Adam's gaze locked onto the rigid figures. They remained motionless, with only occasional glints of faint light flickering in their sockets like dying candles.
"Careful, these things are fast—faster than any maximum speed you can imagine. But they have a weakness—"
Tyler's voice came from the side, tense and urgent. He kept his eyes fixed on the silent killing machines. These former Foundation members, modified by an unknown anomaly, possessed near-immortal bodies and forearms transformed into bizarre blades of bone and flesh, sharp enough to slice through almost any known solid object. In the complex environment of urban warfare, they were perfect weapons, posing a massive threat to high-value spellcasting units and anomalous individuals.
Tyler raised his staff, light gathering at its tip, yet he dared not make a move.
"I know," Adam interrupted. "Just like a certain well-known anomaly, as long as we maintain constant eye contact, they can't move, right?"
"...How do you know that?" Tyler froze for a moment, a flash of surprise crossing his eyes before being suppressed by the tension of battle. These "Blinkers" were weapons the Foundation had deployed for the first time in this massacre; no thaumaturge should have seen these modifications before.
A second later, he filled in the blanks himself: "Does your universe's Foundation have these weapons too?"
"Something like that," Adam replied dismissively. With a flick of his left hand, a dozen smoke grenades appeared and slid to the ground silently.
Tyler caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, his pupils shrinking. When did he do that?
The Foundation, having created these weapons, understood their traits perfectly. Every time they used Thaumic Manifestation to teleport Blinkers, they accompanied the arrival with a mass of smoke grenades. Under the cover of smoke, the Blinkers' speed reached its peak, allowing them to slaughter a regiment of elite soldiers in an instant.
But now, those smoke grenades had been dealt with before they could even trigger. Who was this guy? His combat experience was unnervingly rich.
Just then, the air tore open. A dark shadow lunged from the ruins to Adam's right, its arm-blade carving a lethal arc toward his neck.
Adam dropped his stance instantly. The joints of the Hunting Rig erupted with light as the power system hit full capacity. His body slid along the ground, narrowly passing beneath the blade's path. A violent sonic boom cloud erupted behind him, the resulting shockwave scattering nearby rubble.
Adam had no interest in testing the Rig's defensive capabilities right now; he didn't stop. While dodging, his gaze swept to the right, where another Blinker had appeared, frozen in mid-swing the moment his eyes made contact.
Distributed teleportation.
The judgment flashed through Adam's mind. The Foundation knew the weakness of these weapons, so they chose multi-point deployment, forcing the enemy into a position where they couldn't watch every target at once. Adam realized that spatial awareness and the cloaked cameras from Inferior Cawl were useless here; only direct ocular observation worked.
Tyler moved. He waved his staff like a conductor's baton, tracing complex arcs in the air. His lips moved rapidly, chanting incantations in a language Adam didn't recognize—every syllable consumed EVE particles, forcing reality to change.
The air vibrated. Countless chains emerged from the void, silver-white light flowing between the links. They acted like living things, snaking toward the frozen Blinkers and binding their limbs, torsos, and necks. Simultaneously, the earth came alive. The shattered concrete road bulged, and thick bars of stone and earth surged up like giant pythons, coiling around the modified soldiers to form heavy seals.
Flashes erupted around Tyler—signs of thaumaturgic backflow, the energy of ritual recoil releasing into the air. However, this Serpent's Hand member's control was staggering; the flashes did not obstruct Adam's line of sight for even a moment.
Adam's spatial perception expanded to its limit. He spun around, his gaze like a knife, landing on a flickering afterimage that had just solidified. Another Blinker froze in place.
Adam cursed inwardly. These things had near-invulnerable bodies, but the most annoying part was their high Hume level. They weren't something a Level 3 reality warper could simply blink out of existence with a casual collapse of reality. Being Foundation combat units, they were naturally difficult to erase.
However, this small hurdle wouldn't stop him. Then... to the right. Another one. Five. Seven. Eleven.
Moving at high speed, Adam caught the Blinkers as they manifested one after another. Every time one appeared, it froze the instant Adam's gaze shifted to it. By constantly adjusting his position, Adam kept every Blinker in the vicinity pinned down by his stare.
This wasn't a fight. It was a hunt conducted with eyes.
The final Blinker manifested at the edge of the ruins. Adam's gaze swept over, and the figure froze. Tyler's staff swung down, and chains and stone surged simultaneously, swallowing it whole.
Then, silence. There was only the distant sound of artillery and the faint grinding of concrete as the "statues" settled. Tyler stood in place, gasping for air. Sweat beaded on his forehead, the light on his staff dimmed, and he looked completely drained.
"It's done..." he whispered, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
The battle had seemed plain—no flying flesh, no earth-shattering explosions—but a single mistake, a momentary shift in Adam's gaze, and those arm-blades would have shredded Tyler in a second.
The Serpent's Hand member turned to look at Adam. The bizarre armor stood among the ruins, poised and calm. Tyler nodded in recognition. Regardless of which universe this guy came from, he was a trustworthy comrade.
Then, he heard Adam speak: "How much do you know about thaumaturgy?"
Tyler's eye twitched. He took back his previous appraisal. Are you serious, man? Is there any difference between that question and asking a chef if they know how to cook? Couldn't he tell?
"Isn't that a redundant question?" he snapped. "Get to the point."
