Igarashi Shoichi and Kazuma ascended the spiraling stairs once again, the echoes of their footsteps bouncing off the cold stone walls. Shoichi's body still buzzed with the strange new energy that had awakened within him—Void Entropy, a power he barely understood. Each step made him more aware of the pulsing sensation under his skin, reminding him how dangerous it could be if he lost control.
Kazuma, as usual, strode confidently ahead, unconcerned. His strength was straightforward, pure muscle and power, and he didn't seem to share Shoichi's worries. The two had formed an unspoken alliance, and Shoichi found comfort in having someone so steady beside him.
The stairs stretched on, the climb seeming endless until, finally, a dull glow appeared at the top. Kazuma reached the light first, pushing open a heavy iron door that led into a large, open courtyard. Shoichi stepped out after him and found himself squinting under the harsh light of what looked like an artificial sun hanging far above the Tower's second floor.
The courtyard was massive—an arena-like structure made of dark stone, with wide-open space surrounded by towering walls. Shoichi's eyes quickly scanned the area, and his pulse quickened. They weren't alone. Other climbers, at least a dozen, stood in groups or by themselves, each assessing the situation just as cautiously as Shoichi was. Some were tense, others seemingly at ease.
Kazuma whistled low. "Looks like we've got company."
Before Shoichi could respond, a voice boomed from above, similar to the deep voice they had heard in the maze below, but this time it held a sharper, more commanding tone.
"Welcome to the second floor, climbers. This floor's test is one of strength and skill. You will fight, not against this Tower's guardians, but against one another. The victors will ascend. The defeated will remain here until the next cycle. Only those who prove themselves in combat shall unlock their full potential."
Shoichi's heart sank. Fighting other climbers? He glanced at Kazuma, who looked eager, his hands twitching in anticipation.
"Well, this'll be fun," Kazuma said, cracking his knuckles. "You better stay close, Shoichi. This kind of challenge is right up my alley."
Shoichi felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He didn't feel ready. He barely understood his own ability, and now he was expected to fight against other climbers, some of whom looked far more experienced and powerful. But there was no time to back down.
Suddenly, movement from the far end of the courtyard caught Shoichi's eye. A figure stepped forward from the crowd of climbers—a woman with dark hair tied in a tight braid, wearing light armor and gripping a long staff with runes glowing across its length. Her sharp eyes settled on Shoichi, and she approached with calm, measured steps.
"I'm Kishi Utao," she said, her voice cool and confident. "Looks like we're paired up."
Shoichi hesitated, but nodded, feeling the weight of the moment settle over him. His first real fight against another climber.
The moment the fight was declared, Kishi Utao wasted no time. With a graceful spin of her staff, she sent a wave of glowing energy toward Shoichi. He barely had time to react, instinctively ducking under the wave as it passed by, grazing his shoulder with a burning sensation.
Shoichi raised his hand, trying to summon Void Entropy, but his control was still shaky. The air around his fingers shimmered, and the stone beneath his feet began to crack and decay, but the power was weak, unfocused. Kishi Utao didn't hesitate. She closed the distance, her staff swinging down toward him.
He barely dodged, his breath ragged, the weight of the fight already pressing down on him. But something inside him stirred—a force more powerful than the fear or doubt. It felt like the Tower itself was pulling something out of him, something deeper, more primal. His heart raced, his vision blurring, and suddenly, the air around him shifted.
Kishi Utao paused, sensing the change. "What…?"
Shoichi's entire body surged with power, uncontrollable, like a dam breaking. His eyes burned with a blinding white light, and for a moment, it felt as though the world around him was warping, twisting. He could barely feel his own body, but something was moving inside him—something he couldn't control.
Without realizing it, Shoichi began to levitate, his feet lifting off the ground, and the air crackled with energy. Kishi Utao's eyes widened, her calm demeanor faltering for the first time. Shoichi's mouth moved on its own, his voice barely a whisper, but filled with overwhelming power.
"Space Blade."
A sharp crack echoed through the arena, and in an instant, Kishi Utao's left hand was severed, as if an invisible blade had sliced cleanly through it. Her eyes widened in shock, and for the first time, she faltered, stumbling back, clutching the stump of her arm as blood poured onto the arena floor.
"W-What…?" she gasped, her face pale with disbelief. She hadn't even seen the attack.
