The battlefield shimmered like fractured glass. Even the Outer God, colossal and eternal, trembled under the invisible current now pulsing beneath the White. It was subtle at first—a vibration in the void—but soon it became undeniable. Reality itself whispered of an intelligence far older, far more fundamental than anything the twelve had faced.
Lucien's fists clenched, White threads flowing across his body, connecting every member of the group. Kairo's temporal duplicates flickered in anticipation, while Ashveil's shadows stretched and twisted instinctively, sensing the new current. Zarynth grinned, chaos void dancing unpredictably—but now in perfect rhythm with the flow.
Veythar bent the battlefield subtly, creating slight folds in space to probe the disturbance. "It's… alive," he muttered. "Not conscious like a being… but aware. Responding."
The twelve paused, not out of fear, but calculation. They were no longer improvising—they understood their voids, their connections, and the synergy that had been unlocked by Archon.
Lucien stepped forward. "We strike together. Full coordination. Every void, every skill—synchronize with the source."
The Mirrored Six mirrored his nods, and in that instant, twelve minds and powers moved as one. Their motions were a dance of destruction and precision, a choreography honed over months of training and battles.
Even as the Outer God charged, intending to overwhelm them, it met twelve attacks blended into one seamless wave. Temporal shifts slowed its strikes, gravity bent its trajectory, chaos distorted its form, shadows lanced into undefended points, and threads bound energy flows.
For the first time, the Outer God struggled to predict them.
First Contact With the Source
Then came the shift. Beneath the White, a pulse surged—a visible current threading through space itself. It wrapped around the twelve, tugging, probing, testing their limits. Lucien felt it like a river beneath his veins, ancient, infinite, yet patient.
It recognizes you…
A voice, neither loud nor quiet, neither male nor female, filled the minds of all twelve simultaneously. It was neither Archon nor the Outer God, but something older, vast, and incomprehensible:
"Children of the White… children of eons… you are fragments of what I placed here long before the cycles began. You are the first to awaken fully in this era. You are to be tested… and if worthy, you shall wield the currents I have hidden."
Lucien's eyes narrowed. "Tested… by you?"
The current pulsed again, and they realized: it was both restraint and challenge. No direct attack, yet every motion, every thought, every strike of the twelve was being measured. The source wasn't fighting—they were being calibrated.
Understanding this, the twelve adjusted. Each void flowed into another in perfect sequence:
Lucien's White connected fate and probability, allowing the others' attacks to land with impossible precision. Kairo's temporal shifts multiplied impact, letting multiple strikes land simultaneously across space and time. Veythar's spatial manipulation warped trajectories subtly, maximizing each void's effect. Ashveil's shadows acted autonomously, filling gaps and intercepting counterattacks. Zarynth's chaos destabilized the Outer God's energy, introducing calculated anomalies. Caelthorn and Morwyn controlled gravitational fields to keep the enemy off-balance. Seliora, Eryndra, Nysera, Iralith, Vaeltherion coordinated threads, elements, psychic resonance, and kinetic projection for amplified effect.
For the first time, the twelve felt the White not only as power, but as extension of the source—a living current they could harmonize with.
As they surged forward, the Outer God stumbled, faltered—not from direct damage, but from being overwhelmed by perfect synchronization across multiple voids.
Then the source pulsed again, stronger, faster. Reality bent unnaturally, and a new figure began to manifest—larger, older, and darker than even the Outer God, emerging from the current beneath the White.
Lucien's voice cut through the tension:
"It's… beyond everything we've fought… everything we know… and it's aware of us."
The battlefield froze again. The twelve braced themselves, fully synchronized, for the first true confrontation with the source beyond the White.
And now, the game of existence begins in earnest.