Nur'Thaleth didn't move physically—it projected memories and made them corporeal. An illusory Trish, soaked in blood, charged Leon with the Infinity Sword, screaming his name. He hesitated.
The blade was real.
Leon barely blocked with his staff, Shell Reverb mitigating the kinetic feedback. Another projection followed—his former self, the one from Tier I, charging recklessly. He hesitated again.
Each hesitation became damage.
"You are slowed by your empathy," said the Masked One.
"Your fear of failing those you love will be your death."
But then—Leon grinned.
"And you're afraid I'll overcome it."
Leon dropped all his defensive posture and opened his arms, letting the illusions pierce him.
Shell Reverb activated at full flow—Tripart Echo, Karmic Loop, Absolute Return—but he did not direct it.
He absorbed it.
Let it become him.
And then—his form pulsed. Not with rage, but with crystalline clarity. The fear no longer clouded his mind.
It was data.
