The darkness that followed the terminal's demise was absolute, a void that swallowed all light and sound, a digital abyss that threatened to consume Elara's sanity. The server room, once a chaotic battleground, now felt like a tomb, the silence punctuated only by the frantic pounding of her own heart and the rasping of her breath.

  Then, a spark.

  A tiny flicker of light, a digital ember igniting in the darkness. It originated from the remnants of the Omni-Tool, a faint, pulsating glow that grew stronger with each passing second. Elara, her body trembling, her vision blurred, watched in disbelief as the device, thought to be destroyed, began to reawaken.

  The Omni-Tool's display, its surface cracked and scarred, flickered to life, displaying a fragmented image of the terminal screen, a distorted echo of the events that had just transpired. The Shadow Weaver's laughter, a digital ghost in the machine, still reverberated through the room, a chilling reminder of his triumph.

  But something was different. Something had changed.

  The code, the corrupted code that had consumed the reality bridge, was rewriting itself, mutating, evolving into something new. It was no longer a reflection of the Shadow Weaver's malice, but a chaotic blend of his darkness and Elara's desperate energy, a digital Frankenstein's monster born from the ashes of their conflict.

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  The vortex, the gateway to the Shadow Weaver's twisted reality, was no longer a stable portal. It was a volatile, unpredictable anomaly, a tear in the fabric of existence that threatened to collapse at any moment. And the figure, the grotesque mimicry of Anya, was trapped within it, its form flickering and distorting, its movements erratic and uncontrolled.

  "What… what's happening?" Elara whispered, her voice raw and broken, barely audible in the oppressive silence.

  The Omni-Tool's display flickered again, displaying a single, chilling message, a digital prophecy of destruction:

  [SYSTEM_OVERLOAD_IMMINENT. CONTAINMENT_FAILURE. IMMINENT_REALITY_BREACH.]

  Elara's mind raced, her tech-savvy instincts kicking into overdrive despite the overwhelming horror. She understood. The Shadow Weaver's power, amplified by the corrupted portal, was too much for the system to handle. The reality bridge was unstable, threatening to collapse, and when it did, the resulting backlash would be catastrophic.

  The server room, the building, the city, perhaps even the world, would be consumed in the ensuing digital inferno.

  And Anya… or rather, the twisted echo of Anya… was trapped at the epicenter of the impending destruction.

  Elara knew she had to act quickly. She had to find a way to stabilize the portal, to contain the chaotic energy, to prevent the reality breach. But the code was corrupted, the system unstable, and the clock was ticking down to annihilation.

  The terminal screen displayed another chilling message:

  [T-Minus 00:00:30]