"All clones. Assemble."

Sunny's voice wasn't loud, but it carried the weight of absolute authority. Before the echo of his order had even faded, the shadows around the throne twisted and enlarged.

Swish. Swish. Swish.

Eleven figures stepped out of the nothingness. They were identical to Sunny in height and build, clad in the same cosmic robe, their faces hidden behind identical cosmic masks.

These were the Soulless Clones.

Unlike the sixteen Soul Clones who were currently ravaging the outer multiverse and expanding the empire, these eleven were empty vessels.

They possessed no independent will, no ambition and no soul to lose. They were extensions of Sunny's own consciousness. Puppets that will follow every order that Sunny gives them.

Sunny looked down at his legion of selves.

"You should already be aware of the auction and the trap I have laid to catch the rats," Sunny said, though he didn't really need to speak.

Since they shared his mind, they knew his thoughts instantly. But speaking aloud helped solidify the intent.

He could have handled this personally. He could have walked into the auction house and crushed the spies with a flick of his wrist.

But should an Emperor chase rats in the basement?

The answer was a resounding no.

"We are dealing with entities hiding in the Deep spatial Layer," Sunny explained, his finger tracing the armrest of his throne. "To steal an artifact, they must exit that layer. They must become tangible. That is the moment they are vulnerable."

He pointed to the clones.

"Each one of you is assigned to protect one SSS-Grade Artifact. You will hide in the shadows of these artifacts and wait."

His gaze landed on the eleventh clone.

"And you... you will also guard Item Number 4. The Cloak of Shadows. These spies will surely crave the tool that hides them best. That is where the rat will strike."

"Go on, now," Sunny ordered.

The eleven clones didn't speak. They nodded and simply dissolved into mist, teleporting instantly to their designated ambush points.

Using eleven clones to catch a handful of spies seemed like overkill to the extreme.

It was like using a nuclear warhead to kill a mosquito. But Sunny didn't believe in fair fights. He believed in absolute certainty.

Besides, the trap had layers.

Sunny leaned back, an amused smile playing on his lips beneath the mask.

"Even if they somehow bypass the clones... even if they possess a speed that defies time itself and manage to grab the artifacts..."

He chuckled.

The artifacts on display were just fakes. They looked like SSS-Grade treasures. They smelled like SSS-Grade treasures. But in reality? They were SS-Grade artifacts.

They were bombs.

Sunny had manifested them for this purpose only. The moment someone disconnected them from the display stand without Sunny's permission, the artifact would shatter.

"Boom," Sunny whispered, mimicking an explosion with his hands.

The resulting blast would be potent enough to blow a lesser God (God of Faith) into atoms and severely injure even a High God (God of Laws).

"The plan is foolproof," Sunny mused. "If they steal, they die. If they don't steal, they reveal themselves, and the clones kill them."

He closed his eyes, tapping into the vision of the eleventh clone.

"I hope you succeed in stealing it, little rat. I truly want to see the fireworks."

The Eastern District: The Grand Auction House.

The structure was a marvel of architecture, a dome of white marble and gold that seemed to float slightly above the ground.

Even before the event started, the aura of wealth radiating from it was suffocating.

Hiding in the dimensional fold of the Pearl of Calamity, Vorr drifted through the massive doors.

He was mesmerized. The interior was a cavern of luxury. Floating platforms served as VIP boxes, and the air was perfumed with crushed spirit stones of multiple elements.

"Focus," Vorr hissed to himself, shaking his head. "Don't get distracted by the building; focus on the artifacts."

He phased through the walls like a ghost, bypassing the security of the building that would have incinerated a normal intruder. He drifted straight into the Main Hall.

But the main hall was empty. The stage was bare.

"What?" Vorr whispered, panic spiking in his chest. "Was it a lie? Is there no auction?"

His greed warred with his fear. Had he walked into a trap?

Just then, his ears twitched. He heard voices coming from a secured corridor behind the stage.

"...careful with that! That is the Star-Splitter Axe! If you drop it, you'll cleave the auction house in half!"

Vorr moved toward the sound. He found a heavy vault door guarded by two SSS-Grade Golems. He floated right through the metal.

Inside, he found a staging room.

A Demigod dressed in the impeccable uniform of a butler was instructing ten maids. Each maid stood next to a pedestal covered in red silk.

"These are the Master's personal treasures," the butler said, his voice calm but stern. "They are stored here until the auction begins. When the Gods take their seats, and only when the signal is given, you will carry them to the stage."

The maids nodded in unison. They were efficient, silent, and radiating power; they were the Demigods created by Sunny specifically for administration.

"Ohh..." Vorr whispered, a shiver of delight running down his spine. He licked his lips. "So my future is sitting right there."

