The Pyramid shook under the force of ancient wrath, its foundations groaning as the Council of Immortals unleashed the full extent of their power. Time twisted in chaotic bursts, with fragments of lost eras and unborn futures colliding in the sanctum. Alastor stood at the center of the storm, the Eye of Ra blazing in his hand, his mind brimming with every moment he had lived, died, and learned.

  He faced twelve immortal assassins, each one the embodiment of lifetimes spent mastering the loop. Their forms shifted in and out of reality—flickering between versions of themselves, young and old, masked and bare, dead and alive. Every one of their attacks carried the weight of centuries, and their movements bent the fabric of space and time with impossible speed.

  But Alastor was ready. He had not just lived the loop—he had mastered it.

  The first immortal struck, a towering figure draped in golden robes, his scythe slashing through the air with terrifying precision. The Codex whispered to Alastor, showing him the path forward—a ripple of time in which the blade missed by a fraction of a second. Alastor twisted through that ripple, dodging the attack as if he had lived this moment a thousand times before.

  With the Eye of Ra thrumming in his palm, he summoned a burst of golden energy, slowing the assassin’s movements to a crawl. Time folded in on itself, and Alastor drove his fist into the immortal’s chest, shattering his form into a cloud of dust that twisted back into the void.

  But the rest of the Council was already upon him.

  Two immortals attacked in perfect synchrony—one wielding a dagger made of pure shadow, the other launching a wave of golden fire that bent the space around it. Alastor rewound the moment mid-step, dodging the fire a heartbeat before it could consume him.

  He saw Selene’s blade clash with another immortal’s, sparks flying as she fought at his side. She was fast—**faster than she had ever been—**but even she was struggling to keep up with the Council’s relentless assault.

  Aurora moved through the battle like a ghost, her neural interface glowing as she hacked into the flow of time itself, twisting timelines in her favor. "You wanted chaos, Creed?" she shouted through gritted teeth, her grin wild as she fought. "Well, now you’ve got it!"

  Alastor’s focus sharpened. This wasn’t just a fight—it was a war of timelines. Every step, every movement existed across multiple realities, each action branching into infinite outcomes. If he faltered for even a second, the Council would overwhelm him.

  But he wasn’t fighting alone. He had the Codex. He had the Eye. He had every lesson the loop had taught him.

  Another immortal lunged, a woman with hollow eyes and a blade that dripped with poison from countless eras. She struck for his throat—but Alastor was already moving. He slipped between moments, phasing through time itself to reappear behind her. With a pulse of energy from the Eye, he unraveled her timeline, reducing her to dust.

  Time screamed around him, every fracture in the loop growing wider as the battle raged. The sanctum groaned beneath the weight of so many collapsing realities, the very air thick with the presence of gods and monsters.

  The leader of the Council stepped forward, his eyes burning with rage. He raised his hand, summoning the full might of the loop, and the entire chamber folded in on itself.

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  Reality twisted, space shattered. Alastor found himself standing in the ruins of ancient Egypt for a brief second, then on the broken streets of Skylance, then in a dead future where only ruins remained. The fight spilled across centuries, every moment bleeding into the next.

  The Council leader roared, his voice thunderous as he summoned the forces of death and rebirth. "You defy us, Creed! We are the masters of time! You are nothing!"

  Alastor’s expression hardened. "Then I’ll be nothing."

  He channeled the full power of the Eye, wrapping himself in golden energy, and launched himself at the Council leader. Their blades met in a cataclysmic clash—an explosion of light and darkness that tore through the chamber.

  The very fabric of time trembled beneath the force of their battle. Every second fractured, replayed, rewound, and split into endless variations, all playing out at once. Alastor fought across every timeline simultaneously, weaving through the storm of moments with the precision only the loop had taught him.

  He dodged a scythe in one reality, blocked a dagger in another, and struck down an immortal in a third—all in the same breath. His mastery over time was near absolute, each movement fueled by the Eye’s ancient magic and the knowledge embedded deep in the Codex.

  The Council’s fury grew. One by one, the immortals fell, their forms dissolving into ash, their souls unraveling into the void. But the leader remained—strong, unyielding, his power drawn from the deepest wells of the loop.

  "You will fail," the leader snarled, his voice cold as the grave. "You cannot destroy what we are. We are eternal."

  Alastor’s gaze burned with determination. "Nothing is eternal."

  He surged forward, the Eye of Ra blazing brighter than the sun, and drove his blade into the Council leader’s chest. The immortal staggered, his eyes wide with shock as time itself began to unravel around him.

  Golden light erupted from the wound, spreading through the leader’s body and into the chamber walls. The Pyramid trembled, its ancient magic splintering under the force of Alastor’s strike.

  The Council leader staggered, snarling through his final moments. "You think you’ve won?" he hissed, his body cracking like broken glass. "The loop will devour you, Creed. There’s no victory here—only oblivion."

  But Alastor didn’t flinch. "Then let it."

  He twisted the Eye’s energy deeper, shattering the last remnants of the leader’s existence. Golden cracks spidered across the walls of the Pyramid, spilling light into every crevice. The leader disintegrated into dust, his scream swallowed by the storm of collapsing timelines.

  The ground shook violently, and the entire Pyramid groaned as though it were alive—crumbling under the force of Alastor’s will. He could feel the energy of the loop ripping free, no longer bound by the Council’s ancient magic. The loop’s grip was weakening.

  But the battle wasn’t just against the Council—it was against the very nature of time itself.

  Alastor stumbled, every muscle burning with the effort of holding the timelines together. The world fractured and twisted around him, moments flickering between life, death, and rebirth, all converging in one chaotic storm.

  Selene fought her way through the falling debris, shouting, "**Alastor! This place won’t hold much longer—**we have to end this!"

  Alastor knew she was right. He had won the battle against the gods, but the Pyramid wasn’t just going to crumble quietly. Its destruction would ripple through every timeline, taking everything with it.

  He had one final chance.

  Summoning every ounce of strength, Alastor raised the Eye of Ra, focusing all the energy into a single, desperate act. The Codex whispered the answer in his mind—the way to break the loop forever. He could feel the knowledge burn into his soul, a moment of pure clarity that had taken lifetimes to reach.

  With a final roar, he released the Eye’s power, sending a shockwave through the heart of the Pyramid.

  Time bent, twisted, and shattered.

  The walls of the Pyramid collapsed, crumbling into golden dust that blew away into the void. The very essence of the loop unraveled, and for the first time in centuries, time flowed free.