Kael staggered back from the shattered crystal shard, chest heaving like he'd just run a marathon through hell. His wrist throbbed fiercely, the sigil glowing like it had a damn mind of its own, burning into his skin.
What the hell just happened? he thought, blinking against the afterimages flashing behind his eyelids. The Tower was messing with him, no doubt. But this wasn't some fairytale crap — it was real, and it was fucking dangerous.
He wiped a slick of sweat from his brow, tasting the metallic tang of blood in his mouth.
"Shit… this is only the beginning," he muttered under his breath.
The chamber was deathly silent, like it was holding its breath, waiting for him to screw up again. And honestly? He almost did.
Why the hell did I even reach for that thing? The shard promised power, knowledge, everything a guy like him needed after years of being laughed at. But it nearly killed him instead.
Kael clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus. The glowing runes on the walls flickered, shifting into shapes that twisted his gut — warnings? Or maybe the Tower's way of saying, Welcome to the real climb, dumbass.
He took a shaky step forward. "No turning back now," he whispered, feeling the weight of the Tower settle heavy on his shoulders.
---
A low rumble shook the chamber as distant footsteps echoed from the stairwell. Kael's muscles tensed, every nerve screaming.
"Great, just fucking great," he cursed softly. "Like I needed company."
The heavy footsteps grew louder, and a shadow detached itself from the darkness — Serin, the smug bastard who'd greeted him with a blade just hours ago.
Serin's cold eyes gleamed under his helmet. "You survived the Trial of Epochs," he said, voice smooth but laced with challenge. "Not many do."
Kael shot him a glare. "No shit, Sherlock. I'm not dead yet, am I?"
Serin chuckled darkly. "No. But surviving isn't the same as winning."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Then what the hell do you want from me?"
"To see if you have what it takes to climb higher," Serin said, stepping closer. "This Tower doesn't just test your body. It tests your mind, your spirit... your soul."
Kael felt a chill run down his spine despite the humid air. "My soul? What, like some cheesy fantasy bullshit?"
Serin's smile didn't waver. "The Tower isn't bullshit. It's the ultimate test. Fail, and you're trapped forever — or worse."
Kael swallowed hard. "And you're the expert, huh? You been climbing for how long? Decades? Centuries?"
"Longer," Serin replied, voice dropping. "But time doesn't matter here. Only the climb."
---
Kael paced the chamber, the weight of Serin's words sinking in. Trapped forever? That wasn't a future he wanted to imagine.
He looked down at the glowing sigil burning his wrist. Whatever bond he'd formed with the Tower, it was alive, and it was hungry.
'Damn it,' Kael thought. I've got to figure this out, or I'm screwed.
"Alright," Kael finally said, voice rough. "What's the next step? How do I get out of this pit and keep moving?"
Serin pointed to the staircase spiraling up beyond the gate. "The Tower only reveals what you're ready for. That door up there? The next floor waits. But the challenge won't be easier."
Kael scoffed. "Yeah, I kinda figured that."
Serin's gaze sharpened. "Then prepare yourself. You'll need more than luck."
---
Kael took a deep breath, the Tower's energy buzzing under his skin. Every step forward felt like walking into a storm, but there was no way to turn back.
"Fuck," he muttered, steeling himself. "Here goes nothing."
He climbed.
---
As he ascended, the walls seemed to close in — covered in swirling glyphs that shifted whenever he blinked. The air thickened with an almost suffocating pressure, like the Tower was watching him, waiting to judge.
Goddamn, it's like the Tower's got a damn personality. Kael thought bitterly. And it's not a friendly one.
His mind raced — what if he wasn't ready? What if the next challenge broke him?
But the only way was up. He forced one foot in front of the other, ignoring the rising panic.
---
The stairwell opened into a massive chamber bathed in cold blue light. In its center floated a translucent orb, swirling with mist and shadows.
Kael's eyes locked on it, and his pulse hit double time.
"Looks like another fun surprise," he said sarcastically, wiping sweat from his brow.
The sigil on his wrist pulsed wildly, as if warning him. Kael clenched his teeth.
'Don't be an idiot this time.'
A voice echoed from the mist — low, echoing, ancient.
"To climb, one must first understand... the price of time."
Kael grit his teeth. "Great. Riddles now."
The orb rippled, and suddenly, the chamber warped around him. He wasn't standing in a cold stone room anymore — he was somewhere else entirely.
---
Kael stumbled, catching himself against a jagged rock. Around him stretched a desolate wasteland — cracked earth, black skies, and distant fires burning on the horizon.
"This shit's gotta be a dream," Kael muttered. "Or some twisted vision."
He looked down to see his wrist glowing brighter than ever, the sigil burning like a brand.
The voice whispered again:
"Time is a curse and a gift. Choose wisely, Climber."
Kael's heart pounded. Every instinct screamed to run — but he knew better. Running wouldn't save him here.
He swallowed hard. "Alright, Tower. Let's see what you really want."
---
Kael's breath hitched as the wasteland stretched before him — cracked earth under a bruised sky, with fires licking the horizon like angry demons. The air was thick and heavy, like he'd swallowed a handful of dust and regret.
This isn't some playground, he thought bitterly. This is a death trap.
The sigil on his wrist pulsed, a fierce, burning rhythm that matched the pounding of his heart. His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms.
'Alright, Kael, get your shit together. You didn't survive that damn shard explosion to shit your pants now.'
