The world spun as Tyler felt his consciousness pulled through a vortex of swirling light. Just as suddenly as the disorienting sensation began, it ceased, and Tyler found himself standing alone in a glass room. The first thing he noticed was the sterile, almost clinical atmosphere. The walls around him were transparent, but reinforced by some kind of magical barrier that he could feel pulsing faintly when he approached them. The room itself was small, with just enough space to stand and turn around.
He quickly glanced around and saw that his glass room was one of many. All around him, in every direction, were identical rooms, each one containing several people. They were stacked above and below, stretching endlessly in all directions. The sight was dizzying, an almost kaleidoscopic array of people in their individual glass boxes. Some were calm, others were panicking, and a few were methodically inspecting their enclosures.
Tyler’s breath caught as he recognized a familiar figure in the room directly next to his—Livia. He clenched his jaw, realizing that Seraphina had taken one last jab at him, sending them directly to the 65th-floor challenge without giving him any time to regenerate his mana. It was a petty act of revenge, but one that left him at a significant disadvantage. Livia was looking around, confusion evident in her expression. Relief flooded through him as he banged on the glass, trying to get her attention. She turned, her eyes widening as she spotted him.
He attempted to remove a part of the glass separating them, reaching out with his mana to try and manipulate the material, but the glass resisted his efforts. It was as if the very essence of the tower had fortified these enclosures, preventing any tampering. Frustrated but determined, Tyler summoned a small amount of mana and created a thin layer of frost on the glass, using it to write a message: " Don’t worry, everything’s okay. If we get split up, I will find you"
Livia read the message, her expression relaxing slightly as she nodded in understanding. She pressed her hand against the glass in a reassuring gesture. Tyler returned the gesture with a nod, then took a moment to survey the other glass rooms around them.
He wasn’t the only one who had spotted someone they knew. Across from him, another pair of individuals exchanged worried glances, and in a far corner, a group of identical-looking men stood in a much larger room, each pointing weapons at the others, their stances tense and ready for conflict. Tyler’s room was relatively small, indicating that this was his first time reaching this floor—there weren’t multiple versions of him here. He glanced back at the room with over a hundred men, realizing that the more versions of oneself there were, the larger the room.
Before he could process this strange situation any further, a voice echoed through the space, clear and loud enough to be heard by everyone. The voice was strangely eccentric, almost playful, but carried an undertone of authority.
“Welcome, welcome to the Tower of Gods! Congratulations to each and every one of you for making it this far. Quite the accomplishment, isn’t it? But I’m sure you must be wondering, ‘Wasn’t I already climbing the tower?’ Well, here’s a little secret for you: No, you weren’t! You were merely being vetted, tested to see if you have what it takes to truly climb.”
The voice paused, letting the information sink in, before continuing with a slight chuckle. “Now, I’m sure you’re all very confused about the current situation. Why are there multiple versions of you in these rooms? Isn’t it fascinating? You see, this is every version of you that has ever reached this floor. And not just you—around you, stretching as far as the eye can see in every direction, are rooms containing every single person in history who has ever made it this far. A truly unique gathering, if I do say so myself. But now comes the real test!”
Tyler felt a chill run down his spine as the voice carried on, its tone almost whimsical. “You have two minutes to decide who among you is the strongest. Only the strongest version of you can continue. If you can’t decide... well, you’ll just have to fight it out, won’t you? Oh, and don’t worry—if you die here, you’ll simply be sent back to the last safe zone you reached, your memories wiped clean of this little event. But make no mistake: only one of you may proceed. The clock is ticking, my dear challengers. Tick-tock, tick-tock!”
The voice faded out, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Tyler’s mind raced as he considered the implications of what he had just heard. He looked at Livia, who was also staring at him with a mixture of determination and concern. All around him, the atmosphere in the glass rooms shifted as people began to come to terms with the reality of their situation.
This was it—the 65th floor. A test unlike any other, his mind raced as the implications of the voice’s announcement settled in. He realised those around him who were alone in their respective glass room had either died or completed the tower, no second chances. The thought sent a chill down his spine. This was it; there was no going back.
