I didn't know how long I had spent on the rooftop. The city below was frozen in anxious anticipation. People crowded the streets, staring at the sky, discussing the glowing windows and the sudden message that everyone had seen.
But I already knew what to do.
I felt like I had been waiting for this moment for far too long. I couldn't let it pass me by.
I descended into the depths of the gray, peeling stairwells of the old apartment block. My home... if you could even call it that.
A tiny apartment on the eighth floor — run-down, damp, reeking of mold and old furniture.
But there were things here that meant too much to leave behind without a word.
I packed a backpack quickly. Power bank, knife, some food, an old jacket — familiar items that I knew wouldn't matter much anymore. But they gave me the illusion of control.
In the corner of the room, beneath a greasy poster of a fantasy swordsman, stood a small home shrine. A wooden shelf, and on it — a framed photo.
Mom. Dad.
I lit two wax candles and knelt, lowering my head. The flame flickered like it was breathing. My eyes stung.
"I'm leaving," I whispered.
"To the Tower... the one everyone's talking about. No one knows what's inside. But I... I want to go in. I have to."
My fingers trembled, but my voice stayed firm.
"My name is Ryu Min. I'm eighteen. And I'm alone. You left a year ago — in that catastrophe... I couldn't change anything then. But now... I have a chance.
I don't know what kind of madness waits in the Tower, but I feel that's where I'll find answers. Or die trying."
I bowed deeply.
"Wish me luck... from the other side."
I didn't mention my brother. He was always disappearing somewhere. I don't think he'd even notice I was gone.
But that doesn't matter anymore.
-------
Late night. The city had mostly gone quiet. But the path to the Tower was alive.
Crowds were moving toward the giant silhouette as if drawn by a call no one could hear — yet everyone felt.
Some walked alone, some in groups. Students, workers, elders, children. Each carried either hope or despair.
I walked among them, silently, like a shadow. Step by step — toward the gates.
Up close, the Tower was a hundred times taller than it looked from afar. Smooth, black surface — not stone, not metal, something else. Otherworldly.
The gates stood open.
From within, a soft white light spilled out. Not blinding, but mesmerizing. The space beyond… was misty. Infinitely white. No walls, no ceiling, no floor — only light.
And it called.
I stepped inside.
For a moment, I lost my balance, like I had fallen into a void.
Then — silence.
The abyss faded, and I was standing upright. A room? No. A space without size. White. Empty.
No doors. No other people. Just me.
I looked around. Backpack — still on me. Clothes — unchanged. Everything felt real.
And then the first window appeared:
[You have entered the Tower]
Followed by another:
[Please select difficulty level]
Easy — Normal — Hard
Just like in a game. The interface, the design, the style — straight out of an RPG. But here, it didn't smell like pixels. It smelled like the unknown.
Then, beneath the three buttons, a fourth one suddenly lit up in bright red:
[True]
I frowned. No description. No hint. "True"...
Above "Hard"? Or maybe a trap?
"Well..." I whispered. "No harm in choosing True... right?"
I clicked it.
The world exploded in a flash.
The light vanished — instantly, like someone pulled the plug.
I found myself in a massive stone hall.
The walls were gray and rough, the ceiling lost in darkness.
In the center — dozens, maybe hundreds of weapons stabbed into the ground.
Swords, bows, axes, spears, daggers... even staffs.
A new message:
[Please select a weapon]
[Your class will be determined based on your choice]
I stepped closer.
They were all real. Metal, wood, leather — the craftsmanship looked hand-forged.
I picked up a sword, swung it — heavy but balanced. Put it down.
Tried a spear — long, with a glittering tip. Then a bow. A staff. An axe. Everything worked. Everything felt real.
But how to choose?
I turned around and saw another prompt:
[Once you choose a weapon, you may place it in your inventory for convenience]
[To do so, say: "Inventory"]
"Inventory," I said aloud.
A new window appeared in the air.
A grid of empty slots, hundreds of them.
In the first row — three items: two potions (one blue, one red), and a small pouch. I tapped the pouch: [100 coins].
Wow.
I turned back to the weapons. Looked at the message, then the arsenal again.
"Is there a limit to how many weapons I can take?"
[No. You are limited only by your own decision.]
I smirked. Interesting.
I picked up the spear and said,
"Inventory."
It vanished. Appeared in the window. Then a sword. A staff. A bow. Two short daggers. A shield.
Everything that seemed useful — I stored it.
The space didn't resist.
It only waited.
"Well... I'm ready," I finally said.
The screen flashed with a new line:
[Analyzing based on selected weapons...]
[Attention: Class selection available]
Then — three new options appeared, each pulsing with its own color:
[Rare — Magic Swordsman]
[Rare — Assassin]
[Unique — Master of All Weapons]
I held my breath.
A unique class?
In games, that meant elite. Not something handed out to everyone. A rarity. A path outside standard scripts.
Not a template.
I slowly reached out toward the window.
Each word pulsed in my head.
"Master of All Weapons"... no restrictions? Ultimate flexibility?
Or... a path full of pain and sacrifice?
I clenched my fist.
If I came to the Tower, it wasn't to live by someone else's rules.
I would carve my own path. No templates.
"I choose... Unique — Master of All Weapons."
Let the Tower show me what I'm made of.