Gibson (Real)
"No…"
Gibson staggered to his feet.
Shaking.
Barely holding himself together.
"You don't get to decide that," he whispered.
The space around him pulsed.
Watching.
"You are already fading," the presence replied calmly.
Gibson looked at his hands.
They flickered.
Faint.
Like a signal losing strength.
"I'm not done," he said.
No response.
Good.
That meant it wasn't expecting resistance.
Gibson clenched his fists.
"If you can replace me…"
He looked up.
Eyes burning now.
"Then that means you need something from me."
Silence.
A shift.
The Presence
…Interesting.
Gibson
He stepped forward.
The ground cracked beneath him—
but he didn't stop.
"You're not as powerful as you sound," Gibson said, stronger now.
"You're careful."
The light beneath the cracks flared.
"You observe first."
Another step.
"You copy."
Another.
"You replace."
He laughed weakly.
"That's not power."
He looked straight into the darkness.
"That's dependence."
For the first time—
the world reacted violently.
The ground split wider.
The sky cracked.
The light surged.
The Presence
"Stop."
Gibson
He smiled.
For the first time since this began.
"No."
The cracks beneath him pulsed faster now—
unstable.
"If I'm the doorway…"
His voice trembled—but held.
"Then I can close it."