He looked down through the glass floor, which provided a clear view of the rooms below. Some were much larger, packed with dozens, if not hundreds, of people—different versions of the same person, each one vying for the chance to move forward. In one room, a chaotic free-for-all had already erupted. Figures clashed violently, their weapons clanging and sparking as they fought with reckless abandon. Blood splattered across the walls, and bodies fell, only to dissolve and disappear.
In another room, Tyler noticed a peculiar scene: a group of four versions of the same person, all sitting in a circle on the floor, holding hands and talking animatedly. Tears streamed down their faces as they embraced each other, seemingly oblivious to the two-minute countdown. It was as if they were catching up on old times, sharing stories from different lifetimes, despite the looming decision that needed to be made.
The voice returned, this time with a sharper, more urgent tone. “One minute remaining! If a clear decision is not made by the end of the two minutes, a decision will be made for you. Once you are ready, may the chosen one please step onto the flashing square in the room?”
Panic surged through the rooms below as the flashing squares appeared. In some, the fighting intensified, a mad scramble to reach the square first. People dove and lunged, clashing in mid-air as they fought to be the one to stand on that glowing spot. In other rooms, there was a silent, almost resigned acceptance as one figure was nodded toward the square, the others stepping aside to let them pass.
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In another corner, Tyler spotted an odd sight—three versions of a man standing in a triangle, each holding out a hand in a familiar gesture. They were playing rock-paper-scissors. Tyler smiled as one version of the man groaned in frustration after losing the match while the winner calmly stepped forward toward a flashing square in the centre of the room.
Tyler looked back at Livia, who met his gaze through the glass. There was no one else in his room—no other versions of himself to contest. All he had to do was take a single step forward. He nodded to Livia, and she returned the gesture. They both understood what was at stake.
Tyler moved forward, positioning himself on the flashing square, his heart pounding in his chest as the final seconds ticked away.
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Tyler’s vision blurred as he stepped onto the flashing square, everything around him fading to white. The next thing he knew, he was standing in the middle of a vast savanna, the wind rustling through tall grasses that stretched as far as the eye could see. The warmth of the sun beat down on him, yet his body felt stiff, almost paralyzed. He could barely move, only able to turn his head to take in his surroundings.
As he looked around, the savanna began to transform, the landscape shifting seamlessly into a range of towering mountains that climbed higher and higher. The sky above seemed to curve, the horizon bending in a way that defied all logic. Tyler’s heart raced as he realized where he was—or rather, what he was on. The landscape formed a massive ring, curving up and around in a halo-like shape, encircling a vast expanse. The biomes changed every few miles, from savanna to mountains, to dense forests, and even icy tundras, all contained within this colossal structure.
Instinctively, Tyler tried to activate his runes, to pull a sword from his inventory, but nothing happened. His powers, his tools—they were all inaccessible. Panic began to set in, but before he could dwell on it, the familiar voice returned, echoing through the savanna.
“Welcome to the first challenge,” the voice announced with a sinister enthusiasm. “Now that you’ve reached this stage, the rules have changed. If you die here, you are, in fact, dead. There are no second chances, no safe zones to return to. The challenge is simple: you must kill one other participant to advance. Touch the mark on their wrist after you’ve killed them, and you’ll be transported to the next stage.”
Tyler felt a cold weight settle in his stomach. The voice continued, “There’s no time limit, but the playing area will shrink over time, forcing you into confrontation. The longer you wait, the less space you’ll have to hide. And remember, only one kill is necessary to proceed.”
A countdown began, the voice booming in his ears. Tyler’s mind raced. As soon as the countdown ended, he activated the shields on his entire team, including himself. He immediately dropped into the tall grass, hoping to stay hidden, but almost instantly, he felt a massive drain on his mana. It wasn’t an attack on him—one of his teammates was taking huge hits.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. He knew none of them would be outright attacking anyone this early in the challenge. It had to be an ambush, and from the looks of it, a brutal one. He checked his mana reserves, cursing as he saw they hadn’t fully regenerated since his fight with Seraphina. The void spell he’d used to subdue her had slowed his regeneration to a crawl.
