Xander's mind was still, focused, and steady as the pendant rested cool against his chest. The soothing pulse of its energy was a small comfort in the midst of the chaos that had unfolded. He had time—more than enough time. He wasn't in a rush to finalize his plan, not yet. Not when he was so close to understanding the creature he faced. The longer he could hold out, the more information he could gather. And the more information he had, the better chance he'd have to deal the final blow.
Time: 720/1100
Twelve minutes was plenty of time.
In these precious moments, Xander could afford to take the risk of draining his energy reserves. To ensure victory, he needed more than just brute strength—he needed to understand what he was up against. Every second of this battle had been unpredictable, and to end it, he had to stay one step ahead.
The creature, whatever it was, existed beyond the limits of normal perception. It didn't move like anything Xander had ever faced before. Its strikes came from shadows that shouldn't have concealed it, its form bending and twisting in ways that defied logic. He couldn't predict its movements, couldn't read its intentions. But the pendant… the pendant could change the rules.
The pendant's second effect—You can't sense me—was the key to leveling the playing field. It was a gamble, a dangerous one, but it was the only option. By activating it, he could blur his presence, make himself invisible to the creature's perception. But the price was steep. In order to fight the thing, he'd have to give up part of himself—surrender some of his own existence. It was a strange feeling, knowing he would be operating in a near-blind state. And yet, the alternative, the reality of failure, was worse.
Xander pulled up the item's description again, his fingers trembling slightly as he reread the effects. He'd committed them to memory, but it never hurt to be sure.
You can't sense me—a potent effect, but it came with a cost. It would hide him from the creature, but it would also cut him off from his surroundings, leaving him in a sensory void. The idea of fighting blind wasn't comforting. Yet, there was no choice. He either made the sacrifice or faced certain death.
With a deep breath, he focused on the pendant's unfamiliar energy. His body was weary, but his mind was clear. He steadied his breathing, pushing through the growing fog of exhaustion as he activated the effect. The world seemed to flicker around him for a brief, disorienting moment, as if he were seeing two overlapping realities. His own presence began to feel… muted, as though he were fading into the very fabric of the room. For a moment, he almost felt as if he wasn't truly there at all.
It worked.
His senses dulled to a faint whisper, and the room around him seemed quieter, more distant. But he was still here, still in control. He had to be.
The creature, it seemed, thrived on stealth. It didn't want to fight head-on; it relied on confusion, on hiding in plain sight. If he could provoke it, make it come to him, force it into a mistake, he could end this. His grip on the rebar tightened, the cold metal a solid anchor in his hands.
Moving to the center of the room, Xander positioned himself beneath the flickering lights. The open space would make him a target, but it would also give him room to maneuver. If the creature wanted to strike, it would have to show itself.
The creature would be vulnerable once it revealed itself—he just had to make it. His plan was simple, almost reckless: use Time Stop to finish the creature in a single strike, just like he had done before. He had enough time energy for one more go, but he needed the monster to play along.
"Here goes nothing," Xander muttered under his breath. The words felt muffled, distant, even to his own ears, as if his voice didn't quite belong to him. A faint shiver ran through him, but he shoved it aside. He had no time to second-guess himself. The creature had to be baited.
With a deep breath, Xander released the Time Stop.
The world snapped back into place with a jarring shift, the silence broken by the faint hum of the flickering lights above him. Xander's senses felt dulled, muted, like the world had been turned down to a low volume. His body, still, his presence hidden, stood in the center of the room like a shadow amongst shadows. The air, thick and heavy, seemed to pulse with an odd energy.
Then, a flicker in the corner of his vision. A ripple, a distortion in the shadows—this time, it was different. This wasn't the same elusive blur he'd seen before. This was something tethered to his reality, a presence that was here, not just something that existed outside his perception.
It worked.
Xander held his ground, his grip on the rebar firm but loose, ready for a quick strike. He didn't need to see the creature. Even in this veiled state, he could feel it—its presence faintly brushing against his awareness, like a whisper just beyond reach. It circled him now, its movements slower, more deliberate, testing him. The balance had shifted. He wasn't blind anymore; now, he was in control.
