The Tower whispered in his blood.
Kael stood at the edge of the second stratum—its corridors narrowing into an obsidian throat lit by flickering, dying glyphs. The air smelled of iron, like old blood and rusted weapons.
Beneath his feet, the sigils pulsed in unfamiliar rhythms.
He'd felt the Tower shift before, adapting to intruders, crafting challenges that reflected their psyche—but this felt different.
It wasn't reacting to him.
It was peering into him.
He moved silently through the corridor, blade drawn, senses sharp. But his thoughts drifted—unbidden—to Lira's voice, the warmth of her hand, the sound of her laughter echoing through some crumbling memory.
You shouldn't still have this, he thought. You burned it. Cut it. Bled it out.
But the Tower did not forget.
It reflected what its climbers could not repress.
In the distance, something hummed—a song, fragmented and low, like a child singing through broken glass.
He turned a corner and stopped.
There she was.
Lira.
Not alive. Not real.
But perfect.
She stood barefoot in the center of the hall, her eyes hollow, her hair matted with blood.
"You let me die, Kael," she said. Not in anger. In recognition.
He said nothing.
He knew what this was: a temporal ghost. The Tower's way of testing his weakness.
But still, he hesitated.
"You're stronger now," she said. "But are you better?"
He stepped toward her. His blade wavered.
"You're not her," he muttered.
"No," she replied. "I'm you."
She stepped forward—and shattered into a thousand pieces of glass.
Each shard hovered midair, spinning.
Then, with a sound like reversed thunder, they slammed together into a new form.
Kael's mirror self, cloaked in Hollow Circle robes, eyes silver with cold.
"Face what you were," the Tower whispered."Or fall to what you've become."
Combat Initiated: Tower Construct — "Severed Kael"
Attributes: Precognition (3 sec), Pathblade Mastery, Emotionless
Weakness: Memory Overload
Kael struck first—fast, sharp, precise.
But his mirror moved faster, predicting his blade. It moved like he once had—before doubt crept back in. Cold. Efficient. Severed.
The two clashed in mirrored fury, sparks flying across rune-marked stone.
Kael gritted his teeth.
The echo cut him across the cheek.
He's faster because he has no weight. No pain. No memory.
That's when Kael changed tactics.
He closed his eyes.
And remembered.
His first kill.
Lira's warmth.
The knife at his temple.
The dream that wouldn't die.
Pain surged. The echo faltered.
Kael opened his eyes—and smiled.
"You're me without memory."
"But I've learned that pain is power."
He roared and surged forward—not with speed, but with unpredictability. With grief. With rage. With joy, even—old, fractured joy.
Each movement was chaos.
And chaos beat precision.
His blade pierced the mirror self's heart.
The echo shattered.
The Tower stilled.
In the silence, Kael heard his own breath.
But more than that—
He heard the Tower whisper again.
"You are not as Severed as you claim."
"And that… is dangerous."
[System Notice]
Trait Gained:Fractured Self— Your memories cannot be fully suppressed. You may resist memory-based attacks. But beware: Your past may manifest at any time.—
Tower Response: Increased volatility in future strata.
Kael stood in the dark, heart pounding.
Somewhere ahead, the third stratum opened its mouth, wide and waiting.
He didn't hesitate.
He moved forward.
Not as a weapon.
Not yet human.
But something in between.
Something dangerous.