Kael's fists tightened as the smug bastard in front of him grinned like he owned the damn place.
"Riven, huh?" he said, spitting blood onto the stone floor. "Didn't ask."
The man raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, no need to be rude. You just survived your first illusion trial. That's something to celebrate."
"Celebrate?" Kael barked a harsh laugh. "I nearly got roasted alive by a flaming mech-demon. You think I'm in the mood to party?"
Riven shrugged, leaning casually against the archway like he hadn't a care in the world. "You're alive. That alone means the Tower's watching."
Kael's stomach twisted. "Watching?"
"Oh yeah," Riven said, tapping the side of his head. "This place isn't just some broken-ass ruin. It sees. It knows. And when it likes someone..."
He pointed at Kael's glowing wrist sigil.
"It marks them."
Kael glanced at the rune, still pulsing faintly on his skin. The heat had faded, but it wasn't gone. It felt like an eye — staring, waiting.
"Fan-fucking-tastic," he muttered. "So what now? Another flaming robot from hell?"
Riven chuckled. "No. Worse."
---
Kael followed Riven reluctantly into the next hallway, torchlight casting long shadows across the stone. The walls here weren't smooth — they were carved with deep gouges, like something with claws had scratched its way out.
"Cozy," Kael muttered, eyeing the gashes.
"This floor's older," Riven said. "The Tower wasn't always like this. Back in the early epochs, it didn't even have floors. Just… chaos."
Kael shot him a look. "How the hell do you know that?"
Riven grinned again. "Because unlike you, I've been here a while."
'Bullshit,' Kael thought. The guy looked maybe twenty-five, tops. Either he was lying, or—
"You age differently up here," Riven added, reading Kael's face. "Time stretches, snaps, warps. Sometimes you live a year in a day. Sometimes a second drags like a century."
Kael shook his head. "This place is fucked."
"You're not wrong."
---
They reached the end of the hallway, and the stone opened up into a new chamber — wide, circular, with dozens of stone pedestals arranged like a spiral. On each pedestal sat an object — a weapon, a scroll, a vial, even a single white feather.
"What the hell is this?" Kael asked.
"Your first gift," Riven said. "The Tower gives every Climber a choice — power, knowledge, support, or... risk."
Kael took a step closer, eyeing the nearest pedestal. A jagged black blade rested on it, etched with crimson runes. Something about it made his blood itch.
"Let me guess," Kael said. "Choose wrong and it kills me?"
Riven laughed. "Nah. That comes later."
Kael narrowed his eyes and started walking the spiral, studying each pedestal. Every object gave off a vibe. The scrolls whispered. The vials shimmered like trapped lightning. One pedestal held a cracked hourglass leaking silver sand into the air — when he got close, his chest ached like someone punched his lungs.
"This place is cursed."
"It's the Tower," Riven said. "Of course it's cursed."
Kael stopped in front of a worn leather gauntlet. Simple. Faded. But as he reached out, his wrist sigil flared.
His hand hovered over it.
"Whatever you pick, Kael," Riven said, suddenly serious, "the Tower will make you use it. Maybe not today. Maybe not even next floor. But eventually..."
Kael grabbed the gauntlet.
Light flared — a pulse of heat shooting through his veins like molten iron. The sigil glowed brighter, and the gauntlet bound itself to his arm, tightening perfectly against his skin.
Something shifted in his head — like a locked door opening.
[Epoch Skill Acquired: Chrono Grip – Phase I.]
Kael staggered. Visions flickered in his mind — hands reaching through time, stopping motion, twisting momentum like threads.
What the hell did I just take...?
Riven gave a low whistle. "Damn. You picked a rare one."
Kael rubbed his temples. "What's a Chrono Grip?"
"Time manipulation," Riven said. "At least, eventually. Right now? You'll probably just be able to slow things down a bit."
Kael's heartbeat spiked. Time. Real time magic.
That… could change everything.
Before he could speak, a deep horn sounded through the chamber — low and full of menace. The torches dimmed.
Riven straightened. "Shit. Looks like you took too long."
Kael glanced at him. "Too long for what?"
The spiral pedestals crumbled to dust behind him. The room began to shake.
And a second door opened.
From it came a new sound — not a roar. Not a screech.
A whisper.
A chorus of whispers.
Cold. Hungry.
Kael backed up a step. "Tell me that's not what I think it is."
Riven was already drawing two shortblades from under his cloak. "Hope you're ready, rookie."
From the shadows crawled the next wave of horror.
And this time, they weren't alone.
---
The whispers grew louder.
