The Mindscape shuddered violently with every strike, yet it held firm. Strikes collided, powers erupted, and the very void seemed to bend under their fury. Though barely twenty minutes had passed in real-time, every second stretched into an eternity for those fighting.
The creature had begun faltering, constantly switching between offense and defense, trying desperately to maintain the flow of battle. But Striver's speed had tripled, his overwhelming power reshaping every exchange. Skill alone could not match this—raw force, unrelenting, impossible to anticipate, was all that met the creature now.
"Swap."
The word struck like a bell of doom. Layla, moments from being smashed by Striver's fist, froze. Her eyes widened, the incoming blow too close to dodge. Her only option was to block—but even as she raised her arms, the creature's lips curled into a predatory smile.
But then Striver acted. He vanished into a black hole, collapsing space itself around him, and reappeared beside the creature, taking the strike in full. The impact hurled it kilometers across the void, momentum ripping the air with a deafening roar.
Before it could gather itself, Layla struck. Her blades, forged from dark threads of time and space, carved through its chest with precision and fury. The creature's eyes flickered in shock. The black hole—it remembered. Decades ago, a being of unimaginable power had used this very technique to trap it here. But these two… they were rewriting the definition of power itself. A sliver of fear pierced its ancient arrogance.
It recovered, voice sharp: "Reflect."
Instantly, its wounds vanished. Then, a jolt of searing pain surged through Striver and Layla, invading their minds. It was a taunt, a wave of suffering meant to overwhelm—but instead, it ignited their focus. Layla, feeling the excruciating pain, couldn't help but smile. Turning to Striver, voice soft yet confident, she whispered, "We got him."
Striver's grin widened, sinister and commanding. His voice rang out with authority, vibrating across the void: "Vanish."
The pain stopped abruptly. Striver's expression twisted into an evil, godlike smile, freezing the creature in disbelief and fear.
"Impossible," it muttered, trembling.
"How?" it gasped, voice shaky.
Striver tilted his head, shrugging. The smile never left his face. "Nothing is impossible when I exist."
The creature froze. Every word sank deep into its core. Even immortal pride had never trembled like this before. Helplessness, a sensation it had never truly felt, clawed at its mind. Escape—the only thought it could cling to—became an obsession.
But Striver was already beside it. Arm draped casually across its shoulders, he held it like a friend returning after decades apart.
"Bud, why are you running? The fun is just starting," he said, calm and deadly.
Layla had already begun her preparations, bending time and space into weapons of unimaginable complexity. Arrows that seemed to slice reality, blades that tore the threads of existence itself. She nodded at Striver. His voice boomed, sharp with authority: "Don't talk."
Instantly, chains erupted from the void, latching onto the creature's wrists and suspending it helplessly. Its struggles were useless. It had never felt such helplessness in all its centuries of existence. Fear, sharp and unrelenting, pierced it deeper than any weapon.
Layla loosed the first arrow. It struck the creature's stomach, embedding deep and sending a jolt of pain coursing through it. Another arrow followed, then another. Each shot was precise, bending reality to ensure no escape. Striver moved fluidly, his movements a blur, creating additional weapons of time and energy that carved further into the creature's defenses.
Pain washed over the creature in relentless waves. Arrows pierced, blades slashed, space itself seemed to twist against it. Its pride cracked, dignity shredded, and fear consumed it fully. Its immortal arrogance was meaningless now, replaced with a raw, primal terror it had never experienced.
Minutes passed, yet the assault continued. Striver and Layla did not relent. Each strike was as much about venting frustration as it was about teaching a lesson. The creature hung, battered and bleeding, wounds regenerating slowly, unable to escape. The Mindscape itself seemed to pulse with their combined fury, echoing with laughter and triumph.
During brief pauses, Striver observed Layla. Amidst the chaos, they spoke, shared strategies, and even laughed at the creature's helplessness. It was a rare, humanizing moment, and it warmed him more than any victory ever could.
The creature, meanwhile, seethed. Mocked, battered, and humiliated, it hated them with every fiber of its being. Pride shattered. Respect lost. Fear embedded. Yet there was nothing it could do but endure. Each arrow, each slash, each manifestation of godlike power reminded it that the balance of power had shifted irrevocably.
Finally, Layla turned to Striver, smiling through exhaustion and lingering adrenaline. "We can leave now, right?"
"Yes."
Striver extended his arms, energy coalescing between his hands. Reality warped as a portal formed, its glow dark purple, radiating both shadow and light, a bridge between worlds.
"Shall we?" he asked, holding out his hand.
She laughed softly, gripping it without hesitation. Together, they stepped into the portal, leaving the Mindscape behind. Training complete. Power sharpened. Unstoppable.
The creature hung in the void behind them, bleeding, battered, humiliated, yet alive—its wounds slowly regenerating. It could not leave. It could only watch as its tormentors vanished, mocking its defeat with every step. And though it hated them, it could not escape the lesson burned deep into its soul: Striver and Layla were beyond comprehension, beyond fear, beyond defeat.