Shoichi's body hovered higher, glowing with a terrible, otherworldly energy. His expression was blank, his eyes glowing with that blinding white light, as though he was no longer in control. A cold wind began to swirl around him, and the very air seemed to tremble under his presence. The ground around him cracked and warped, and then, without warning, he raised his hand once more.
A storm of translucent blades appeared in the sky above him, hanging ominously in the air like shards of broken glass.
A rain of swords.
The swords, made of some incomprehensible energy, **rained down** from above, slicing through the air toward Kishi Utao. The sheer force of the attack was devastating—half the arena was shattered, debris flying everywhere as the swords sliced through the stone like it was paper.
But Kishi Utao was no ordinary climber. Despite the pain and shock, she kept her composure, dodging with incredible precision, her movements fluid and fast as she weaved through the deadly storm. Each blade that came close was narrowly avoided, her agility saving her life with every step.
Shoichi hovered above, his body glowing brighter, the intensity of the energy around him growing more dangerous by the second. The air itself seemed to vibrate with his presence, but it was clear that this power was beyond his control. He was lost in the chaos, his mind somewhere far from the fight.
As Kishi Utao darted toward him, she saw her chance. With a burst of speed, she closed the gap, leaping toward him with her remaining hand gripping her staff.
"Not bad," she muttered through clenched teeth. Then, with a swift movement, she brought the staff down in a powerful arc, slashing across Shoichi's chest.
The strike landed cleanly, cutting deep into his flesh. Shoichi's glowing eyes dimmed instantly, the power surging through him faltering as he cried out in pain. His body dropped like a stone, crashing to the ground, unconscious and bleeding profusely from his chest wound.
The voice of the Tower echoed through the arena, cutting through the chaos.
"Winner: Kishi Utao."
Kishi Utao staggered back, clutching her bleeding arm. She looked down at Shoichi's unconscious form, her face a mix of relief and caution. She had won the battle, but it was clear Shoichi had barely tapped into the full potential of his terrifying ability.
Shoichi lay motionless on the shattered ground, his life slipping away as blood pooled around him. His breath grew shallow, and his vision dimmed. He felt cold—so cold—and the pain was unbearable.
It was then that the unexpected happened.
A swirling black portal opened in mid-air above the arena, and from it emerged a man, cloaked in a long black coat, his face hidden behind a featureless mask. A katana hung at his waist, and he floated effortlessly above the battlefield, exuding a presence that seemed to warp reality itself.
The climbers and even the Tower administrators froze in shock at the sight of him. He hovered in silence for a moment, surveying the destruction in the arena, his gaze finally landing on Shoichi's broken body.
The man slowly descended from the air, muttering under his breath. "Time Manipulation: Form 3rd—Stop."
In an instant, the entire arena fell into complete stillness. Time itself froze—every climber, every fragment of debris suspended in mid-air, every droplet of blood hanging motionless. The man walked calmly through the frozen world, his steps silent as he approached Shoichi's dying form.
He knelt beside Shoichi and extended his hand, a soft glow emanating from his palm. "You can't die just yet," he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet sorrow. "Not before your journey even begins."
The glow intensified as it enveloped Shoichi, knitting his torn flesh back together and restoring life to his failing body. Shoichi's breathing became steady, the color returning to his face as the wound on his chest closed completely.
The masked man stood, gazing down at Shoichi. He hesitated for a moment, then murmured under his breath, barely audible.
"Brother."
It was Miyasaka Katsu, the leader of Warrior Blood—Shoichi's brother, though Shoichi had no memory of him. Katsu stood over his brother's body, the glow of healing energy fading as Shoichi's wounds sealed completely. For a brief moment, the mask slipped from Katsu's stoic demeanor, and a flicker of emotion passed through his eyes—pain, regret, and an overwhelming protectiveness.
"You can't die yet," Katsu whispered again, his voice low. "There's too much you still don't know."
The world around them remained frozen in time, an eerie calm hanging over the destroyed battlefield. Katsu's gaze swept over the other climbers, still locked in their previous movements, unaware of what had just transpired. He had broken every rule of the Tower by intervening, by freezing time itself, but he didn't care. Not when his brother's life hung in the balance.
Shoichi stirred slightly, unconscious but breathing normally now. Katsu knelt beside him once more, his hand hovering above Shoichi's head. He considered speaking to him—revealing the truth right here and now—but he stopped himself. The time wasn't right.
"You'll understand everything in due time, Igarashi Shoichi. When you're ready," Katsu muttered. "Until then, I can only protect you from the shadows."