They weren't just sounds. They were voices — layered, ancient, and wrong. Kael's skin crawled as they wrapped around his skull like a swarm of gnats, slipping beneath thought, prying open memories.
You are dust… You will break… Time is hunger…
"Nope," Kael growled, shaking his head violently. "Get the fuck out of my head."
The gauntlet on his arm reacted — glowing faintly, the runes on its surface flickering like a dying flame. The whispers recoiled, just slightly.
From the darkness of the doorway, shapes began to emerge.
Twisted things. Shadow-flesh writhing over bones too long to be human. Their eyes were hollow, mouths stitched shut with black thread — but still, they whispered.
Kael's jaw clenched. "The hell are these freaks?"
Riven's voice was cold. Focused. "Epoch Wraiths. Failed Climbers. They got lost in the time loops… became them."
Kael's stomach dropped. "You're telling me those things used to be people?"
"They still are," Riven said, flipping his blades. "Barely."
The first Wraith lunged.
Kael stepped back on instinct, and time twitched around him.
For a fraction of a second, everything slowed — the Wraith's claws slicing through the air like they were moving in syrup. Kael saw the arc. The angle. The path.
'Now.'
He ducked low, the movement sudden and sharp, and slammed his gauntleted fist into the Wraith's chest. There was a burst of pressure — like hitting a water balloon filled with smoke — and the thing exploded into shadow, vanishing with a shriek.
"Holy shit," Kael breathed, staring at his hand. "That was…"
"Chrono Grip," Riven called, dancing between two more Wraiths. "You're syncing with the Tower's time fabric. Don't think — just act!"
Another Wraith shrieked and darted toward Kael. Two more followed, gliding unnaturally over the stone.
Kael felt his pulse rising. The gauntlet responded — the glowing runes thrumming with heat.
Come on. Show me what you've got.
He sidestepped, and time bent. Not fully — not stopped — but slowed, like a sticky rewind.
He struck the first Wraith in the neck, caught the second's arm mid-swipe, and threw it into the third.
All three went down in a crack of shadow and smoke.
He was breathing hard, but grinning now.
"I could get used to this."
Then the lights died.
Complete black.
Kael froze. "Riven?!"
No response.
The whispers surged, louder than before, swirling like wind inside his skull. The sigil flared again, and this time, he saw things in the dark — silhouettes moving sideways, backward, out of order.
'They're playing with time too.'
A pair of Wraiths appeared ahead — flickering in and out of sync, blinking through moments Kael hadn't seen. One moved forward — then rewound — then sidestepped an attack that hadn't even happened yet.
He cursed under his breath. "They're skipping time like it's a goddamn playlist."
Kael closed his eyes. Focused.
The gauntlet hummed — a low, deep tone, like something ancient breathing. In his mind, he felt the flow of time, like a current under the stone.
'Slow them. Hold them.'
He reached out with his thoughts — and gripped.
Time buckled.
Not for the whole room. Just a ten-foot radius around him — and the Wraiths inside it froze, stuttering like a paused video.
Kael moved.
Fast.
He rushed the closest one, drove his elbow into its gut, grabbed its twisted head, and snapped it back with a crack of energy. Shadow splattered. The second barely turned before Kael's fist shattered its chest in a burst of warped time.
The world snapped back to full speed — and silence returned.
The whispers had stopped.
The Wraiths were gone.
The torches relit themselves, blue fire flickering along the chamber walls.
Kael stood in the center of the room, panting, body trembling. Every muscle screamed, and his vision blurred — but he was alive.
And stronger.
Behind him, Riven emerged from the shadows, wiping blood from one of his blades.
"Not bad, rookie," he said, nodding. "Not bad at all."
Kael turned, still catching his breath. "That was... insane."
Riven grinned. "You synced with the Gauntlet. Slowing time this early? Most Climbers fry their brains trying."
Kael held up the Gauntlet, watching the faint smoke rise from its seams.
"It felt like the world was... water. And I was cutting through it."
"That's the beginning," Riven said, stepping forward. "You're not just climbing the Tower anymore."
Kael met his eyes. "What am I doing then?"
"You're learning to break it."
---
Just then, the Tower groaned — a deep rumble through the stone, like a god shifting in its sleep.
And a new doorway appeared — arched and black, with carvings in a language Kael didn't understand. A silver flame burned above it, and a single word appeared in his mind:
FLOOR 2: The Forgotten War
Kael swallowed hard.
"Already?"
Riven chuckled. "The Tower doesn't wait."
Kael clenched his fist, the Gauntlet pulsing with new power. He stepped toward the door, heart pounding.
Whatever came next… he wasn't running.
Not anymore.