The dust settled, but the victory felt… uneasy. Karl knelt, chest heaving, his visor flickering erratically as he surveyed the scattered remnants of the Erebion horde. The nanites along Erevos' frame hummed in residual energy, stabilizing, but something deep in the readings made Agnes' voice grow taut, serious.
"Karl… something's wrong," she murmured, the teasing lilt gone from her tone. Her voice was still smooth, but the warmth had been replaced by concern. "The residue… the remnants of the Erebion are… merging."
Karl frowned, eyes scanning the horizon. "Merging? What do you mean?"
"They're fusing," Agnes explained. "Not increasing in numbers… fewer bodies… but each one is stronger. Their adaptation rate is skyrocketing. If we don't adjust your output… it's going to get dangerous—fast."
Karl's hand instinctively moved toward the ignition dial, but hesitated. "How… how did I miss this?"
Agnes sighed softly, almost regretfully. "I… I misjudged. I thought this would be a quick fight, that teasing you and making you push the dial would be harmless. You… revved too hard, too much too soon. Your Vythra is down to forty percent."
Karl froze, the weight of it sinking in. Forty percent. That wasn't just a number—it was a limit, a warning.
"No more teasing, Karl," she said firmly. "Not for now. You need to focus, survive, and adapt. Let's stabilize your output before we push again."
He clenched his fists around the regulator, feeling the strain of the overused Vythra surging weakly through his veins. His arms, still armored in Erevos' Rider Frame, trembled slightly as the Trinity Core pulsed in careful moderation, balancing the remaining energy.
"I… got it," he said, voice low, steadying himself. "No more reckless revving."
Agnes' tone softened ever so slightly, though still serious. "Good. Because the next wave… these merged Erebion aren't just stronger. They're smarter. They'll anticipate your movements faster than before. If we waste energy now… we won't get another chance."
Karl's jaw tightened. The thrill, the teasing, the exhilaration—all of it drained by reality. He felt the weight of strategy pressing down on him, the responsibility of surviving this next stage with what little Vythra he had left.
"Understood," he muttered. "We'll do this… smart. We adapt, we survive, we take them down."
"Exactly," Agnes said, calm but resolute. "No games. No teasing. Just… you, me, and your Vythra. Let's see how smart you really are, Karl."
The glow of the Trinity Core dimmed slightly, balancing energy, preparing him for the fight to come. Outside the shattered Times Square, the shadows of the newly merged Erebion loomed — fewer in number, but radiating a palpable, twisted intelligence.
Karl placed his hand on the ignition dial, heart racing, and revved slowly, methodically, feeling every pulse of Vythra, every nanite response, as he braced for the next confrontation.
"Ready, Agnes?" he asked, voice steady.
"Always," she replied, her voice now sharp, precise, and without a hint of teasing. "Let's finish this… carefully."
The shadows of the merged Erebion pulsed in the fractured air, their grotesque forms twisting unnaturally as they advanced toward Karl. The horde, though smaller in number, radiated a deadly intelligence — each step calculated, each movement a reaction to Karl's previous attacks.
Agnes' voice cut through the tension, calm but urgent. "Karl… we have one chance. One. If we fail… we risk losing control completely."
Karl tightened his grip on the ignition dial, eyes narrowing. "Understood… one chance."
"Good," Agnes said, her tone softening, teasing just enough to make Karl's chest tighten. "Now, revert to your Rider Frame. That form uses less Vythra. You're already running low, and we need every ounce of energy conserved."
Karl hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "Rider Frame… got it."
Agnes added, almost whispering: "Press the USB port… three times. But gently, Karl… it… it makes me feel… things... that I shouldn't." her voice barely above a quiet whisper.
His fingers hovered, then pressed the port once, slowly. A pulse of cobalt and cerulean light surged up his arms, through the Trinity Core, into Erevos' internal nanites. The second press made the armor panels ripple and detach slightly, exposing the faint silhouette of another, unseen form beneath.
Karl's heart raced as he pressed the third time. A tremendous wave of energy erupted through him. His Rider Frame armor peeled back, piece by piece, floating around him for a brief heartbeat before reintegrating in a new configuration.
Every movement he made sent shivers of Vythra surging through his veins. The Trinity Core blazed in synchronized rhythm — cobalt, cerulean, and admiral lights pulsing in perfect harmony. The energy was intoxicating, overwhelming, but precise — each nanite responding to his will.
Agnes' voice returned, smooth and teasing once more, but with unshakable intensity. "Are… you… ready~!!"
Karl's eyes glinted with resolve. "Hell ye!! Let's do this."
The horde of merged Erebion hesitated for just a fraction of a second — the air itself seeming to recognize the sudden surge of power radiating from him. Every muscle, every fiber of his being, and every nanite in Erevos waited in perfect synchrony, primed for the first strike.
Karl inhaled deeply, letting the energy course through him, the USB-linked Trinity Core humming like a living heartbeat. The city around him — broken, abandoned, and silent — became the arena.
And in that charged moment, with Agnes' teasing lilt still echoing in his ears, he knew: there was no turning back. The battle began now.