The last of the Vanguard Strikers hit the ground with a final, seismic crash. Smoke hissed from its fractured joints, blue sparks dancing in the air like angry fireflies. The battle was over.
I gave a dry, almost amused smile. Not at the victory, but at the silence that followed. Eerie. The kind of silence you don't trust. The hallway, once lit crimson with warning lights and laser fire, reverted to its sterile, polished silver. If not for the scorched metal and scattered debris, you might think nothing happened at all.
Perfect. Pristine. Cold.
"Well, that was a party," I muttered, wiping a smear of oil from my cheek.
We moved forward. No one said a word—not because we didn't have something to say, but because we all knew the next round was waiting. It always was. That's the game.
The corridor stretched ahead like some endless artery in a metallic beast. After what felt like half a kilometer, we reached an intersection.
To the right: another corridor, just as cold and empty. To the left: a massive metallic door, standing tall at least ten meters high and glowing faintly with dormant glyphs etched into its surface. Like it was waiting.
Naturally, it caught my attention.
I slowed, eyes narrowing at the monolith. That had to be it—the next level, the real entrance. It screamed significance. I could practically hear a boss fight breathing on the other side.
I was wrong.
"This way," Cason barked, veering right without breaking stride. The rest followed, no hesitation.
"Wait," I said, frowning, my voice slicing through the hush. "That door on the left. Isn't that the entrance to the next floor?"
Everyone stopped. Heads turned.
I looked at them squarely, eyes narrowing. "Is that... not to the next floor?"
Apparently, that was hilarious.
The room fell awkwardly quiet before Gaius chuckled under his breath. He gave me a look that made me want to throw something.
"That door?" he said, lips twitching in amusement. "You must be new."
"I've been here longer than you think," I muttered.
"It shows."
"Cute," I replied flatly.
Zane, the guy who had barely spoken a word since we entered the Tower, finally opened his mouth. "Those doors exist on every normal floor. They're not the way forward. Just scenery."
"Scenery?" I asked. "That's some pretty elaborate interior decorating."
Cason, with a shrug that carried the weight of disinterest, gestured to the right. "Come on. Portal's that way. That door leads nowhere."
"Yeah, but has anyone ever tried to open it?"
Gaius snorted. "Of course. MODs engineers have been throwing everything at it since before we were born. Blasters, hackers, quantum drills—you name it."
"Let me guess. Nothing works."
Nova nodded, arms crossed over her sleek armor. "No access panels. No data ports. No visible lock. It's completely sealed. Even GAIA can't open it."
"Indestructible," Cason concluded, gesturing for the second time for me to follow as they resumed the path to the right.
I gave the door one last glance. My fingers twitched, an itch crawling up my spine.
An indestructible door even GAIA couldn't crack?
I raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like the kind of door I'd want to open."
Cason gave me a look over his shoulder. "Don't get ideas. That way lies obsession and madness."
He wasn't wrong. Still, something about that door tickled my instincts—the kind that told you when something was more than what it seemed. My Codebreaker tingled faintly in the back of my mind, but I let it rest.
Not now. Not with eyes watching.
We followed Cason down the right corridor. It was unsettling how uneventful the walk became. No sentinels. No alarms. Just silence and the hum of electricity.
I didn't like it.
"This is weird," I murmured, more to myself than anyone. "The last hallway tried to kill us with Strikers. This one feels... empty."
"Enjoy it while it lasts," Gaius said. "You think too much."
"I think just enough to not get flanked by a killbot, thanks."
Eventually, we reached the end of the corridor. A platform the size of a small lake sat waiting, rings of faint energy orbiting above it like halos. A console stood beside it, minimalistic and sleek.
Cason pulled a Data Crystal from a compartment on his utility belt and slotted it into a small, indented port. The console lit up with a soft chime, followed by a clean, artificial voice:
"Proceeding to 49th Floor. Portal activation in 10 seconds."
The squad moved onto the platform like clockwork. I hesitated, just for a second, eyes flicking back down the corridor toward the sealed door behind us.
I'll be back.
Something told me that door mattered more than they were willing to admit. Or maybe they just didn't know.
Figures. GAIA loves its secrets. So do I.
The countdown hit zero. Light surged around us, and the world dissolved.
The world pixelated, shattered, and remade itself.
Time to see what Floor 49 had in store.
********
The moment the light bled from the teleportation platform, we were no longer standing in the steel veins of Floor 48. Gone were the clinical walls and buzzing fluorescents that hummed like a machine on life support.
Instead, the 49th floor opened into a vast chamber more reminiscent of a high-tech coliseum fused with a military checkpoint designed by advanced civilizations.
The floor beneath our boots remained smooth metal, but this wasn't another corridor of doom. It was circular, wide, maybe a hundred meters across, and the walls around us were curved like we were standing inside the nucleus of a cybernetic hive.
We stood on a vast, circular platform, clean and clinical, but lacking the suffocating uniformity of the previous floor.
Five large tunnel entrances encircled us like the petals of a mechanical flower, each marked by a glowing Roman numeral — I through V — etched above reinforced blast doors.
No consoles. No hallways. No voice of AI whispering commands. Just five choices and the kind of silence that makes your skin itch.
The entire area felt... suspended—like we were trapped inside a polished lens, waiting to be zoomed in on by something watching.
"Looks like we need to choose the right pathway to move forward this time," Zane muttered, his voice taut with calm calculation.
He stepped off the slightly raised platform first. The moment his boot hit the floor, the numerals above the tunnel entrances flared to life, pulsing with soft amber light. All five. At once.
He froze for a fraction of a second. Although he hides it well, I caught him. That alone told me something wasn't right.
Years of combat instinct kicked in. Without hesitation, he stepped back onto the platform in one fluid motion.