A sudden gust of hot wind swept through the barren plain, carrying whispers — faint, maddening — like voices from a nightmare. The Tower was speaking, and it wasn't here to comfort him.
He squinted into the distance. Shapes moved in the haze. Figures. Shadows. Or maybe just tricks his mind was playing.
'Fuck. Not now.'
Kael tightened his grip on the jagged rock he'd grabbed for balance. Every nerve screamed for fight or flight. But flight wasn't an option, not here.
"Alright, Tower," Kael muttered under his breath, voice raw and sharp. "If you want a fight, I'm not the one backing down."
A deep, rumbling laugh echoed through the wasteland — hollow, like the sound was coming from everywhere and nowhere at once.
From the smoke and ash, a monstrous form materialized. Towering and grotesque, its limbs were twisted metal fused with cracked stone, eyes glowing with molten fury.
Kael swallowed hard but didn't move. His voice was steady, even if his insides were screaming. "Come on then. Let's get this over with."
The beast roared, shaking the ground beneath them. Dust swirled, and the fight for survival on this cursed floor of the Tower had truly begun.
---
The beast lunged.
Kael barely had time to dive to the side before a massive claw slammed down where he'd stood, shattering the stone beneath with a bone-rattling crack. Dust exploded upward. Kael coughed violently as he rolled across the rough ground, lungs burning.
"Holy shit," he wheezed, scrambling to his feet. "It's fast for something that damn big."
The monster turned, its molten eyes locked on him like he was the only thing in the world worth destroying.
'Think, Kael. You don't have a weapon. You don't have armor. You've got—what? Rocks and a glowing goddamn tattoo?'
Another roar. Another swipe.
Kael ducked low and sprinted under the beast's swinging arm, boots scraping over shattered ground. He caught sight of exposed wires and pulsing energy between the creature's stone plating.
"Gotcha, you ugly bastard," he growled. Every monster has a weak spot… right?
He didn't have time to hesitate. He picked up a broken shard of obsidian-like stone — heavy, jagged, and sharp. Not ideal, but better than his fists.
The beast charged again, steam blasting from vents in its shoulders. The ground trembled as it moved. Kael's pulse thundered in his ears, and for a second, he thought, I'm going to die here.
But something inside him snapped.
Not fear — fury.
Fury at being dragged into a nightmare without warning. Fury at the Tower for treating him like a lab rat. Fury at his old life, at the weakness he'd always carried.
"No," Kael hissed, slamming the shard into his palm like a dagger. "I'm done being a fucking victim."
---
The next few seconds were a blur.
Kael dashed forward — not away, but straight toward the beast's side. As it raised its claw, Kael dropped low and drove the shard into one of the glowing vents at the creature's knee joint.
A blast of burning steam erupted, and the beast let out a distorted screech — a sound like metal being torn in half.
Kael stumbled back, his hand scorched from the heat, but grinning like a madman.
"Yeah? Didn't like that, huh?!"
The monster turned, now limping slightly — damaged, but not done.
Kael didn't wait.
He circled fast, ducking between the beast's legs and climbing up a lower ledge of its back — the plates were rough enough to grip, and adrenaline pushed him past the pain in his limbs.
'You want me to climb, Tower? Then I'll climb this freak right to hell.'
He reached the upper shoulder, wrapped an arm around a spiked protrusion, and rammed the shard into the creature's glowing spine seam.
The result was immediate.
A convulsion ran through the beast like it had been electrocuted. Its limbs spasmed. It bucked wildly, trying to throw him off.
Kael held on with everything he had. He grit his teeth, shoved the shard deeper, and yelled through the chaos.
"Fall, you son of a—!"
The monster slammed into a rock pillar, shattering both itself and the structure. Kael was flung into the air, flipping once before he crashed to the ground in a heap.
Pain exploded across his back and ribs. Stars danced in his vision.
Everything went quiet.
---
Am I dead?
Kael lay there, staring up at the swirling sky of the illusion, smoke curling through cracks in the clouds.
Did I win?
The ground rumbled one last time... then silence.
He forced himself to sit up, every part of his body protesting. His left arm hung limp — maybe dislocated. Blood dripped from a gash on his temple. His shirt was torn, hands blackened with soot.
But the monster was gone.
Its massive form lay still, broken, its core cracked open like a dead heart.
Kael exhaled, long and shaky.
"I actually fucking did it…"
A deep chime echoed across the wasteland. The illusion around him began to fade — the fires, the sky, even the cracked earth peeling away like smoke.
Kael blinked, and suddenly he was back in the Tower's chamber — standing, somehow, though he didn't remember getting up.
The orb in the center of the room was gone.
But a doorway had opened.
A long, dark hallway stretched into the unknown, lined with torches that burned a strange blue.
The sigil on his wrist pulsed again, calmer now. As if satisfied.
Trial cleared, he realized.
But before he could move, another voice echoed behind him.
Clapping.
Slow. Mocking.
Kael turned.
Another figure had appeared by the wall — young, lean, wearing traveler's gear far too clean for this hellhole.
A cocky smirk pulled at the stranger's lips. "Damn, you made it. I thought you were just another rookie about to get flattened."
Kael narrowed his eyes. "Who the hell are you?"
The man bowed with a flourish. "Name's Riven. Nice to meet you, Tower-bound."
Kael didn't trust him. Not even a little.
Riven's eyes gleamed. "Don't worry. I'm not here to kill you. Not yet."