The Lost Corridor pulsed with golden light as Daniel conducted with renewed fury. Recovery Unlimited kept his body and mind in perfect condition, restoring him instantly no matter how much damage Argos inflicted. The golden baton moved in sharp, precise arcs, weaving the Symphony of Dominion into a storm of reality-altering notes.
But Argos did not flinch.
Its thousands of eyes — human, alien, cosmic — all glowed with cold, perfect certainty.
"I already know every possibility," the All-Watcher spoke, its layered voice echoing from every direction at once. "I have seen this exact sequence 12,847 times. I have seen every variation of your Symphony. I have seen every future where you try to use the Immortal Beam. I have seen every angle of attack your Soul Command legion can take."
Argos flicked one massive finger.
A single, casual motion.
And the golden notes of the Symphony of Dominion began to unravel mid-air. The reality rewrite Daniel had attempted simply… ceased to exist. Argos had already observed and discarded every future where that particular command succeeded.
"You cannot surprise me, Conductor," Argos continued calmly. "I have already lived through this battle in every possible timeline. I know the exact moment your grip on the baton will slip. I know when your confidence will crack. I know the precise second you will attempt to use Recovery Unlimited to its fullest — and I know exactly how to counter it."
Daniel pressed forward, swinging the baton in a descending arc while commanding his legion of souls to strike from all sides.
Argos didn't even move.
It simply observed.
In that single instant, every possible future where the souls overwhelmed it was pruned away. The legion's coordinated assault faltered and broke apart as if hitting an invisible wall. Some souls froze mid-charge. Others turned on each other, their actions dictated by futures Argos had already seen and rejected.
Daniel tried again — this time channeling Pestilence Type 3 through the Symphony, aiming to erode Argos's conceptual existence.
Argos's thousands of eyes narrowed.
"I have seen this attack fail 3,291 times," it said. "It will not work."
With another flick of its finger, the violet-black lightning of Pestilence Type 3 dissipated harmlessly before it could even reach the creature's skin.
Daniel's breathing remained steady thanks to Recovery Unlimited, but his expression darkened.
Argos took one slow step forward, its multi-eyed body towering over him.
"You are fighting against perfect foresight. Every move you make, I have already countered in a thousand futures. Every strategy you devise, I have already dismantled before you even think of it. You are not battling me, Conductor. You are battling every version of this fight that has already happened."
The creature's voice dropped to a whisper that somehow filled the entire chamber.
"I see the future where you win. It exists. It is that tiny 0.01% sliver of possibility. But to reach it… you would have to do something so unpredictable, so self-destructive, that even I cannot see it clearly."
Argos spread its arms wide, revealing even more eyes hidden beneath layers of shifting flesh.
"So tell me, Daniel Voss… will you keep fighting a battle I have already won in nearly every timeline? Or will you finally accept the inevitable?"
Daniel gripped the golden baton tighter, blood from his earlier rampage still faintly staining his cheeks.
Recovery Unlimited kept him alive and restored.
But Argos already knew every possibility.
Every attack.
Every counter.
Every desperate gamble.
The Conductor stood against the All-Watcher — a being that had already seen the ending of this fight countless times.
And yet Daniel refused to lower the baton.
The battle continued.
But for the first time, even with Recovery Unlimited active, Daniel felt the crushing weight of fighting against perfect, absolute foresight.
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**End of Chapter 57**