The forged metal golem’s frosted shell’s cracks leaked the hot forged material inside, but this seemed to do nothing about the frosted exterior of the golem. Tabitha deflected a punch of the golem, it’s fist slamming into the ground beside her, and she swung her mace at the crack then exposed, a terrific golden blast of energy blasting the golem alongside her strike.

The cracked exterior of the golem caved in and cascaded along the rest of it’s form, cracking and falling apart. Tabitha left back as the molten metal poured out of the golem, sizzling on the floor, and the loot drops from the golem remained as it evaporated into magic.

Nearby a wall began to grind and rumble as a door began to open, and Tabitha felt a little elation at her actually finishing the enemy for once, since nobody else really specialized in blunt weapons. “I’m leaving, it’s hot here,” she said, not even waiting to inspect the loot.

The three dragons all shrugged, none of them bored, but Tabitha, even covered in rock, darted to follow.

----------------------------------------

There he stood, the 'master' of the tower. Beside him, a recall point. Behind him, a simple door that could have led to a bathroom as easily as anything else. "You made it. Good. I've been saving this one especially for you."

Smolder approached with folded arms. "Well, nice to see you instead of hearing Spike describing it, but what kind of sick joke are you about to spring on us this time?"

"Not a joke." He brought his hands together slowly, folding his fingers across one another. "I heard you, talking… I used to take such pride in the art of a carefully planned floor, from the top to the bottom, each and every step tailored to those who would dare them."

Tabitha raised her mace high. "Bring it on!"

"What fire. Are the dragons having an effect on you?" A joking smile on his face, his eyes were on Sandra. "You seem less concerned."

“You want us to ascend,” Sandra stared at him with a cold expression. “You won’t put anything in the way that would stop that.”

The man’s smile widened. “Of course not. I’m not putting this in your way to stop you, but to compel you. Art does not destroy.”

“If you were so into those things, why do you want to stop? What changed?” Spike decided it was time to cut through the chaff.

The man's smile soured. “Nothing changed. That’s the problem. Nothing changes. Even the adventurers, theoretically each unique in their own way, blur into each other.” He stepped forward, gesturing. “This group has two spellcasters and three melee, but I can use the same tactics I used against three spellcasters and two melee. This group has a rare class, but to be honest I’ve still seen this rare class a dozen times.”

"With an extraplanar pony?" All eyes turned to Twilight, who was just as surprised as they were. "Oh, I can talk?"

"For the moment." He waggled a finger softly in a figure eight. "Don't get used to it. That is a… relatively rare trick. I've only seen it twice before, which counts as almost unique."

Sandra thrust her clenched fists against her hips. "You're kidding. If we're so boring, why do you care?"

The man sighed. “I didn’t say you weren’t boring. Only that I was bored in general.” He gestured at the dragons. “I literally made this happen, of course I took an interest.”

“Why don’t you do this more, then?” Spike said.

“Yes, why don’t I do this thing that took two generations and, given your antagonism, is a widely hated thing that I did,” the man said flatly, then sighed. “Enjoy your floor.” And he was gone.

Spike blinked at the place the man used to be in. “Oh uh… I guess we’re going…”

Twilight neighed, a loud noise entirely appropriate for a horse. She clopped the ground, pawing out it with clear agitation, her communication removed.

"Nice while it lasted." Sandra patted Twilight in sympathy. "We better get going then. We won't get much done here, but…" She moved to tag the recall point.

They entered the simple door, only to find themselves in what seemed to be an entirely different world. Garble slumped back against a fresh door, heaving for breath. "Is that how dragons in this world do things?!"

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Sandra sank against her own door, each of them seeming to emerge from their own personal journey. "I could hear every single voice. All the spirits, all of them. Even my parts had voices!" She thrust up her hand into view. "Each fingernail, urgently trying to get my attention."

Spike inclined his head. "I don't get it." The others looked to him. "What? I was just… a person." He pointed vaguely downwards towards the city. "I wasn't a special dragon tower breaker, just a normal person. Nobody thought I was special. It was kinda boring, but not the end of the world or anything."

"Lucky." Smolder glared at the door she had come through. "That bastard made me feed all the monsters. And I do mean all of them." The threw her hands wide as if to encompass the enormity of the task. "The supplies kept coming, but so did the requests and shouts and they wouldn't shut up!" She let her hands fall limply. "Sorry I ever got mad at you guys."

Tabitha had been quiet until then, fiddling with her mace, twirling it clockwise, then counterclockwise, held ramrod straight in her grip, her gaze somewhere distant.

