The transition into the Tower felt like it was a dilation of reality itself.

  One moment I was standing on the windswept ridge overlooking the Nexus of Delta-27, the twilight deepening around the Dweorg forges that vented orange smoke into the darkening sky. The wind tasted of sulfur and anticipation. The next, the world had stretched. The horizon vanished, replaced by an internal geography that defied standard Euclidean dimensions.

  I stood on a platform of smooth, glassy obsidian that reflected nothing. Above me, there was no sky, only a cavern roof so high it had its own weather systems. Phosphorescent clouds, glowing with a sickly green ionization, drifted miles overhead, casting a pale, dreamlike light on the landscape below. It was like standing inside a hollow planet where the sun had been replaced by chemistry.

  I looked around. The space was immense. Easily thousands of miles of walkable terrain. The air was heavy, rich with mana that tasted of iron, ancient soil, and raw, unrefined potential. It hummed with energy — the energy of a newly forged world waiting to be shaped.

  And I wasn’t alone.

  When entering the Tower, I realized that I just had to be in the vicinity and wish to teleport in and would be granted access from a significantly large radius. We did not need to enter the gate itself, probably to discourage others from “gatekeeping” a tower and preventing others from entry.

  In the distance, hundreds of miles away in every cardinal direction, massive pillars of blue light punched down from the cavern roof like divine spotlights. Within each pillar, figures were materializing — specks of dust against the scale of the room.

  I watched as a group of Dweorg materialized in the south, their heavy plate armor clanking even at this distance, axes glinting in the pale light. A human squad appeared in the west, shields locked in a phalanx formation, moving with disciplined precision. The Tower was populating itself with thousands of aspirants simultaneously. But just the thought of entering within ten kilometers of the physical gate outside had teleported them inside instantly, negating any chokepoint strategy Warlords might have tried to impose. It was a mass migration.

  “Status check,” I projected over the comms-link, which buzzed with static before stabilizing.

  “Entering the Tower,” Rexxar’s voice boomed, slightly distorted but filled with joy. “It is a swamp! The trees are as tall as mountains, rooted in black water! The mud smells of old blood and glorious combat! The beasts here are huge, crocodilian things with mana-infused scales! My Claymore is vibrating with anticipation!”

  “Tower Beta is… crystalline,” Nyx reported, her voice hushed, the sound of her daggers slicing air in the background. “Mirror maze. Visibility is low.

  Silence absolute. Every reflection moves independently. It is disorienting. Shadows behave incorrectly here. But my daggers love the light.”

  “Gamma is a type of foundry,” Lucas said, the clang of metal audible in the background. “Magma rivers flowing uphill. Clockwork enemies that reassemble when shattered. Heat shielding is mandatory. The Wyverns are enjoying the thermals, but the soot is clogging the vents.”

  “Delta is filled with ice,” Freja shivered over the link. “A vertical glacier. We are climbing frozen waterfalls. The wind bites through thermal wards. Astrid just froze a Yeti mid-jump.”

  “So they’re very different,” I realized, analyzing the pattern as I surveyed my own rock-filled horizon. “Each Tower reflects a different biome or concept related to its resources. My Tower… looks like the deep crust. A geological wonderland. We have to double check but I am guessing the theme is consistent throughout the floors yet varies wildly between locations. The System is providing specialized economies to encourage trade.”

  I scanned my surroundings. It was a subterranean expanse of jagged beauty. Forests of stalagmites grew like petrified redwoods, their tips lost in the gloom. Rivers of liquid mercury cut through plains of glittering quartz, moving sluggishly. Geodes the size of city blocks lay cracked open, revealing interiors of humming crystal that sang when the wind hit them. It was a world built for mining, for construction, for durability.

  “Teleportation mechanic confirmed,” Jeeves noted from Bastion, his voice a comforting anchor. “Your localized signal shifted coordinates instantly. You didn’t walk in; the System pulled you. A democratic entry for anyone brave enough to verify intent.”

