The chamber… it wasn't a chamber. At least, not in any sense Erevan could hold onto. Every blink rewrote the space around him. One moment, jagged walls bled corrupted text, like the world itself had been ripped open; the next, a cathedral of pale, impossible light stretched above him, vast and serene in contrast.
His stomach lurched. Still falling? Or just feeling it? The pulse of the Anchor Core hammered in his chest like liquid electricity, tiny shocks crawling across his nerves, making his fingertips tingle with static.
Voices. Dozens of them. Whispers not around him, but inside him. Some calm. Some frenzied. Some absurdly nonsensical. Each tugged at his consciousness, insisting, demanding—I am you.
The Duck Emperor flapped violently, wings sending sparks of golden static skittering across the shifting floor. Its unblinking eyes were locked on him, protective, questioning. Erevan's chest tightened at the sight. Even here, amidst the chaos, the absurd little bird grounded him.
A laugh curled through the space, low, amused. The clone leaned against a wall—or maybe it wasn't a wall at all. Maybe everything was nothing. "Well?" he drawled. "How does it feel, Anchor?"
Erevan staggered, hands trembling, forcing himself upright. The Codex floated beside him, flickering like it had its own heartbeat. Sparks—red, blue, green, black—danced across his fingertips, coiling into the air like they wanted to escape.
"…loud," he admitted, voice tight, almost trembling with awe.
The clone smirked, hands still in his pockets, casual as ever. "Good. You'll need the noise. They're coming."
The floor trembled beneath him.
Shapes emerged from the walls—glitching, fracturing, alive. Tiny crystalline spiders skittered across the floor, legs scraping in shrill, ear-piercing shrieks, bodies warping reality around them. Jagged wolves with fractured code-forms slunk through the shadows, teeth glinting like shards of data, scanning him with eerie, searching eyes.
The Codex pulsed beside him. [Threat Identified: Core Guardians. Origin: Self-Defense Program of Anchor System. Classification: Class Omega. Objective: Neutralize Intruder Identity.]
Erevan clenched his jaw, voice low. "Of course it's never easy."
The Duck Emperor shrieked, barreling straight at the nearest spider, feathers flaring into sharp streaks of golden light. Sparks erupted on contact, scattering shards of corrupted code.
Erevan gripped the Codex tighter. Inside him, the voices shifted—cards in a turbulent deck, flipping and snapping. And then, without warning, the first Fragment Surge hit.
Power surged, raw and instinctive, coursing through his veins. The spider leaping at his shoulder froze mid-air, fangs stopping just short. Pain flickered in memory, but his body… untouched. He laughed, breathless, ragged.
"Oh… that's broken," he muttered, a thrill of disbelief mixing with adrenaline.
The Codex glowed, awarding points he barely had time to notice. Glyphs flared around the attacking spiders, compressing them into neat cubes of static. Wolves lunged, teeth bared, and he kicked them aside as sparks flew.
The clone drifted behind him, casual as a shadow. "They'll keep scaling until you collapse. That's what Guardians do."
"Then I'll collapse them first," Erevan spat back, defiance sparking from his core, mingling with the surge of raw, instinctive power.
Another Fragment Surge hit. Light coalesced in his hands, forming a rifle unlike anything he'd ever held. Muscle memory from countless alternate selves guided him—hold, aim, fire. A wolf lunged. The beam of compressed code sliced through it cleanly, evaporating its head into a cloud of static.
"Oh… I like this one," he breathed, exhilaration and disbelief warring in his chest.
The Duck Emperor dove at another wolf, feathers slicing like blades. Quacks burst out in a rhythm both terrifying and exhilarating. The Codex flipped pages furiously, glyphs spilling into the air as Erevan instinctively sketched runes, bending time under [Recursive Loop]. Spiders shattered repeatedly, collapsing into dust.
Points accumulated, but the Guardians didn't stop. Waves grew larger, more complex. Each creature's form shimmered with alien symbols, incomprehensible but deadly. A spider the size of a carriage slammed onto the floor, eyes glowing lantern-bright, maw splitting the air with a chorus of distorted error sounds.
The Codex vibrated violently in his hands. The Core's pulse slammed into his chest. Another Fragment Surge flared. Luminous glitch-flora erupted from the floor, wrapping around the spider's legs, bursting in blinding reds and blues.
Erevan staggered back. Eyes wide. Chest hammering. "Okay… that was terrifying."
The clone chuckled, drifting behind him, calm and unbothered. "You think that's terrifying? Wait until Fragment Surge spits out something truly unstable."
The Duck Emperor shrieked again, diving straight at the elite spider's crystalline chest. Chunks of glowing error tore away as the creature collapsed into a storm of static.