Smolder peered at Tabitha. "Was it that bad?"

"Worse." Tabitha let the mace tip downward, but not hit the ground. "He showed me the truth."

Spike sat up a little, pushing up to stand. "The truth?"

"The heroes." Her grip tightened, fists trembling. "Each of them that made it this far. Groups that came, the ones where there was only one 'survivor'." She paused to make finger quotes. "The ones that made it together, or alone. Each of them… And there was always a thread, a little thread that connected them, all--"

Garble slammed down a hand on Tabitha's shoulder. "Alright! At least one of us got some intel."

Smolder elbowed him roughly in the side. "She's still wrestling with it, Gar Gar. Let her… recover, alright?"

"Perspective." The others looked towards Spike. "That's what we got." He hiked a thumb at himself. "The average person, dull, uninteresting, at least from this angle." He turned a claw on Smolder and Sandra, pointing at them both. "And from his side, watching over this whole tower, with all the people in it, needing his attention, always needing things."

Garble lifted his shoulders with a great rolling of his eyes. "And mine?"

Smolder snorted with a puff of smoke. "The dragon view, duh. This world's take on dragons, but the dragon view still. So, how was it? Are dragons just as cool around here or not? We've only seen the monsters. Are they like that?"

“They uh… were different,” Garble said. “There were some similarities, I guess. They were still really proud and like… better than other races. But they also like… they’d do all this planning? They spend all this time trying to change other races. Making them fight other stuff, gathering magic. They can turn into other races, too?” He puffed out some smoke. “And they only focus on magic stuff to hoard. Regular stuff means nothing to them. Which I guess I get.”

Smolder inclined her head with thought. "Different cool. Still kinda cool. They're big magic hoarding changeling dragons? That's pretty cool. And they're so sure they're the best, they spend their time trying to get everycreature else in line, I can respect that." She thumped her chest with a confident smirk. "Ponies could learn a few things from us."

"Is that why you learn at their school?" Garble grinned at his sister. "Seems to me some creature is teaching another, but it ain't a dragon giving the lessons."

“That doesn’t sound like an insult directed at ponies.” Spike smirked.

“It’s directed at Smolder!” Garble whirled around to glare at the smaller dragon. “The rest of the dragons are just fine!”

“Except that Ember is taking the ‘pony way’ herself.” Spike smugly faced the larger dragon.

“Shut up!”

Smolder started laughing, and the three of them started to walk to the next floor, not tired enough.

In the recall room, Tabitha and Sandra remained, Tabitha’s “intel” forgotten in their mirth.

At least, mostly forgotten. “So, what did you see?” Sandra said.

"There were, was… always… someone, sometimes more than someone." She stopped her failed attempts, just breathing a moment. "Each story has a star." She held up one finger. "Your parents, they were the star. Their story, about them. The others who came in with them, cast aside." She made a rough toss of a motion. "When are they even mentioned?"

"Are you worried about being left out?" Sandra shook her head slowly. "You insisted. We--"

"--I'm not trying to get attention." Her words sounded lame in her ears. "I was! But that isn't what this is about. The dragons are a set piece, brought here to get a specific thing done, which they are doing. They won't leave the tower when it's done."

"They'll go home."

"They don't have to. It doesn't matter." She brought her hands together, fingers enmeshing tightly. "It doesn't matter, just that they're done, and the tower will not let them go out the front door when it's done. The tales will be legendary, but they aren't leaving."

“My parents went out the front door,” Sandra said. “They got out of the tower.”

“Right, and then spent the rest of their lives telling everyone they were so close but just couldn’t make it, and did they mention the two others that are probably still in the tower like Turro is?” Tabitha looked up to the top. “They didn’t. And I can’t name a single person who has gotten to the top. Others no doubt must have made it and then never told anyone.”

“So what?” Sandra tilted her head. “It doesn’t seem that hard to believe that people might decide to hide it.”

“Not over the entire life of the tower,” Tabitha said. “Someone would want to say, someone would have to confide or reveal. But other than being sure someone got to the top, we have no idea who they are or… or what they wished for at the top.”

"My parents were heroes." Sandra rocked forwards and back a little. "It's what they wanted."

"Like me." Tabitha spoke as if haunted. "They wanted it just as bad… And they got it."

"They got it…" Sandra ran a dry tongue over her lips. "They got to the top."

"They got to the top," echoed Tabitha in grim agreement.

"You coming?!" Garble's head was poking back into the room. "We're so close, what are you two waiting for?"