He floated closer. He could feel the power radiating from beneath the silk cloths. Ten items. Ten tickets to becoming a King.

He ignored the others and went straight for the fourth pedestal.

Item Number 4: The Cloak of Shadows.

He could almost taste it. With that cloak, he wouldn't need to hide in this cursed pearl. He wouldn't need to bow to Kairos. He wouldn't need to fear Lom. He would become the ultimate predator.

"It's mine," Vorr breathed.

He reached out. His hand, shrouded in the darkness of the pearl, extended toward the red silk.

He intended to grab the cloth, rip it away, snatch the artifact, and retreat into the hidden layers before anyone blinked.

He reached.

And his hand passed straight through the silk.

It passed through the artifact. It passed through the pedestal.

Vorr stumbled forward, his momentum carrying him through the object he tried to grab.

"What?!"

He stared at his hand. He turned around and tried again. He grabbed at the pedestal. His fingers misted through the stone like smoke.

"Why... why can't I touch it?"

A cold realization washed over him, shattering his greed instantly.

He remembered the journey. Since they arrived in the City of Gods, they hadn't touched the ground. They hadn't opened a door. They hadn't felt the wind. They had simply existed in a separate layer of reality.

"Does this mean..." Vorr's eyes widened in horror. "Does this mean.... I can't touch anything?"

The Pearl of Calamity.

He looked at the miniature black sphere floating in his chest. All this time, he thought the Pearl was a tool. A suit of armor.

He was wrong. It was a cage.

Lom controlled the Pearl. Lom had given them permission to move the artifact, to use it for travel and hiding.

But he had never given them permission to interact with the world.

"I can't take them," Vorr whimpered. "I can't steal anything."

His dreams of godhood, of rebellion, of wealth... they all crumbled into dust. He was nothing but a spy for a Demon God.

"No," Vorr growled.

The fear in his heart was replaced by a sudden fury.

"I refuse! I refuse this! I will not be a pawn forever!"

He looked at the artifact. It was right there. Millimeters away. If he could just become tangible for one second... just one second...

"I need to break the shell," Vorr decided.

He focused his energy. He was a God of Storms, albeit a minor one. He channeled his Faith into his hand.

WHOOSH.

A miniature tornado formed in his palm. It spun with the force of a hurricane, condensed into the size of a marble.

"Break!" Vorr screamed silently.

He slammed the tornado into the miniature pearl of Calamity in his hands.

CLINK.

The sound was pathetic. It sounded like a pebble hitting a mountain.

The Pearl of Calamity was an artifact crafted by a Demon Lord. It was designed to withstand the crushing pressures of the hidden layers while protecting the Gods inside it. Vorr's attack barely scratched the surface.

"Again!" Vorr roared, his eyes bloodshot.

He struck it again. And again. And again.

Smash. Smash. Smash.

With every strike, he burned through his own Faith reserves.

100 Faith. 1,000 Faith. 10,000 Faith.

He was literally burning his life savings, his power, his very essence to break out of his protective shell.

It was a suicidal plan. Even if he broke the Pearl, he would instantly become visible to everyone. He would be standing in a vault surrounded by ten Demigod maids and a butler.

And unbeknownst to him, he would also be standing in front of Eleven SSS-Grade Clones of the Emperor, who were currently watching his invisible, frantic struggle with amusement using the God's eyes.... Eyes that could pierce anything, be it the hidden layers of space.

But Vorr didn't know that. He was blinded by his situation. He had come too far to leave empty-handed.

"Break, you damn thing!"

He struck it for the hundredth time.

CRACK.

A hairline fracture appeared on the surface of the black sphere.

Vorr gasped, his chest heaving. He was exhausted. He had spent nearly all his savings. But he saw it, the core of the Pearl. It glowed with a malevolent red light, like lava trapped in obsidian.

"One more," Vorr whispered, summoning the last remaining drops of his power. "One more hit, and I am free."

He formed a final, jagged lance of wind. He raised it high.

"For my freedom!"

He drove the lance into the crack.

SHATTER.

The sound was deafening in the spiritual realm. The miniature pearl in his hand disintegrated.

The darkness that shrouded him... evaporated.

Vorr stood there, blinking in the sudden brightness of the vault. He felt the cold air on his skin. He felt the solid floor beneath his feet. He was tangible. He was real.

He looked at the Butler. The Butler looked at him.

He looked at the maids. The maids looked at him.

And from the shadows in the corner of the room, Eleven Pairs of Eyes opened simultaneously.

Vorr didn't notice the eyes in the shadows yet. He only saw the prize.

"Mine!" he shrieked, lunging for the red silk cloth covering Item Number 4.

He didn't know he was grabbing a bomb. He didn't know he was surrounded by monsters. He only knew he had finally touched something real.

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