A blinding light faded from Levi's eyes, replaced by a whispering wind and the creak of stone.
He blinked hard.
What stretched before him wasn't the world he knew.
Crumbled walls wrapped around a circular courtyard—the Lobby. Vines hung like snakes from cracked arches, and sunlight spilled through the holes of a roof that had long collapsed. The air smelled of dust and moss, thick and heavy with silence.
All around him, fifteen strangers struggled to find their footing, groaning and looking around in disbelief.
A woman in tattered linen muttered, "Is... is this Nordia?"
A man answered, "No village looks like this..."
At the far side of the hall, a massive iron gate loomed—sealed shut by golden chains that glowed faintly, as if alive. Beyond it, mist swirled like a breathing beast.
Nearer to them, a round crystal platform hummed quietly, faint blue energy running through its veins—the Synthesis Chamber. Beside it stood a small wooden house, its roof intact, weapons and supplies barely visible through the dusty windows.
The place felt alive... yet abandoned. Like someone had left in a hurry—centuries ago.
The Girl Called Luna
"Everyone, please stay calm."
The voice was small, almost musical.
They turned to see a silver-haired girl no older than twelve, standing barefoot atop a cracked stair. Her golden eyes glowed faintly beneath the ruined arch, and her white dress fluttered in the stale breeze.
"My name is Luna," she said softly, bowing her head. "And I am the one who brought you all here—by the will of my Lord."
Murmurs spread like wildfire.
"Your Lord?"
"What do you mean you brought us?"
"Send us back!"
Only one man stepped forward with confidence—a burly mercenary in patched armor, a small sword at his hip. The others looked like farmers and shopkeepers, but he radiated arrogance.
"So you're the brat behind this mess?" he growled. "You think this is a game? Send us home before I—"
Luna tilted her head. "Before you what?"
He drew his sword with a snarl. "Before I shut that mouth of yours!"
The moment he lunged, Luna sighed—a delicate, tired breath—and simply waved her hand.
A thin silver arc cut through the air.
The mercenary froze mid-stride, eyes widening as a red line blossomed across his throat. He dropped, sword clattering beside him. The sound echoed through the hall like a bell toll.
Luna blinked once. "Hostile intent detected," she said flatly. "Self-defense protocol executed."
Nobody spoke. Nobody even breathed.
"Now," she continued, brushing invisible dust from her skirt, "we can begin."
Groups of the Lost
"You have all been summoned as Heroes," Luna explained, her voice serene amid the shock. "This Lobby will be your resting ground. That—" she gestured toward the massive gate—"leads to the Tower. Each floor must be cleared. Survive, and you may live another day."
Her words dropped like stones.
Levi's mind raced.
A Tower? Floors? Survive?
Luna began to read from a glowing scroll that appeared in her hand. "You will be divided into three groups. Each will enter the Tower when the Lord commands."
She called the first ten names quickly, splitting the survivors into two teams of five. Their faces were pale, eyes darting toward the body still cooling on the ground.
Finally, she read the last list.
"Levi, Freya, Steave, Kai, Rowan. Group Three."
The five exchanged uncertain glances.
Levi—dark hair, calm expression hiding confusion. Nineteen years old, claiming to be a driver from Nordia.
Freya—seventeen, slender and sharp-eyed, the daughter of a hunter.
Rowan—broad-shouldered farmer, mid-twenties, built like an ox.
Kai—nervous shopkeeper, lanky, sweat already dotting his temples.
And Steave—the oldest, thirty, a baker by trade with rough hands and a skeptical stare.
They gathered before Luna.
Levi stepped forward. "You want us to go into that thing unarmed?" He pointed toward the chained gate. "That's suicide."
Luna blinked, then smiled faintly. "Oh. Weapons. I nearly forgot."
She snapped her fingers.
The door of the storage house creaked open, light spilling from within. Inside hung swords, axes, bows, and shields neatly displayed as if awaiting them.
"Choose what suits you," Luna said. "Each hero may take one weapon."
Kai stammered, "This... this can't be happening."
Levi muttered under his breath, "If you want to live, fight."
Reluctantly, they stepped forward.
Rowan grabbed a heavy axe, fingers curling around it like a plow handle.
Kai picked a short sword, testing its weight with shaking hands.
Steave took a worn mace, nodding to himself.
Freya found a bow that felt familiar, the string taut and smooth.
And Levi reached for a simple steel sword and shield, balanced, plain—but he held them like someone who knew exactly what he was doing.
Luna watched him curiously. "You've done this before, haven't you?"
Levi's lips twitched. "Something like that."
The Gate of Trials
"Group One," Luna called.
