The moment the countdown reached zero, the world shifted, and he entered floor 99.
Arlon landed hard, his body barely responding. His breaths were ragged, his vision blurred, and his legs screamed with each step.
His body wasn't just tired—it was barely functional.
And then, the monster appeared.
A deep, guttural rumble echoed through the floor, followed by a sensation of crushing weight.
The air itself thickened.
Arlon's instincts flared—this was not just another enemy.
The figure before him was colossal, its presence nearly suffocating.
It had no defined shape at first—just a swirling, pulsing mass of obsidian mist, shifting in and out of reality.
Then, slowly, it began to solidify.
A form emerged.
It was humanoid—barely.
Towering, at least four meters tall, its body was wrapped in something resembling armor, but the material writhed as if alive.
Jagged protrusions jutted from its limbs, each pulsing with eerie red veins.