Then, a sudden movement—faster than he anticipated. The creature lunged.
A streak of distorted air shot toward him, too fast for Xander to track with his eyes. But his instincts were honed, his body trained to move with precision. As the creature closed the gap, he activated Time Stop one final time. The world ground to a halt, the space around him freezing mid-assault. The creature's distorted form hung in the air, its outline barely visible in the stillness, like something unnatural suspended in time.
The pendant's effect took hold, unraveling the veil that had hidden the creature. Its true form was revealed in full, even as the world stood still. What Xander saw made his blood run cold.
The creature was a nightmare made flesh—if it could even be called flesh. It was a twisted mass of contradictions, jagged glass-like protrusions jutting from its body at impossible angles, while tendrils of smoke and shifting shadows seemed to crawl from its form, warping and reforming as if they weren't bound by the laws of nature. Its surface shimmered with a liquid iridescence, constantly shifting colors that made Xander's eyes ache just to look at them. The colors seemed to bleed into each other, creating patterns that bent his thoughts into confusion.
Eyes—no, slits—scattered across its body blinked open and shut erratically, their glowing amber hue fixating on him with an intensity that sent shivers crawling down his spine. The very sight of them felt invasive, like they were peering into the depths of his mind, revealing things he wasn't meant to see.
At the center of the creature's roiling mass, its core pulsed, faintly at first, then stronger. It was a gaping void—a wound in reality itself. The longer Xander stared at it, the more it seemed to pull at him, an unnatural gravity that threatened to draw him in. It wasn't just a hole; it was nothing—an absence that was hungry, waiting.
The wrongness of it pressed against his mind, a weight that made every second of exposure feel like an eternity. Even in frozen time, he could feel the creature's presence clawing at the edges of his sanity. His head pounded, his vision blurred, and blood dripped from his nose as the air around him seemed to warp. His breath became ragged, even though everything stood still. He was just looking at it—but the very act of looking was hurting him.
He had to focus. He couldn't let it break him.
Time: 60/1100
His mind snapped back to the task at hand, though the creature's form lingered in the corner of his thoughts. He had to move fast. He couldn't afford to waste any more time.
Shit, how long was I staring at that thing?
Xander took a breath, steadying himself. It had been too long, too much. But his efforts had paid off. He remembered—through the haze of his disorientation—the glowing crystalline core he'd spotted at the creature's base. If this creature followed the same pattern as the one he'd fought before, a single, well-placed strike to that core would seal his victory.
Xander's hand tightened on the rebar, his grip firm now. He knew what he had to do. He couldn't wait for Time Stop to end before attacking this time—he couldn't afford the risk.
Time: 5/1100
He took the opportunity to strike. His body moved faster than his mind, smashing the rebar against the core with all the remaining energy he could muster.
"Let's see how you like that," Xander muttered, pulling away from the creature just as the final seconds of Time Stop began to tick away.
The world resumed with a slow, sickening lurch. Xander's muscles screamed in protest, but he forced himself to stay on his feet. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched the creature begin to twitch and shift, trying to regenerate, to reform—but it was too late. The core was shattered. The damage was done.
Exhaustion dragged at him, his body barely able to stand, but he refused to let himself collapse—not yet.
He swiftly checked the mission panel.
[Floors searched: 1/3]
[Survivors found: 20/56]
His eyes narrowed, and a terrible realization gripped him. It still wasn't over.
A chill crawled up his spine as the shadows in the room began to distort, the flickering light casting unnatural shapes across the walls. The air thickened, the sense of something wrong hanging heavy in the atmosphere.
"I can't stay here," he whispered to himself, but the words were barely audible. His legs felt like lead, but he forced them to move, limping toward the entrance. The weight of dread hung over him, each step a painful reminder of how close he had come to losing.
Xander's mind raced, his thoughts spinning.
He'd made a grave mistake.
That wasn't the boss.