Liam's fist connected with the writhing shadow just as its tendrils lashed toward his mind. A cold spike of panic tried to burrow into his thoughts—images of failure, of the girls dying because he wasn't strong enough—but he shoved it aside and held the block.
A blue window flashed in his vision.
**Mental Resistance (Passive) acquired. Level 1.**
**You have resisted Shadow Corruption.**
His pulse hammered. 'Not today,' he thought, teeth clenched. Another tendril came. He met it again. The resistance ticked upward—Level 2, then 4. Each successful block chipped away at something inside the shadow beast itself. Its Health bar, barely visible at the edge of his sight, dropped in stubborn, jagged increments.