The iron gate rumbled. Golden chains uncoiled like serpents, and a blue portal shimmered to life between the pillars. Wind from the other side carried the scent of damp earth and something foul.
"Clear the First Floor," Luna said. "And return."
The five from Group One stepped in and vanished.
Minutes passed. The light in the portal flickered—then turned blood-red.
Screams burst out, muffled through the mist, and crimson sprayed against the ground before the gate sealed shut again.
Silence.
Luna's face remained neutral. "Group Two."
"No!" someone shouted, but the portal had already reopened. The next group stumbled forward, driven by invisible force. Their cries echoed—then died as the portal blinked dark.
Only five remained.
Freya's voice trembled. "We'll die just like them..."
Luna's golden eyes turned to Levi's group. "Group Three."
Kai shook his head violently. "I'm not going in there!"
Before he could run, Luna's eyes flashed. "The Lord commands it."
The floor beneath their feet glowed, and in a blink, they were gone.
The First Floor
They landed hard on wet soil.
Ruined walls surrounded them again, but this time under a crimson sky. The air reeked of rot. From the fog ahead came shrill, guttural shrieks—goblins, dozens of them, crawling out with crude daggers in hand.
Kai stumbled back, screaming.
A faint blue window appeared before Levi's eyes.
[System Message]
Kai is in fear. All stats –25 %.
Levi blinked. What the hell...?
He looked around—none of the others reacted.
So only I can see this...
A goblin charged. Levi's body moved on instinct. Shield up, sword raised, parry—slash—clean, efficient. The creature dropped with a shriek.
Freya gasped. "You... you've fought before!"
"Focus," Levi snapped. "Aim and shoot!"
She obeyed, letting an arrow fly—it pierced a goblin's throat.
Rowan swung his axe but missed, falling backward. Steave swung his mace wildly. Kai tried to run—but smacked straight into an unseen barrier.
[System Message]
Escape Detected. Subject Returned to Combat Zone.
The barrier pulsed, flinging him back toward the goblins.
They descended.
Kai's scream cut short.
Steave tried to help, but was dragged down next.
Rowan's shout ended in silence.
Levi grit his teeth, cutting through the swarm. "Freya—cover fire!"
Arrows whistled. One struck clean. Two missed. Another goblin lunged—Levi raised his shield, blocked, and stabbed upward, ending it.
Minutes later, the last monster fell, twitching in the dirt.
Only two stood breathing.
Freya fell to her knees, shaking. Levi's chest heaved, his sword and shield splattered with green blood.
The air shimmered—and the world folded back into light.
Back to the Lobby
They were standing again in the ruined hall. The air was still, the faint hum of magic lingering where the portal had been moments ago. The gate sealed once more, its golden chains curling back into place as if nothing had happened.
At first Levi only noticed the silence. Then he felt it—the sudden absence of pain. His muscles that had burned with effort were cool and steady. The pinpricks of blood along his arms were gone. Freya's hands, which had trembled and bled, were steady and clean in an instant.
Luna watched them, expression unreadable.
"The Lobby heals those who return," she said calmly, as if reciting a rule. "Wounds and illnesses are cured here—no matter how deep the injury or how grave the disease was—so long as you cleared the floor and made it back. Consider it the Lord's mercy."
Freya blinked, looking down at her hands. "Even... even if someone had a sickness?"
Luna nodded once. "Even that. Pain removed. Disease cleansed. You will feel as if nothing ever happened."
Levi swallowed. The idea sat heavy in his chest—comfort wrapped in cruelty. People could return from deathly wounds whole again, but that mercy only came to those who survived the floor. Those who did not... did not return at all.
"Congratulations," Luna added softly. "You cleared the First Floor. The Lord will be pleased."
Freya stared at her, eyes wide. "All those people... gone."
Luna tilted her head. "They were weak. Strength decides survival."
Her words hit harder than the battle.
Before disappearing, she added softly, "Rest. The next command will come soon."
And then she was gone.
Between Two Worlds
Silence filled the Lobby again—the kind that crawled into your ears.
Freya finally spoke, voice fragile. "You said you were a driver before coming here, right? You don't act like one. You fight like you've done this before."
Levi looked away, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips. He didn't answer her aloud.
Inside his head, thoughts burned quietly.
Me... I am ODIN—the 3rd Ranker of the game we're trapped in...
Be a God of Destruction or Creation (G.O.D.O.C).
But how did I end up here?
He tightened his grip on his sword and shield, the faint blue light from the sealed gate glimmering in his eyes.
The Tower waited.
And somewhere beyond that gate... the truth.