The smirk didn't fade.
It hardened.
Because now he understood.
Not just the attack. Not just the silhouette.
Everything.
From the very start—when he was dropped into this cradle of madness, when the world around him bled illusion and shape, when breath came like knives and his thoughts fractured into survival—this had always been the point.
Every single moment had been shaped like a blade, honed to slice him open until only instinct remained.
That colossus that shattered the sky?
The invisible predators that moved like whispers across his spine?
They weren't random.
They weren't challenges.
They were pressure.
Designed to force him to the edge—not just physically, but deeper.
Mentally. Spiritually. Existentially.
He remembered now.
That exact second—when his body gave out, when his mind began to slip into some screaming, directionless dark—
That's when something clicked.
Not by choice.
By necessity.
The moment of collapse had birthed his awakening.
