I memorised the layout of the room in front of me. I can see where each Devil is located. I have a plan. I take one final steadying breath. It is a mantra. Take a stance. Breath in. Tense my muscles. Reinforce them with demonic power. Exhale. Cut.

My position is immediately bombarded with fireballs and various other attacks. A thick cloud of smoke obscures the doorway. Devils have perfect night vision. I anticipated that. The attacks see nothing but air. I hide behind one of the adjacent walls and mask my energy as my Ancestors did. A tense silence is broken when one of the Devils speaks.

"Is…Is he dead?" One of them utters, seemingly trying to reassure himself.

"He's gotta b –"

I rush through the doorway without hesitation. There is no try. Only do.

"Look out!" A panicked shout tries to warn my current target, the Devil closest to the doorway and the left of their little fortification. His head is separated from his body, and his expression is frozen in shock before the sentence is completed.

"Get him!" another of their number screeches, and many fireballs converge on my position. I make a somersault to the opposite end of the room, landing blade first on another shocked researcher. I quickly twist and bisect the other Devil next to him, wasting no time; I throw my blade towards a third. Eleven to go.

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I weave between the oncoming attacks, avoiding each by a hair's breadth. I can feel the heat of the fireballs as they pass millimetres away from my body. I place myself between a couple of Devils and the rest of the group and waste no time delivering a wild haymaker to the one to my right, followed by a swift roundhouse kick to the one on my left.

In the same breath, I summon my blade. Their parts litter the floor in the next.

I enter a trance. Duck under the fireball. Spring to the next target. Part his head from his body. Onto the next. An attack grazes my leg. The pain almost overwhelms my mind. Breath in. Breath out. Another head joins the pile.

I faced the remaining seven with no cover in what felt like a moment. Every muscle in my battered and abused body is protesting the sheer stress of the last few minutes. I notice my entire body is shaking. The air seems to drown my lungs, each breath more desperate than the last.

The telltale light of magic circles brings me back to earth or wherever I am. There is no try; only do. Seven attacks launch into my position. I dump all my mana into my last gamble.

[Arcane Singularity!]

The world draws to a stop. A singular bead of sweat drips from my long bangs. It does not make it to the floor. All matter carries mass. Mass gravitates towards each other. The larger the mass, the stronger the pull. I just tore a hole in reality. With the mass of a small moon.

Everything in the room, bolted to the floor or otherwise, is violently pulled towards a singularity—square in the middle of the group. The attacks, which are halfway towards me, are also pulled back. I stabbed my sword with all that I had left and more besides. It sinks to the hilt.

The researchers are violently ripped apart, atom by atom. Panels on the floor are torn loose. Nothing is spared in the carnage, makeshift fortifications, light fixtures, and electrical wiring.

A moment later, the black hole collapses, and a massive shockwave of air shakes the facility to its core. Cracks in the floor form, and the ceiling is slowly collapsing. I felt a sudden pain in the back of my head, and I knew no more.