The very air around them trembled, as though reality itself was caught in a violent storm. Ezra's senses were on high alert, every fiber of his being honed to the presence of the Architect—an entity whose existence was beyond the comprehension of any mortal being.
The world was cracking at the edges. The once familiar surroundings of the ruined village had completely vanished. In its place was a vast, shifting labyrinth of lights and shadows, a landscape that seemed to fold in on itself. Gravity itself seemed to waver. The ground beneath their feet was no longer solid; it flickered like a broken image on a screen.
Ezra clenched his fists. The countdown still echoed in his mind.
[Countdown to the Main Story: 135,350 Hours]
He couldn't afford to let it slip further. This wasn't just a fight for survival anymore; it was a battle for the very structure of existence itself. And the Architect was not going to let them win easily.
"You think you understand this world?" The Architect's voice boomed in their minds, reverberating with power. "You believe that you are its masters, its rulers. But you are merely puppets in a grand design. I am the hand that guides, the mind that creates. Your reality—your fate—was mine to decide."
Ezra's heart pounded, but his resolve remained unshaken. "And I'm the one who will stop you."
The Architect's form flickered again, an ever-changing blur that couldn't be pinned down. Its voice was now everywhere and nowhere at once, like a thousand whispers in his mind.
"Your defiance is admirable, but futile. You are the anomaly in this perfect design, the glitch that must be erased. And you, Ezra... are the key to the final step."
Ezra's thoughts raced. What was the Architect talking about? The key to the final step? Did it mean the countdown? Was it somehow tied to him? Or was it part of a greater game?
"You don't control me," Ezra spat, stepping forward. "I control my fate. I always have."
A ripple of energy surged through the space, and the Architect's form solidified into something far more tangible, a dark figure whose eyes burned with an otherworldly fire. It raised a hand, and the very landscape around them began to shift, twisting and morphing into a series of obstacles—disorienting mazes, shifting walls, and strange, twisted creatures.
"It's time for the final trial, Ezra," the Architect declared. "The game begins now."
As the Architect spoke, the labyrinth around them began to pulse with dark energy. The ground beneath their feet cracked, splitting open as ominous figures emerged from the shadows. These weren't mere monsters. They were reflections—shadows of their own fears, their doubts, and their failures.
"Ready yourself," Meliodas warned, his hand tightening on his sword.
Ezra's eyes flicked between his companions, who stood ready, their expressions hard. "We've been through worse. We can do this."
Suddenly, the labyrinth itself warped, the walls shifting in a cascade of unnatural movement. Before them, a monstrous version of Ezra appeared, its eyes glowing with the same energy that the Architect had exuded. This dark doppelgänger bore all the doubt, fear, and insecurities that Ezra had buried deep within himself.
It snarled, the voice that escaped its lips was a twisted mockery of his own.
"Do you really think you can save them? You're weak. You'll never have the strength to finish this. You'll fail them... just like you failed yourself."
Ezra's breath hitched for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. "No. I won't fail. Not now. Not ever."
With a roar, the doppelgänger lunged toward him. Ezra's instincts kicked in as he sidestepped and unleashed a series of attacks with his sword. His doppelgänger blocked with ease, its movements far too fluid, too perfect.
"You'll never defeat me," the figure taunted. "I am you. You're trapped in your own mind."
Ezra narrowed his eyes. "Not anymore."
In an instant, Ezra drew upon the power of his system. A surge of energy poured into him, unlocking the latent potential he had buried under years of doubt and fear. His character slots flickered and shifted. He felt the pull of the labyrinth and the growing tension within him. This wasn't just a battle for survival—it was a battle for his own soul.
With a final scream, Ezra pushed forward, unleashing a devastating blow that shattered his doppelgänger's form into a thousand shards. The pieces evaporated into the void, and for a moment, there was silence.
But then, the Architect's voice returned, darker and more malevolent.
"Well done. You've passed the first trial. But it's only just beginning. You see, Ezra, your fate was never in your hands. You are a creation, a tool of my design. And as long as the countdown continues, I will bend this world to my will. You cannot escape me."
Ezra stood tall, his body bruised and battered, but his spirit unbroken. "Then let's see who's stronger—your design or my will."
The countdown flickered again in his mind.
[Countdown to the Main Story: 135,340 Hours]
It was ticking. The pressure was mounting.
But Ezra knew one thing: this was no longer just a game. This was the final battle. And he would win.