The black sea spread.
The tiger moved.
It was massive—muscle layered over muscle, white fur streaked with black markings that shimmered like living script. Its eyes burned gold, ancient and furious.
Peak Sovereign Tier.
But not natural.
Constructed.
A manifestation of the floor itself.
The tiger vanished.
Drax didn't blink.
He twisted sideways as claws tore through the space where his head had been, the pressure alone cracking the obsidian ground beneath them. The beast reappeared behind him instantly, tail whipping like a blade forged from condensed wind.
Drax raised his Abyssal Sword.
Steel met claw.
Shockwaves detonated outward.
The black sea beneath his feet surged violently as he slid back several meters, boots carving twin trenches through the surface.
"Fast," he muttered.
The tiger roared and lunged again, jaws wide enough to swallow a building. Essence flared from its body in white arcs—pure, concentrated, destructive.
Drax stepped in instead of back.
Advanced Abyssal Combat activated fully.
His movements sharpened—not faster than the tiger, but more precise. Each shift of weight bled off impact. Each deflection redirected force rather than resisting it. He didn't overpower.
He absorbed.
The tiger's claw tore across his side—
Blood sprayed.
But the wound sealed halfway before the second strike came.
Drax pivoted low and slashed upward.
Black steel cut clean.
The tiger's head separated from its body in a single smooth arc.
Silence followed.
The body collapsed—
And melted.
The black substance beneath it rippled violently.
Drax frowned.
The puddle of darkness split.
Rose.
Separated into two towering masses of white fur and crushing pressure.
Two tigers.
Each one radiating power far beyond the first.
Twenty times stronger.
The air fractured.
Drax stared for half a second.
"…Well shit."
The twin tigers roared simultaneously.
The sound bent the horizon.
They attacked together.
This time—
He was pushed back.
Hard.
One tiger struck from above while the other came from below, their coordination flawless. Claws ripped through his guard. Fangs crushed his shoulder, snapping bone before he tore free.
He hit the ground and rolled.
The second tiger pounced.
Its paw crushed him through the obsidian floor, sending cracks spiderwebbing for miles.
Pain flared white.
For a moment—
Darkness edged his vision.
That was close.
He forced his body to respond.
Abyssal essence flooded outward violently, blasting the tiger off him in a wave of devouring force.
He rose, breathing heavier now.
The tigers circled.
Smarter.
Stronger.
Testing.
One feinted high—
The other tore into his ribs from the blind side.
This time he felt something rupture deeper.
His vision flickered.
Near death.
Again.
He spat blood and grinned.
"Okay," he muttered. "Now we're talking."
He didn't charge.
He observed.
Even as he fought—deflecting, bleeding, absorbing—his mind was working.
The essence he had been collecting from the floor wasn't random.
It was structured.
Layered.
The black substance wasn't just summoning replacements.
It was the core.
The tigers were extensions.
As long as the black sea remained—
They would regenerate.
Or multiply.
The floor wasn't testing strength.
It was testing comprehension.
Drax ducked under a claw and let it graze his back deliberately.
Pain sharpened him.
The tigers went berserk.
White essence flared violently around them, doubling their aggression. They stopped circling and attacked relentlessly—bite, claw, impact, shockwave.
Perfect.
Drax retreated deliberately, guiding them.
Step by step.
Drawing them toward a narrowing fissure he had created earlier when he was slammed into the ground.
He let one tiger tackle him.
Rolled with the force.
Kicked off its ribcage and flipped backward.
Both beasts lunged at the same time—
Directly into the fractured depression.
Drax hovered above them, blood dripping from his chin.
"Tigers are supposed to be in the jungle," he said flatly.
"The fuck y'all doing here?"
He extended his right hand.
The black sea beneath him surged upward like a living tide responding to command.
"Devour."
The Abyss answered.
The black substance on the floor erupted—not outward, but inward—collapsing toward his palm.
The tigers roared.
Their bodies began unraveling mid-leap.
White essence tore free in spirals, sucked violently toward Drax's outstretched hand.
They fought it.
Clawed against the pull.
But the Abyss was not force.
It was inevitability.
The tigers shattered into streams of light and darkness, their roars fading into silence as their entire existence compressed into a singular vortex in Drax's palm—
And vanished.
The black sea receded.
Gone.
The floor trembled.
Drax stood alone.
Essence surged through him—dense, violent, ancient.
His Abyssal World expanded internally, stabilizing further.
Late Stage Two.
He exhaled slowly.
"…That's better."
The air shifted.
White light formed beneath his feet.
The voice returned.
"Floor One Cleared."
The space fractured like glass.
And Drax vanished.
He reappeared elsewhere.
Different sky.
Different air.
Different pressure.
Floor Two.
Drax rolled his shoulders once, eyes sharp and calm.
"Let's see what you've got."