The arena's light faded, replaced by an oppressive darkness as Alastor stepped deeper into the heart of the Pyramid’s sanctum. For a moment, he felt like he was falling—untethered from time and space, as if the loop itself were unraveling beneath his feet. Then, the world snapped into focus, and he found himself standing before the Council of the Pyramid.

  The chamber was vast and circular, lit by ancient torches that flickered with unnatural flame. Twelve figures sat on thrones carved from obsidian and gold, their faces shrouded in shadow, their bodies wrapped in robes that seemed to shimmer with symbols from countless lifetimes. They radiated a power that felt older than civilization itself—immortals who had transcended life and death.

  These were the masters of the Assassination Pyramid, beings who had controlled the fate of the world from the shadows for millennia. Each of them had lived through countless loops, slain kings, and built empires, only to watch them crumble under their control. They were the architects of the eternal cycle, the ones who had bound existence to the rules of life, death, and rebirth—and now, they stood between Alastor and the future he was trying to create.

  The Council watched him with cold, emotionless eyes—as if they were peering through his soul, measuring his every thought, every ambition. Time seemed to warp under their gaze, folding and stretching in strange ways. Here, in the Council’s presence, Alastor felt the weight of centuries press down on him.

  The leader of the Council leaned forward, his voice smooth and deep, each word heavy with ancient authority. "We have been watching you, Creed," he said. "We know what you have become."

  Alastor straightened his posture, his hand tightening around the Eye of Ra. "Then you know why I’m here."

  The other council members shifted slightly, murmuring in a low chorus that sounded like whispers from a thousand forgotten lifetimes.

  "Yes," the leader continued, his voice carrying the finality of a death sentence. "You have the relic, but you have not yet claimed your place. The loop has prepared you for this moment, and now you stand at the crossroads."

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  Another council member, a woman whose eyes gleamed with pale fire, leaned forward, studying Alastor with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. "You carry the Codex," she said, her voice slithering through the air like smoke. "But the Codex alone will not save you. The rules of the game are ours to shape."

  Alastor’s heart pounded, but he kept his face neutral. These were not people he could intimidate. They had lived and died more times than he could count, each death only sharpening their control over the loop. They weren’t offering him a choice out of mercy—they were offering him a warning.

  The leader gestured toward the glowing relic in Alastor’s hand. "You possess the Eye of Ra, the greatest of the Pyramid’s treasures. You have passed trials that few survive. And now, we offer you a place among us."

  The other council members leaned in, their voices blending into a low hum—a chorus of immortal ambition. "Join us," they whispered. "Sit at the apex of the Pyramid, where gods are born. Rule over life and death, as we do."

  For a moment, the temptation was overwhelming. Alastor saw himself seated among them, wielding the power of the loop at will—a god of time and consequence. Every death, every betrayal, every sacrifice he had made could lead to this moment. He could have it all.

  But beneath the surface of their offer, he saw the truth: Joining them meant becoming part of the very thing he had sworn to destroy. If he accepted, he would never leave the loop. He would rule, yes—but as a prisoner, trapped in the same endless cycle as the Council, bound by the rules they had written.

  Selene’s words echoed in his mind: "If we hesitate, we lose."

  The leader leaned closer, his shadow stretching long across the chamber floor. "There is no escape from the loop, Creed. You know this. You have lived it." His eyes glinted with cold finality. "But there is power in surrender. A seat among us—immortality beyond your imagining."

  The murmurs of the other council members grew louder, their voices pressing in from every direction. "Join us, or face the end. There is no third path."

  Alastor’s jaw tightened, his mind racing. They were offering him everything—immortality, power, control. But the cost was his soul, his freedom, and the chance to break the loop once and for all.

  The leader’s gaze darkened, his voice turning sharp and deliberate. "To defy the Pyramid is to defy time itself. Refuse us, and you will not only die—you will be erased. Your existence will unravel, every version of you wiped from the threads of history."

  The other council members leaned closer, their eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Join us," they whispered in unison, their voices like the tolling of a funeral bell. "Or be erased from time itself."