He reached for the Twin Stone in his pocket, feeling it tug upward. His heart sank as he realized the stone was pointing toward the halo above him, miles away. The landscape on the ring was arid, the distance too great to make out individual figures. His mind raced through his options.
“What do I do?” he thought, trying to remain calm. He could create a fortification and hunker down, but that would just buy him time, not solve the problem. Finding his teammates was the priority, but how? He needed to craft an item that could seek out connections to his mana core, something that could guide him to his friends.
But for that, he needed relative safety, and time—two things he didn’t have. The rate at which his mana was disappearing made it clear that whatever was happening to his team was bad, and it was happening fast. He cursed under his breath, regretting not having had the time to add the mana cores they looted from Richard’s group to their weapons.
“Think, Tyler, think,” he urged himself. Every second counted, and he knew he couldn’t afford to make a wrong move.
Tyler’s mind raced as he tried to come up with a solution. The pressure of his dwindling mana and the urgency to find his teammates weighed heavily on him. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake, not here, not now.
He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. He needed to locate the nearest person connected to his mana core. He still had enough mana to craft a rudimentary seeking spell, something that would give him a direction—any direction. Grabbing a mithril plate from his inventory he quickly inscribed a rudimentary spell and connected it to his core. Activating the runes a small orb of light hovered in front of him. It was dim, flickering weakly, but it would have to do. He activated the runes, the ones designed to detect the nearest source linked to his mana. The orb pulsed faintly before drifting upward and to the right.
“Come on,” Tyler muttered, forcing his legs to move. He followed the orb, keeping low in the tall grass, his heart pounding in his chest. The savanna was eerily quiet, the only sound being the rustling of the wind through the grass and his own laboured breathing.
As he crested a small hill, he caught sight of a figure in the distance—Marcus. The unmistakable silhouette of Marcus’s massive scythe cut through the tall grass, a brief surge of relief washing over Tyler—only to be shattered a moment later. As he ran towards Marcus, he noticed something was wrong. Marcus moved sluggishly, his body barely holding itself upright, the once-mighty swing of his scythe now faltering against an unseen enemy.
“No, no, no,” Tyler whispered frantically, pushing himself to move faster. He could feel his own mana depleting with every step, the shields he’d placed on his teammates pulling from his reserves. The gap between them was closing, but not fast enough.
Just as Tyler was within shouting distance, he saw it—a beastman, towering over Marcus, easily twice the size of a human. The creature had a massive sword, its blade gleaming menacingly in the sunlight. Marcus, barely able to stand, turned to look at Tyler, his eyes filled with a silent apology, as if to say, *I’m sorry.*
Tyler’s breath caught in his throat as he watched in helpless horror. The beastman moved with terrifying speed, its massive sword slicing through the air with lethal precision. Before Tyler could even scream, the sword found its mark, and Marcus’s head was severed from his body in one swift motion. His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
“No A ragged scream finally tore itself from Tyler’s throat, but it was too late. His mana reserves were utterly depleted, leaving him as empty as the desolate savanna. Each step became a brutal testament to his fading strength, agony rippling through his exhausted limbs. His legs threatened to buckle beneath him, each step a surge of agony that drained the last remnants of his strength.
The beastman turned its gaze toward Tyler, its eyes cold and calculating, a small smile tugged at his lips. Tyler wavered, barely able to stay upright, let alone defend himself. His vision blurred with a mix of fatigue and despair as the creature bent down, touched the mark on Marcus’s wrist, and without a second glance, vanished into thin air, leaving Tyler to the haunting silence of the savanna.
Tyler stumbled forward, falling to his knees next to Marcus’s body. The world spun violently around him, the harsh reality of Marcus’s death crashing over him like a relentless tidal wave. His vision blurred, and the last thing he saw before everything went dark was Marcus’s lifeless form lying in the grass.
Tyler collapsed, the weight of his failure pulling him into unconsciousness.