twitched involuntarily, nerves reconnecting in real-time.

Jalen exhaled sharply. His vision wavered, but he forced himself to stay focused. “What is this?” he rasped.