Ex rank talent Awakening: 100\% Dodge rate-Chapter 151 - : LOSING EVERYTHING

Kyle felt his view of the world shift violently. His sense of self, his emotions—everything was unraveling. It was suffocating. It almost felt as if the universe itself had chosen to side with Greg. How could one man possess such unreasonable talent and unmatched skills? No matter how much Kyle pushed himself, no matter how far he climbed, Greg always seemed one step ahead—just out of reach.

He couldn't fathom how Greg's will manifestation had destroyed his own so effortlessly, like it was nothing more than a fragile sheet of paper torn apart by a passing breeze. One moment, Kyle was in his inner world—his domain, his battlefield—and the next, he was forcibly thrown into Greg's. A realm he neither understood nor welcomed.

As he looked around, dread settled deep into his bones. Greg's inner world was smaller than his—barely half the size—but the oppressive pressure that blanketed everything was unlike anything he had ever felt. It sent a cold shiver crawling down his spine, each breath feeling like a silent scream.

The world was pitch black. A void without shape or form. The only thing it resembled was the darkness he once witnessed when meeting the ancient demon—but even that darkness paled in comparison to this abyss. It felt infinite and unknowable, like Greg's very soul had become one with the cosmos. There was no ground beneath Kyle's feet, and yet he stood. His brain refused to register it. The space around and beneath him carried no difference; there was no orientation, no up or down—only the same dreadful, overwhelming sensation pressing in from all directions.

Then, at last, he saw it—a light. Faint at first, but growing in intensity. It wasn't like ordinary light. Its source was incomprehensible, too complex for his senses to grasp. Slowly, the figure of an astral being took form before him, colossal beyond measure. It towered over him like a god.

The astral figure resembled Greg—yet it was something far more. Its legs stretched impossibly deep into the abyss, disappearing into infinity below. Kyle tried to look down, to find the figure's feet, but the effort made him dizzy. Its head rose so high into the void that Kyle's neck ached just from trying to look up.

The being's hair flowed endlessly, cascading down to its legs like a waterfall of midnight silk. One eye shimmered with black and red inscriptions swirling in the iris, while the other blazed with blue and white. Six magnificent wings unfurled from its back—each one representing a different power. A demon's wing, an angel's, a dragon's, a phoenix's, an eagle's, and the last—a wing of pure energy, colorless yet blinding, made of concentrated essence.

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The figure was beautiful in an eerie, divine way—its symmetry, perfection, and power so absolute that Kyle instinctively felt the urge to kneel and worship. He fought the impulse, but only barely.

Greg had entered his inner world again, the same place he had seen in that strange vision of two figures. Now, standing before this astral giant that seemed to embody both those beings, Greg felt a mysterious connection to it. He couldn't explain why, but it felt familiar—like meeting a version of himself that had always been waiting within.

Here, in his own inner world, Greg felt omnipotent. No one could harm him here. No one could defeat him. Kyle—once the powerful, arrogant foe—was now nothing more than an insect in Greg's eyes.

[The concept DEATH pays homage to its master.]

A monotone voice echoed in Greg's mind. He nodded without question. Strangely, it felt natural—expected, even. He didn't know that he was the only being in the universe to ever receive such reverence from a concept itself.

Greg remained still for a while, as if meditating within the vast silence of his world. He felt at home here. Neither Kyle nor his concept dared to move, both frozen as if waiting for judgment. Greg looked like a cosmic judge, quietly weighing the guilt of the one before him.

After a long moment, Greg's eyes opened. His gaze pierced through Kyle like a dagger. Kyle's instincts screamed at him to run—to escape by any means necessary. But as he tried to move, panic overtook him. His body wouldn't respond. He was pinned, paralyzed, a prisoner of Greg's will.

"This is it for you, Kyle," Greg said calmly, passing down his verdict.

[The concept DEATH marks Kyle for death!]

[The concept DEATH wishes to strip Kyle of all his abilities!]

"No! No!" Kyle shouted, his voice trembling with desperation. He struggled violently, pouring all his strength into moving even a single step—but it was futile. He couldn't move an inch.

"Stop!!!" he screamed, as a terrifying sensation took hold of him. His abilities—everything he had ever worked for—were being ripped away from him. He tried to hold onto them, clutch them with all his might, but it was like trying to catch water with his bare hands. The powers abandoned him like they were never his to begin with.

[You have been stripped of your manifested will!]

The color drained from Kyle's face. Reality hit him like a sledgehammer—he was truly losing everything. A flood of regret surged through him. The world felt unfair, like it had singled him out to suffer.

[You have been stripped of your stats.]

His body weakened instantly. The strength that once made him a force to be reckoned with vanished, reducing him to the powerless state of a mere human.

[You have been stripped of your bloodline—The Sin of Wrath!]

A deep, violent pain struck his soul. The bond with the ancient demon—his very identity—was severed. What he didn't know was that his downfall wasn't his alone; the bloodline being forcefully removed had destroyed the ancient demon itself.

[You have been stripped of your skills!]

The message was merciless. Kyle could no longer feel even the most basic of his skills. Everything he relied on—gone.

[You have been stripped of your talent.]

The final blow. The last nail in the coffin.

Kyle fell into a state of utter despair. His mind broke beneath the weight of his loss. He had nothing. Everything he had built, all he had taken pride in—stripped away. There was no worse fate. It was like being stripped naked in front of the world's eyes, but the humiliation was nothing compared to the agony. His soul had been shredded piece by piece.

Greg watched Kyle's hollow expression—the look of a man who had lost all hope—and felt grim satisfaction.

"I told you, Kyle, didn't I?" Greg said, his voice like cold steel. "That I would take everything from you."