  A blue box unfurled before me, crisp and authoritative.

  [SYSTEM QUERY: IDENTITY REGISTRATION]

  [Please state your Designation for the Coronation Leaderboard.]

  [Note: Designations are global and cannot be altered until the Event concludes.]

  I paused. The instinct to hide flared. To be the ‘Anomaly’ or ‘Valen’. To stay in the shadows. But then I thought of the refugees. Of the fear in their eyes. They didn’t need a ghost. They needed a banner. They needed to know the strongest person on the planet was fighting for them.

  “Eren,” I said clearly.

  [Registered: EREN.]

  [FLOOR 1: THE CRUST]

  [Objective: Locate the Ascent. Find the gate leading to the second floor.]

  Simple. Vague. Classic System.

  I expanded my [Void Perception], dialing it up to scan for minute changes in the mana currents rather than visible build up.

  To a normal eye, the cavern was chaos. To me, it was a map of density. I saw the heat signatures of monsters — rock-crabs with shells of granite scuttling in herds, crystalline spiders weaving webs of glass between spires, minor earth elementals rising from the mud like golems. They ranged from Tier 1 to Tier 3. Fodder for the average aspirant, but dangerous in swarms due to their sheer durability.

  Stolen story; please report.

  But I wasn’t looking for fights. I was looking for the exit.

  I scanned the mana currents. Gravity usually pulls down. But in a tower designed to ascend, the flow should be reversed at the key point.

  Five hundred miles to the north-east, deep in a cluster of obsidian spires that looked like a giant hand reaching for the roof, the gravity strings were vibrating. An updraft of pure force.

  I grinned.

  “Found it.”

  I engaged [Void Walk].

  I didn’t run; I flickered. I crossed five hundred miles in seconds, appearing and disappearing along the ley-lines. To an observer, I would have looked like a strobe light moving through the dark. I moved through a herd of rock-bison without disturbing a pebble.

  I reached the obsidian cluster. In the center, a platform of light waited, pulsing gently.

  I stepped onto it.

  [FLOOR 1 COMPLETE.]

  The world dissolved into light.

  [Floor 2: The Vein.]

  A labyrinth of narrow, winding tunnels lined with glowing ore. The air here was hot, smelling of copper and sulfur.

  [Objective: Locate 3 Heart-Stones.]

  I didn’t search with eyes. I instead entered the Void. My Void Perception, mixed with the [Void-Star’s Hunger] senses instantly found the high-density mana of the required items. They stood out like bonfires in the dark.

  I didn’t navigate the maze. I ate the walls. Literally. I walked in a straight line through the rock, consuming the barriers with the Hunger, turning the stone into mana to refuel my own reserves. I grabbed the stones, glowing red gems the size of fists.

  Floor 3 was called The Guardian’s Pit.

  A circular arena of packed dirt. A Tier 4 Earth-Drake guarded the door. It was armored in diamond plating, radiating a heavy, crushing aura.

  I landed in the pit. The Drake roared, summoning stone spikes from the ground.

  I raised a hand. [Apex Mana Authority: Gravity Crush].

  I increased the gravity around the Drake by a factor of fifty.

  It flattened instantly. Its armor shattered.

  “Next.”

  Floors 4 through 10 were a blur of resource collection and minor combat. Collect ten Essence-shards. Kill twenty Crystal-Bats. Navigate the canyon of winds where sound could cut flesh.

  I noticed a mechanic on Floor 4. Another contestant materialized near me — a Dweorg warrior I recognized from the Delta-27 tavern.

  A group of rock-beetles spawned instantly around him. My beetles were already dead.

  “Instanced encounters,” I analyzed. “The System reanimates the challenge for each participant. If a person kills a mob, it stays dead for them, but respawns for the next. But the loot...”

  I crushed a beetle with a thought. No core. It dissolved into light.

  “No harvest,” I muttered. “I am assuming this is only restricted for the Event, since these towers are supposed to be the source of our growth. Prevents looting sprees and keeps the focus on climbing speed. Smart.”