Erevan dropped to one knee, panting. Inside him, the fragments whispered, dozens of voices competing for dominance.
[Stability Flux Activated. System Points Randomly Adjusted: -300.]
"What—hey, what the hell?!" he barked, laughter cracking through tension, disbelief, and exhilaration.
The Codex pulsed mockingly. The clone's smirk widened. "Welcome to your new normal," he said, calm as ever.
The Guardians didn't pause. Wolves with jagged, code-fractured fangs lunged from every angle. Crystalline spiders the size of carriages skittered from ceilings, clambering down with deafening crashes. Hybrid monstrosities flickered into being, shapes unstable, shifting constantly as if reality itself struggled to hold them together.
Erevan's heartbeat matched the Core's pulse. Sparks of light danced along his veins, fragments whispering, screaming, cajoling him forward. He flexed his fingers, releasing streams of raw energy that sliced through the first wave of wolves. Each strike was instinctual—less calculation, more pure, frenzied rhythm.
The Duck Emperor flared into the air, feathers igniting like molten gold. It darted and spun, a blur of fury, beak tearing through crystalline armor, quacking in a rhythm that rattled even the largest Guardians. Erevan felt its presence anchor him, absurd and unwavering in the chaos.
[Fragment Surge Activated: Phantom Rewind]
He blinked. The world snapped two seconds back. A wolf mid-leap hung frozen inches from his chest. Pain remembered, but the body… untouched. His laugh cracked out, ragged, a mix of disbelief and adrenaline.
"Oh… that's broken," he whispered again, breath ragged.
Another surge hit. Light condensed in his hands, forming a rifle that pulsed like it had a heartbeat. Memory fragments from countless alternate selves guided him, teaching instinctively how to hold, aim, fire. A wolf lunged. The beam of raw code sliced cleanly through it, evaporating its form into sparks of static.
"Oh… I like this one," he gasped, staggering back, heart hammering.
The waves didn't relent. Another Fragment Surge: Chaotic Bloom flared. Luminous glitch-flora erupted from the floor, wrapping around legs, slashing limbs, bursting into blinding red and blue explosions. One monstrous spider let out a crystalline scream, body fracturing under the combined assault.
The clone drifted near, calm, casual as ever. "You're learning to dance with the chaos," he said, voice teasing. "But don't get cocky. It scales with you."
Erevan snorted, breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Then I'll dance harder."
Inside him, the fragments whispered with increasing intensity. Some taught precision, some raw instinct, some lent knowledge of alternate combat styles. One memory flickered, reminding him to breathe, to notice the sparks crawling across his skin, the static that prickled his scalp. He did, for a fleeting moment, and it grounded him.
Time bent under the Codex's command. Glyphs tore across the chamber, slicing space itself. Wolves shattered, reformed, and shattered again, trapped in an endless loop until their forms collapsed into nothing. The Codex pulsed with each strike, pages fluttering, glyphs spinning like fire.
Erevan's eyes sparkled with wild energy. Every heartbeat, every ragged breath, every instinctive movement—he was alive, more than alive. The chaos fed him, every surge of energy, every fragment's whisper adding to the crescendo of destruction.
The Duck Emperor dove again, feathers a blur, quacking sharply. Each strike synchronized with Erevan's flickering abilities, the rifle in one hand, energy sword in the other, glyphs painting arcs of pure light.
Another Fragment Surge erupted, uncontained. Vines of luminous static wrapped around hybrid monsters, detonating into bursts that sent shards of code spiraling through the air. The chamber itself seemed alive, shifting with the rhythm of battle—walls bleeding corrupted text, then morphing into glowing cathedral light, floor trembling with every Guardian strike.
Erevan stumbled, breath heavy, eyes wide with awe. "This… this is insane," he muttered, laughing raggedly, almost in disbelief at the sheer, impossible scale of it.
The fragments inside him screamed with joy, fear, and determination all at once. Some urged caution, others demanded reckless action. He let them guide him, instinct and strategy melding in the chaos.
The clone's voice cut through the storm, calm amid madness. "Keep moving. Trust it. Trust yourself."
Erevan gritted his teeth, pushing forward, diving into the impossible tide. Every step, every strike, every detonation of chaotic flora became part of him. His powers surged, fragments screaming, Codex pulsing in hand, carving a path through chaos itself.
And the Guardians kept coming, their numbers multiplying as if the Anchor Core itself were feeding them from some unseen reservoir. The chamber quivered under their weight, reality bending, warping, folding around the unrelenting storm of sparks, glyphs, and golden feathers.
Erevan inhaled sharply, feeling alive in a way he hadn't known in centuries. Heart racing, lungs burning, mind screaming with the fragments' voices, he laughed—a sharp, wild, entirely human laugh.
