Tower 1 — Floor Four, Inner Maw Corridors
The Door of Teeth sealed behind them with a grinding twist—
the sound of bone scraping bone.
No one spoke.
Even Ragnor didn't crack a joke this time.
The corridor ahead was pitch black.
Not dark—lightless.
A darkness so thick it felt physical, pressing on their skin like cold mud.
Lyra whispered:
"…I can't see anything."
Aetherion closed his eyes and extended his cosmic sense.
Nothing.
As if the corridor refused to exist until they stepped into it.
Iris trembled.
"T-this floor is wrong. I can't sense time. I can't sense movement. It feels like… the Tower is holding its breath."
Ragnor frowned.
"Why would it hold its breath?"
Aetherion answered quietly:
"For something inside."
The group moved forward carefully.
And DRM?
He walked without hesitation.
Barefoot steps echoing softly.
Unbothered.
Unafraid.
Almost curious.
Lyra swallowed.
"…DRM seems comfortable here."
Aetherion whispered:
"He walks like this place recognizes him."
The First Encounter — The Whispering Starved
A faint dragging sound echoed through the darkness.
Scrape.
Scrape.
Scrape.
Everyone froze.
Iris covered her ears.
"I can hear them whispering… so many voices…"
Ragnor couldn't hear anything yet.
"What voices?"
Iris's voice cracked.
"H-hungry voices. Begging. Crying. Pleading for food. Some… some of them are screaming inside their own heads."
Lyra's skin crawled.
"What kind of monsters are trapped here?"
Aetherion's eyes widened slightly.
"The ones that failed to evolve. The Tower keeps them alive but starved… so when we enter—"
He didn't finish.
He didn't need to.
Because the darkness in front of them shifted.
Moving.
Crawling.
Dozens of pale arms reached out from the pitch-black void ahead.
Not monster arms.
Human arms.
Thin. Skeletal.
Skin stretched tight over bone.
Fingers trembling.
Nails cracked and broken.
The Starved Ones.
Iris screamed.
Lyra drew her bow.
Ragnor raised his fists.
Aetherion prepared a gravitational pulse.
But then all the crawling arms suddenly—
STOPPED.
Frozen in place.
Lyra blinked.
"…what—?"
Aetherion's breath hitched.
"They're… not looking at us."
The Starved Ones' hollow, empty eyes were all staring at…
DRM.
Dozens of sunken faces turned to him slowly.
Mouths opening.
Jaws cracking.
Not in hunger—
But in terror.
The entire horde recoiled.
A chorus of broken voices whispered:
"Not him…"
"Not again…"
"He'll unmake us…"
"He remembers…"
Ragnor stepped back.
"They're scared of HIM too?!"
Lyra's hands shook around her bowstring.
"These… things… the Tower rejects… even they fear him…"
The Starved Ones crawled backward, retreating into the dark.
Aetherion murmured:
"…it's like he's the only thing they recognize more than hunger."
DRM simply watched them.
Expressionless.
Silent.
Then turned away.
He kept walking.
The Starved parted like a sea of bones, clearing a path.
Deeper Into the Prison
They entered a chamber lit by faint green torches embedded in skulls.
Bones piled in corners.
Scratches on the walls from hands that tried to escape.
Teeth marks on stone.
Chains rattling softly with no one touching them.
Lyra whispered:
"This is a nightmare…"
Iris hugged herself, shaking uncontrollably.
"It's too dark… too cold… too empty…"
Ragnor frowned.
"I thought the Tower was supposed to have floors, not TORTURE DUNGEONS."
Aetherion nodded grimly.
"This is its cruelty. The Tower starves its failures to create monsters shaped by desperation."
Before they could move deeper—
Something ran across the ceiling.
FAST.
A flash of white.
Footsteps like claws on bone.
Aetherion's cosmic sense flared.
"Something's above us!"
Lyra fired instantly—
an arrow of starlight illuminating the ceiling.
Nothing.
Ragnor scowled.
"Great. Another invisible freak—"
Then—
A laugh.
A soft, breathy, chilling laugh.
From the ceiling.
From the walls.
From everywhere.
But this was NOT the whisper of a Starved.
This was sharper.
Smarter.
Alive.
Like a child playing hide-and-seek with death itself.
Iris whispered:
"…it's here again."
Ragnor's eyes widened.
"That presence from before?"
Lyra's heartbeat spiked.
"It followed us…"
Aetherion's voice dropped low.
"No. It was waiting for us."
The laugh echoed again—
closer this time.
Too close.
Lyra aimed upward.
"What IS it?!"
DRM finally reacted.
Only slightly.
He turned his head toward the sound.
But not with fear.
With familiarity.
Ragnor whispered:
"…he knows who it is."
The laugh abruptly stopped.
Dead silence.
Then a faint whisper—
from high above—
"Found you…"
Lyra froze.
"That's not DRM's voice."
Iris grabbed Aetherion's sleeve.
"T-that wasn't a monster… that was a boy."
Aetherion nodded slowly.
"A young one. Human. Maybe."
Ragnor snarled.
"Then show yourself, coward!"
Instead of showing itself—
It stepped backward into deeper darkness, leaving only the final whisper:
"…see you later…"
And vanished.
Iris collapsed to the floor in panic.
Lyra helped her up.
"That wasn't a monster. It felt too… intelligent."
Aetherion's jaw tightened.
"It wasn't a Starved One."
Ragnor frowned.
"Then what was it?"
Aetherion looked at DRM.
DRM stared quietly into the pitch-black corridor where the voice disappeared.
Aetherion whispered:
"…someone like him."
The survivors felt a chill.
Because that laugh—
that aura—
that presence—
was ***********,
watching from the shadows,
smiling,
studying,
choosing when to reveal himself.
Not yet.
Not fully.
But soon.
Very soon.
DRM turned back to the group.
And continued walking.
Floor Four had only begun.
And so had ****** hunt.