Raven had begun to believe he controlled the Level Space.
That the symbols from the ancient book made him more than human. That the entities could be bent to his will, if he was fast enough… sharp enough… ruthless enough.
But that day, Level Space decided to remind him.
Remind him who he really was.
And who held the reins here.
Level 42 was a void.
No signs. No sounds.
Only the air shifting violently between extremes absolute frost one minute, searing inferno the next.
Raven stepped forward. His left hand trembled. The symbols etched on his skin flickered, dim, uncertain.
Then he saw it at the end of the corridor.
A tall, slender figure cloaked in both smoke and frost. Its voice was heavy, yet whispering:
"A087H. Phrox Ignis. Hard Class."
The anomaly didn't attack.
It waited.
"Why aren't you moving?" Raven asked, masking fear with defiance.
"I do not strike enemies," it said. "I strike confidence."
And in a flash, the floor beneath him exploded into flame.
But it wasn't heat he felt.
It was denial.
His flesh melted, and yet he remained conscious. He couldn't pass out. He couldn't die.
He screamed.
But his voice was silent.
He tried to run, but every step brought him back to where he started.
Phrox Ignis watched in silence.
"You want to control Level Space, Raven? Then learn the first truth:
You are nothing here."
The walls turned to razor-sharp ice, mirroring his silent agony.
A freezing wind clawed at his burns, blackening nerves not yet dead.
His bones shrieked. His blood froze.
And his body collapsed.
Raven looked up. Half-blinded, half-burned, but still breathing.
"Why… won't you… just kill me?"
Phrox stepped closer.
"Because you need to understand.
Anomalies don't kill for power.
We kill to remind.
And you… have forgotten what you are."
It hurled him against the icy wall.
A crack.
His arm shattered.
His legs froze then splintered into shards beneath a single, calculated kick.
And then silence.
In the middle of that frozen, smoking ruin, Raven lay broken. Charred hands. Crushed legs. Blind eyes.
He didn't cry.
He didn't scream.
He just breathed.
The last time he'd felt like this… was when his parents vanished. When he begged for something anything to care.
But now, even the hope of answers had died.
"…If I'm meant to die," he whispered faintly, "then let Level Space devour me slowly…"
And for the first time
Raven gave up.
But Level Space didn't want his death.
It wanted his transformation.
From the remains of his shattered body, the ancient book beside him cracked open. A new page ignited.
Symbols unreadable, unearthly glowed on the ceiling.
"Those who surrender to this realm… will be reborn."
Phrox Ignis stepped back.
And bowed.
Not in defeat.
But in acknowledgment.
Level Space had spoken Raven wasn't finished.
His bones reformed, threaded with unknown sigils. Flesh regrew but no longer fully human. His eyes turned abyssal. One half of his body burned; the other froze pain rewritten into power.
He rose. Shaking. Frail.
But present.
And for the first time…
He laughed.
Not loud.
But bitter.
"…I get it now. I'm not a visitor in this world."
He looked to Phrox Ignis.
"I am part of Level Space."
The entity nodded.
"Welcome, Raven. Today, you have died."
Raven looked at his scorched hand. Then at his frozen foot.
And whispered
"Then let what's born from me… become a catastrophe."