Klaus's fingers closed around the chaotic display of broken statistics, his hand passing through the intangible interface as if it were made of crystallized light. The moment his fist clenched with intention guided by the Singularity Principle, reality itself seemed to hold its breath.
Then the transformation began.
What followed was agony that transcended every previous experience of pain Klaus had endured across multiple lifetimes. This wasn't the clean suffering of combat wounds or the burning sensation of magical exhaustion—this was reconstruction at the most fundamental level of existence, as if the universe had decided to disassemble him molecule by molecule and rebuild him according to entirely new specifications.