"Fine," he shouted, voice cracking over the chaos. "Let's see how far I can push this noise."
The waves never stopped. They kept coming, more Guardians than he could count, shapes flickering in and out of existence like glitches in a corrupted dream. Spiders, wolves, hybrids—all twisted, unstable, alive with static and chaos.
Erevan's chest heaved, lungs burning, heart hammering. But he didn't falter. Not anymore. He felt the fragments inside him—not just whispers now, but a storm of memories, instincts, emotions, all converging, all urging him forward. Each fragment was a piece of himself, every version lending its skill, its knowledge, its rage and laughter.
[Fragment Surge Activated: Hybrid Override]
The world exploded around him. Sparks, light, glyphs, feathers—everything blurred. Time bent, stretched, and folded, each second dragging into the next like molten glass. He gasped, feeling every surge, every pulse of the Core, every heartbeat of the chaos itself.
He could feel his other selves—dozens, maybe hundreds—melding into one. Movement, strategy, instinct, emotion—they were all him, and he was all of them. Every step, every swing of the energy sword, every shot from the rifle, every glyph cast in midair flowed together seamlessly. He laughed, a raw, ragged sound that echoed across the chamber. "This… this is me."
The Duck Emperor was a golden blur beside him, feathers slicing through the chaos with deadly precision. Its quacks rang out like a battle hymn, synchronizing with Erevan's every move. He stumbled briefly over a mass of shattered code, breath coming in sharp bursts, and then dove headfirst back into the tide, exhilaration flooding him.
[System Update: Fragment Convergence Complete]
The Codex floated beside him, pages fluttering wildly. Glyphs tore through the air like lightning, translating fragments of reality into raw, manipulable code. [System Points Awarded: +1240]
Erevan's mind screamed with sensation. Sparks coiled around his fingers, static danced across his skin, and the fragments inside him whispered, argued, sang, and laughed all at once. He let them guide him, let them be him. And in that moment, he wasn't just Erevan. He was the Glitched Anchor, fully realized, unstoppable, a storm of pure chaotic power.
A hybrid monstrosity lunged from the floor, eyes glowing like corrupted lanterns, teeth snapping. He reacted without thinking, spinning, rifle firing, sword swinging, glyphs weaving around the creature like ribbons of light. It collapsed into static, shattering in a shower of sparks. He laughed again, breathless, heart pounding, adrenaline singing in his veins.
"Bring it," he shouted, voice cracking. "Bring everything!"
The chamber warped around him. Walls bled error-text, then folded into smooth cathedral light, then shattered again. Crystalline spiders crashed from the ceiling, wolves sprang from jagged floors, hybrids twisted into shapes that should not exist. And he moved through it all with a grace he had never known, fragments guiding, instincts firing, the Duck Emperor circling like a golden sentinel.
[Fragment Whisper: Stabilization Achieved]
The Codex pulsed. [System Prompt: Core Sync 99% Complete]
He felt it in his chest—a hum, a pulse, a rhythm that was both terrifying and exhilarating. Everything inside him clicked, aligned, converged. He was not just surviving the chaos anymore. He was controlling it.
Erevan fell to his knees for a fraction of a second, letting the storm wash over him. Sparks fizzed along his skin, fragments whispered encouragement, and he let out a breath so long it felt like he was exhaling centuries of tension. Then he laughed—a sharp, wild, entirely human sound, echoing across the chamber.
"Yeah," he muttered between ragged chuckles, "this… this is exactly where I'm supposed to be."
Another surge hit. Chaotic Bloom erupted in blinding bursts of red and blue light. Wolves, spiders, hybrids—they disintegrated before him, evaporating into streams of data. And yet, he didn't stop. He danced through the chaos, rifle, sword, glyphs, and fragments all moving as one.
[System Update: Anchor Core Stability Confirmed]
[System Prompt: All Fragments Synchronized]
Erevan's grin widened, heart pounding, lungs burning, exhilaration thrumming through him like electricity. He could feel the fragments whispering—some laughing, some crying, some just being. He let them. He wanted them.
The Duck Emperor shrieked, feathers igniting into a blazing comet of gold, diving into another wave of Guardians. He followed, Codex in hand, powers blazing, fragments screaming, laughter spilling free.
"This is… beautiful," he whispered, voice raw, almost reverent. "Pure chaos. Pure… me."
The chamber trembled, Guardians multiplying, sparks flying, glyphs tearing the air. But he didn't falter. He was alive. More than alive. Infinite. Glitched. Anchored. Unstoppable.
And as he surged forward, fully, irrevocably, gloriously the Glitched Anchor, he felt it—the pulse of the Core, the whispers of every fragment, the exhilaration of chaos bending to his will.
"Let's go," he muttered, a grin splitting his face. "Next stage… I'm ready."