The encirclement tightened.
Temporal Locus tracked the motion clearly now—not spatial movement, but continuity bending
around him. The abomination wasn't advancing in straight lines. Its presence folded,
overlapping itself, cutting off angles before he could occupy them. Wherever Orion could exist,
the thing accounted for it.
Orion adjusted immediately.
Protocol reprioritized: objective shift.
Destruction was inefficient. Every limb he erased reformed. Every section he annihilated was
replaced by redistributed mass. This wasn't regeneration in the traditional sense; it was
reallocation. The creature wasn't healing damage—it was moving it.
That meant one thing.
There was a core.
A true anchor. A point that couldn't be replaced without collapse.
Temporal Locus narrowed.
Orion forced concentration deeper, ignoring the external assault as best he could. He stopped
reacting to individual strikes and started reading the system. The abomination's temporal