Adam was silent for a second, organizing his words. "As far as I know, the effect of Thaumic Manifestation is achieved by consuming EVE particles. Long-distance teleportation consumes a massive amount of life force. Unless there's a convenient energy connection like a Ley Line, their teleportation point shouldn't be far from here." He paused, looking at the solidified concrete statues. "In that case, why don't we go and have a face-to-face talk with them?"
Tyler frowned. "You want to strike back?"
"If we're going to solve this, it's impossible without direct contact with Foundation members," Adam's voice was steady but carried an unquestionable weight. "Reacting passively won't solve this world's problems."
"So my proposal is simple. You're a Serpent's Hand thaumaturge, right? Seeing you fight just now, you're clearly powerful and skilled. Could you do me a favor and help me track the source of this Thaumic Manifestation?"
Tyler looked at him, speechless. Track the target? Sounds easy. Did he think the Foundation people were idiots? Their mastery of thaumaturgy was no worse than any specialized organization.
"Let me think how to explain this..." Tyler asked, "How much do you actually know about thaumaturgy?"
"...Let me see." Adam rubbed his chin. "The Three Laws? Similarity creates similarity, the part affects the whole, and observation changes reality?"
Tyler's face froze visibly. That was basically knowing nothing! It was like asking someone what they knew about physics and they replied with Newton's Three Laws. It wasn't wrong, but it was just common sense.
"In other words, there's a practical problem," Tyler took a deep breath, suppressing his emotions. "The time since that manifestation burst is too long; we can't find the traces anymore. If you could make those traces visible, then we could talk about the next step."
"That's easy." Adam snapped his fingers.
A crisp sound echoed through the ruins. In the air, streaks of flickering, strange light suddenly appeared, as if peeled from the void by an invisible hand, outlining a clear path through the thick smoke. The light was a bizarre cyan-purple, winding above the rubble.
Tyler: "..."
He opened his mouth, looked at the traces, and then at Adam. After a long moment, Tyler finally realized.
"...You're a Green Type!" He slapped his thigh and shouted, "Why didn't you say so earlier?"
"I thought you'd figured it out." Adam shrugged innocently.
"How could I tell? I don't have an EVE detector on me right now; I can't see the color of your life field!" Tyler grumbled, but then a complex expression crossed his face. "But this makes things simpler. I'll explain the principles of Thaumic Manifestation to you, and you can just 'imagine' it into happening. Reality warpers are so convenient; much less trouble than us Blue Types."
He paused, his voice turning somber. "But... think it through. That's the jailers' nest. I don't need to tell you how dangerous it is. And..." Tyler watched Adam with a scrutinizing gaze. "This world has nothing to do with you, right? You're from another universe. Why are you doing this?"
Thick smoke swirled around them, and the distant artillery fire continued intermittently. Adam met his gaze and simply smiled.
"No reason, really. Just because I want to." He paused. "That's all."
Tyler stared at him for two seconds, then chuckled—whether in realization or mockery, it was hard to tell. "Fine. That reason... is more than enough."
Half an hour later, Tyler's long lecture finally ended. From the wave characteristics of manifestation to the residue patterns of EVE particles, from the flow of Ley Line energy to the anchor points of spatial teleportation—he had tried to cram a lifetime of knowledge into Adam's head.
Adam listened intently, nodding occasionally. Then he closed his eyes, sensing the flickering traces in the air, letting the principles Tyler described settle, merge, and reorganize in his consciousness.
"I see. I understand everything..." he whispered.
The golden light before him suddenly expanded, surging like something alive, swallowing Adam's entire form in an instant. The light was blinding. Tyler squinted instinctively, only seeing Adam's silhouette fade and dissolve into the radiance.
The scene changed again—
Wait, why did I think "again"? Before Adam could suppress that sudden thought, the surroundings solidified.
This was a command center. A massive holographic projection unfolded in the center, marking every inch of Three Portlands. Red areas were spreading, while blue markers were disappearing. Dozens of researchers sat at terminals, fingers sliding rapidly across light screens as data streams poured down like waterfalls.
They wore Foundation uniforms. Every single one of them had eyes that were hollow and empty. It wasn't exhaustion, numbness, or any normal human emotion—it was just a void. Their eyes were lifeless, like two pools of stagnant water.
Everyone was discussing how to quickly eliminate humanity and how to more efficiently slaughter the survivors in the city, their tone as calm as if discussing what to have for lunch. It was a rationality more terrifying than madness.
"Eastern District resistance reduced by 87%, total clearance expected within four hours."
"Fluctuation detected in Containment Unit 3, reinforcement required."
"Population processing progress is lagging; acceleration recommended."
Rational and efficient, they spoke like machines. Adam's gaze swept the command center—massive metal bulkheads, flickering instrument lights, a faint smell of ozone in the air, and a deeper, indefinable... silence.
Then, everyone saw the intruder. The moment the light faded, dozens of gazes turned simultaneously. Those hollow eyes locked onto Adam.
Without any hesitation, without any warning, the researchers and guards reached for their waists, desks, and walls. In an instant, weapons Adam couldn't name were raised, their dark muzzles aimed at his chest.
"Don't be nervous. I come in peace." Adam spread his hands, making a gesture to show he meant no harm.
"..." "..." "..."
There was no further reaction. Only—
"Hostile contact."
A flat voice spoke, as if stating the weather. In the next instant, a literal wall of fire submerged Adam. Energy beams, a rain of kinetic rounds, flashes of thaumaturgic attacks, and things Adam couldn't even name poured in from all sides, so dense they tore the air itself with a piercing shriek.
Adam's silhouette was instantly buried. Then came the explosion. An endless explosion.