The Architect's core crumbled around him, its cathedral of code collapsing like a cathedral set ablaze. Lightning storms of data surged around Darius, his digital form flickering between molten shadows and blinding light. The corrupted world beneath his feet trembled, a swirling abyss threatening to consume everything—including himself.
But he stood unmoving, breathing slowly despite no longer having lungs. He had transcended such things.
"You were never meant to win," The Architect's voice echoed, distorted, fractured. "My failure means the annihilation of both worlds."
"Then I'll do what you never could," Darius growled. "I will become both."
He raised his hand, threads of code weaving into his fingers like living tendrils. The Architect's final failsafe—the collapse of all digital infrastructure—was already unraveling the fragile barriers between the physical and virtual world. Cities glitched. Skies flickered like corrupted screens. Time itself bent erratically.
