The void stretched.
It wasn't movement in a physical sense—there was no flesh, no limbs, no body.
Just the weight of something vast pressing against the fabric of existence.
Ezra felt it in his bones , in the air that refused to move, in the unnatural silence that swallowed the universe whole.
And then—
It reached for him.
Not with a hand. Not with a shape.
But with presence.
With the sheer, suffocating reality of something too big to be ignored.
His vision blurred. His mind screamed.
His body— his very existence —felt like it was being rewritten, unmade, piece by piece.
Like he was never supposed to be here.
Like he was a mistake the universe had only now noticed.
"Kill it, huh?"
His other self's voice was amused , but distant—like it was coming from the other side of a breaking mirror.
"How exactly do you plan to kill a concept? "
Ezra's fingers twitched.
His dagger was still in his grip—small, insignificant, a blade that shouldn't mean anything against something like this.
But he tightened his hold anyway.
He forced a breath.
And then— he moved.
The air shattered around him, the weight of the thing pressing down, but he pushed forward, dagger in hand—
And struck.
The blade met the void—
And stopped.
Not because of resistance. Not because of force.
Because it had never been real enough to hurt something like this.
Ezra's stomach dropped.
And the whisper returned— soft, knowing, inevitable.
"You were never meant to fight me."
The air rippled .
Ezra fell.
Not physically.
But in certainty.
For the first time, he realized— he couldn't win.
Not like this.
Not by swinging a blade at something that wasn't meant to be fought.
The void yawned wide, and the thing inside it began to step through.
Ezra's breath hitched.
And his other self— still grinning, still unshaken —let out a quiet chuckle.
"Ah. So you finally get it."
Ezra turned, chest heaving. "Then what the hell do I do?"
His other self shrugged.
"Simple."
His golden eyes gleamed in the darkness.
"You don't kill it."
"You chain it again."
The presence roared.
And Ezra ran—not away, but forward.
Straight into the void.