Khar'razoth roared—pain and fury combined into sound that operated across dimensions, that made the nightmare realm itself vibrate with sympathetic resonance.
The roar carried force that shattered Satou's quantum superposition. Eleven of the twelve versions simply popped out of existence, reality reasserting itself, uncertainty collapsing into singular truth.
Only the real Satou remained, his body already moving before the roar's shockwave could catch him.
But he'd done damage. Real damage.
Khar'razoth's four-hundred-foot form showed wounds. Large sections of flesh missing. Tentacles reduced from thousands back to hundreds. The lion-skull cracked again, fractures spreading deeper despite ongoing regeneration attempts.
"ENOUGH GAMES," the Ancient God declared, its voice carrying weight that made reality tremble. "YOU HAVE PROVEN YOUR WORTH. NOW FACE THE CONSEQUENCE OF EARNING A GOD'S FULL ATTENTION."
What happened next transcended normal combat.
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