Sixty became fifty.
Forty.
Thirty.
Twenty.
Ten.
The last ten soldiers somehow maintained enough sanity to fight back. They formed a desperate circle, blessed weapons facing outward, eyes wild but still rational.
Satou respected their resilience.
He killed them with [VOID FANG].
His claws, coated in existence-erasing energy, swept through the defensive circle. Where soldiers had been standing, now there was simply... absence. Not corpses. Not blood. Not even empty air.
Just void. Reality deleted. Existence unmade.
The ten soldiers ceased to exist, their atoms scattered across non-being, their souls unable to even reach whatever afterlife they believed in because the very concept of "them" had been erased.
Northern sector: cleared.
Five hundred human soldiers dead in under eight minutes.
Satou stood alone in the nightmare realm, surrounded by absence and horror and the slowly dissolving forms of his shadow servants.
