A thin, needle-like beam—no thicker than a strand of hair—shot forward in absolute silence. It hit the wall instantly, boring a perfect, round violet hole straight through the Deathmist.
There was no explosion. No shockwave. Just… absence.
And then the collapse began.
The mist started folding inward, sucked into the hole like water draining into a void. The swirling black mass of Deathmist trembled, then fell quiet. Still. But no matter how hard it fought, it couldn't escape.
It was being erased.
I watched as more and more mist spiraled into the point of collapse. Even the air around it began to stretch and bend, pulled toward the beam's core.
Behind me, the Phantom shrieked in fury.
Then it did something insane.
It dove straight through Silver's tornado, ripping through the blades and winds, tearing its own body apart in the process. Mist and armor flew off in chunks.
But it didn't care.
