That door ahead? It wasn't shouting or screaming or drawing a crowd. It barely even breathed. But the weight it carried? Man. It felt like it was sitting right on my chest, pressing down so hard I had to fight not to fold under it.
I glanced at Liora. Her eyes darted between the door and me—a mix of wide wonder and all the dozen questions she was too nervous to voice. She had that tight line carved along her jaw, like she was clenching her teeth so she didn't lose it right then. Her fists gripped the knife like it was the only thing that might keep the darkness away.
"We're really here, huh?" she said, voice soft, like she was afraid even saying it out loud might shatter the whole thing.
"Yeah," I whispered back, trying every inch to keep my voice calm, even though the ghosts from my mind grew thick and wild like storm clouds behind my eyes.
The air… hell, the air felt thick and still, like it was holding its breath, waiting for something to break loose or tear open.
My scythe hung quiet at my side, but it wasn't really quiet. Not to me. It pulsed—slow, steady like a pulse in the dead of night. Patient. Powerful. Like it was ready to wake the world but waiting on me to say the word.
That voice—the one I never fully shut out—beat in the back of my mind. Not mine. A shadow. A reminder of who I was. Who I am. Who I could become. Not yet. Not now.
The fog curled low at the chamber's edges like it wanted to close in—all the weight of the past trailing behind like a damn storm.
Liora's voice tore through, fragile but sharp. "What happens if we go through?"
I hesitated. My fingers tightened on the scythe's shaft like holding on would hold everything else together.
"We don't just walk through a door in this Tower," I said low and careful. "When that door closes behind us… it's a line you don't cross back over. Nothing stays the same."
Her eyes didn't blink. "I know. But waiting? Waiting's a trap too."
She was damn right.
Sometimes waiting is heavier than any fight.
I nodded and took a breath so slow it felt like drowning. Then I stepped forward. The shimmer of that door flickered—like breath, like the fog itself was waving us in, whispering that we belonged here now.
With every step, the weight in my chest sank deeper. All the mess—regrets, failures, promises I wanted to keep—crushed me a little more. But underneath it, some thread of hope held tight. Maybe hope was just the lie I needed to survive.
I glanced back at Liora. She was steady. Silent. Serious. Not blinking.
"We face it together. No surprises," I said, voice cracking a little.
She nodded.
We crossed the threshold together.
Cold wrapped around us—thick, tight, like the world had swallowed us whole. The shimmer folded over like a quiet pulse sinking into my skin.
Then everything shifted.
The fog's reach faded, replaced by a darkness so thick it felt like stone dragging in my lungs. The ground wasn't stone anymore. It was like looking down into a black mirror veined with faint twisted lights—slow and steady, like a dead heartbeat buried too deep.
We were somewhere else.
Deeper.
Quieter.
All I heard was my heart beating and the scythe's hum, louder here, like it was shaking off a long sleep.
Liora glanced at me, searching. I tried to meet her gaze, but my own eyes were clouded, full of that weight—the one you carry when you know what's coming next and it's worse than you thought.
Then a sound shattered the silence.
Low. Ragged. Too close.
We weren't alone.
Shapes moved in the darkness—edges blurred and eyes empty, staring like they could see through every lie, every mask.
Liora's fingers clenched tight on her knives.
My scythe thrummed with a slow pulse. Like counting down to a storm breaking.
A shadow stepped forward. Not quite human. Not beast either. Something lost in between.
It rasped, voice like dry leaves scraping, "You don't belong here."
Something cold and steady rose in me. Like a tide I couldn't keep back no matter how hard I tried.
My voice stayed low, sharp. "Neither do you."
The fight came fast after that.
Claws hit the air, dark and jagged. Liora moved next to me, blades flashing quick and fierce through the haze.
I swung the scythe in a wide arc. Steel sang against shadow, meeting a shimmer like cold flame.
They howled—slow and circling—but we were a wall back to back.
Power simmered beneath my skin, itching to break free.
But I held it back.
For her.
For the hope that this fight meant more than survival.
The shadows lunged again—faster, sharper. Our blades met them with fierce defiance.
Breath ragged. Heart pounding so loud it filled my ears.
Seconds stretched like a lifetime.
Finally, the last shadow slipped away—melting into mist like a nightmare lost to dawn.
We stood there, raw and breathless.
Liora's voice cracked. "I don't know what you're holding back, Zane… but I want to."
The knot in my throat tightened. "Soon," I promised.
Because this climb isn't over.
Not by half.
And this damn Tower doesn't wait for anyone.
The silence that followed wasn't empty.
It was heavy—full of stories if you listened close.
Stories of fights lost in shadows no one remembers.
Promises broken in quiet rooms where no one came looking.
And a climb that leaves more scars than victories.
I stole a look at Liora. Her jaw was tight, but that fire burned bright—bigger and fiercer than any shadow in this place.
She wasn't just watching the dark corners.
She was watching me.
Trying to see what I was hiding but didn't know how to ask for.
I wanted to tell her everything.
About all those nights haunted by ghosts I thought I buried.
About every step forward feeling like I was sinking deeper into a nightmare I never escaped.
But the words got stuck.
Always.
So I looked down at the scythe resting quiet in my hand.
Cold. Heavy.
Not just a weapon.
A shackle.
A tether.
A reminder that power comes wrapped in pain, and sacrifice.
The hum beneath my fingers slowed.
Steady. Like a breath held, waiting for the right moment.
That small sound held me.
I focused on it. On the moment.
On the here and now.
Liora shifted beside me, blades ready, silent.
For once, neither of us moved first.
The shadows circled slow and patient.
The blur between flesh and mist fading the lines between real and not.
Despite the cold, despite the dark pressing in—
Something burned inside.
A reminder that whatever I'd been before, I still fought to be something more.
The first shadow moved forward again.
Eyes like cracked glass catching the light.
"Don't belong here," it rasps.
I let those words sit heavy inside me.
And then said what it needed.
"Neither do you."
The fight cracked open after that.
Steel clashed with shadow.
Smoke curled tight in the air.
I swung wide.
The scythe sang.
Liora fought like the world depended on it.
Our breaths caught in the silence.
That power inside me throbbed, wild and caged.
But held.
Because this fight… this is only the start.
The last shadow melted into mist.
I dropped to my knees, chest heaving, heart wild.
Liora's voice was a whisper. "What you're hiding… it's bigger than me, isn't it?"
The knot tightened.
But no words came.
Only a promise.
It's coming.
Because this climb… it's far from done.
To be continued.....