  “It forces cooperation — or conquest,” Arthur noted. “If you want resources, you have to win the tower, then farm it later.”

  I cleared Floor 10. A logic puzzle involving shifting bridges over a chasm of endless falling. I brute-forced it by freezing the bridges with time-stasis.

  Floor 11.

  “Status?” I checked the comms.

  “Floor 4,” Anna grunted. “Time-dilated spiders. Annoying. But my arrows always find home. We are moving slower but steadily. The locals are watching.”

  “Floor 2,” Lucas reported. “This lava is hot. Silas tried to fly the wyvern but the heat plumes grounded us. We’re proceeding on foot. We have teamed up with a local smith-clan.”

  “Floor 5,” Nyx whispered. “Mapping complete. The reflections lie. You have to walk into the mirror.”

  “I’m hitting Floor 12,” I said. “Speeding up. Be careful, the difficulty curve is a bit steep. Take your time but ensure you secure your lead.”

  I stepped out of the Floor 11 entrance.

  Floor 12: The Geode.

  It was beautiful. A hollow sphere miles wide, lined with amethyst crystals the size of skyscrapers. The only way up was to jump between the crystals suspended in zero-gravity. The air shimmered with refractory light.

  “Parkour,” I muttered.

  I didn’t jump. I flew.

  I wrapped myself in the Hunger to eat the air resistance and blasted toward the exit portal at the zenith of the sphere.

  Tier 4 monsters — Geode Gargoyles — swarmed from the walls. Hundreds of them. They looked like statues come to life, wings of razor-stone that caught the purple light.

  I didn’t stop. I expanded my [Apex Mana Authority].

  “Down,” I ordered.

  Gravity returned to the zero-G zone, but only for the gargoyles. They plummeted, smashing into the crystal walls below with the sound of breaking chandeliers. The rain of shattered stone echoed in the vast emptiness.

  I hit the exit.

  [Floor 12 Complete.]

  I stood on the platform of Floor 13. The floor was covered in shifting sand dunes made of pulverized diamond.

  I checked the Leaderboard projected by the System. It showed Towers Held, which basically indicated which person was on the highest floor, for now. Currently, a list of ones. Everyone was starting their first tower.

  [CURRENT RANKINGS FOR GLOBAL TOWERS HELD:]

  I. EREN (Void Star) - 1

  II. KORG (Iron Covenant) - 1

  III. AZRAEL (The Pale Dominion) - 1

  IV. LADY SOL (Solar Ascendancy) - 1

  V. THE DRIFTER (The Pale Dominion) - 1

  VI. REXXAR (Void Star) - 1

  VII. ELDER THORNE (The Root-Kings) - 1

  VIII. SYREN (Azure Syndicate) - 1

  IX. ANNA (Void Star) - 1

  X. ANONYMOUS (ANON) - 1

  Azrael. Korg. Lady Sol. The heavy hitters were moving.

  “When exactly did we decide on the Void Star?” I frowned. “Is the System making up names for our factions? Also, Azrael has two towers already… Necromancers are a cheat. He probably sent undead minions to trigger all the traps and just swarmed the tower.”

  “It is within reason,” Jeeves noted. “He has the capacity to move his minions in multiple directions simultaneously, effectively mapping his tower faster. Korg likely brute forced it with kinetic artillery. And I am unable to determine why the System chose that name for your Faction, Master, perhaps you can change it?”

  “We can leave it for now, it’s not like our enemies wouldn’t already know of my Void Affinity. And The Drifter?” I asked, eyeing the name. “I thought Azrael was working solo. An unknown at rank 5? Can a minion of his hold a spot? Do we know who could be working with him?”

  “No data,” Jeeves said. “A wild card.”

  “Well, I just have to speed up,” I said. “Less observing. More climbing. I’m at Tier 7, so these floors are easy. I need 19 towers, time to get going.”

  I stepped into the darkness of Floor 13.

  The race was on, and I intended to lap them before they even realized the gun had fired.