With a sigh, Katsu stood up, the weight of the secret between them pressing heavily on his chest. He looked at Shoichi one last time, his eyes softening under the mask. "I'll always be watching, brother. No matter how far you climb."
He turned his back on the still-unconscious Shoichi, his eyes flickering with determination as he walked back toward the center of the arena. Time was still frozen, and no one else had seen him, no one but Shoichi would ever know what had transpired in that brief moment.
Before stepping through the portal to leave, Katsu uttered one final command. "Time Manipulation: Form 3rd—Resume."
Reality snapped back into place. The air shifted, and everything that had been frozen sprang to life—the falling debris continued its descent, the blood dripping from Kishi Utao's severed arm resumed its course, and the distant murmurs of the crowd filled the arena once more. None of them had any idea that time had just been altered.
Shoichi's body lay still on the ground, no longer on the brink of death but unconscious from the strain of the battle. Katsu vanished as quickly as he had come, leaving nothing but silence in his wake.
---
As the dust settled, Kishi Utao, still clutching the stump where her hand had once been, glanced toward Shoichi's form. Her chest heaved, exhaustion lining her features, but there was confusion in her eyes. The wound she had inflicted should have killed him. Yet, there he lay—no blood, no visible injury. He was alive, and not by her doing.
The other climbers were too absorbed in their own recovery from the brutal combat to notice anything amiss. But Kishi Utao knew something strange had occurred.
"He should be dead," she whispered to herself, her eyes narrowing as she stared at Shoichi. "What just happened?"
Before she could investigate further, the same booming voice that had declared her victory echoed throughout the arena once more.
"The trial is complete. Kishi Utao is the victor of this battle. Prepare for the next stage of your climb, climbers."
Kishi exhaled slowly, watching as attendants from the Tower—silent, ghostly figures—entered the arena to remove the injured climbers. They moved swiftly, tending to Shoichi first, lifting him gently onto a stretcher. His chest rose and fell in the steady rhythm of sleep, not a hint of the mortal wound she had inflicted upon him minutes before.
She frowned, glancing at the other climbers, wondering if any of them had noticed the same strange occurrence. But everyone was too tired, too focused on their own survival to question it. Except her.
---
Shoichi drifted in and out of consciousness, the remnants of the battle and his own power's uncontrolled surge swirling in his mind like a dream. In the darkness of his mind, he heard a faint voice, echoing from somewhere distant yet familiar.
"Brother."
His eyes fluttered open for a brief moment, but his vision was blurred, and the world around him was distant, surreal. He thought he saw a figure—a man with a mask, a black coat, and a katana tied to his waist. But before he could focus, the vision slipped away, and he was pulled back into the comforting void of unconsciousness.
---
When Shoichi finally woke, he was lying in a small, quiet room, the soft light of lanterns flickering on the stone walls. His body felt sore, but the searing pain from Kishi's blow was gone. He reached for his chest, expecting to find a deep wound, but instead, his fingers grazed unbroken skin.
His eyes widened in confusion. He should have died.
He remembered the fight, the overwhelming surge of power, and then… nothing. The last thing he recalled was the staff slashing through him, the pain, the light fading. Yet, here he was, alive.
Before he could piece together what had happened, a familiar voice broke through his thoughts.
"You look like hell."
Shoichi turned his head and saw Kazuma standing in the doorway, his usual grin in place, though there was concern in his eyes.
"You really took a beating out there," Kazuma continued, walking into the room and plopping down in a chair next to Shoichi's bed. "Thought I'd lost my climbing partner already. But you're tougher than you look."
Shoichi sat up slowly, wincing as his muscles protested. "How… am I alive?"
Kazuma raised an eyebrow. "You tell me, man. One second you were bleeding out on the ground, and the next, the wound was just gone. No one knows what the hell happened."
Shoichi's mind raced. That brief vision of the man with the mask… it couldn't be real. But something about the word 'brother' echoed in his mind, tugging at a memory just out of reach.
"Maybe I'm just lucky," Shoichi said, though he didn't believe it himself.
Kazuma leaned back, crossing his arms. "Lucky, huh? Well, whatever happened, you've got some powerful allies—or something. Just don't make a habit of dying on me, alright?"
Shoichi gave a weak laugh. "I'll try."
But as Kazuma stood to leave, Shoichi's thoughts remained with the mysterious figure. He couldn't shake the feeling that something—or someone—had saved him. And that whoever they were, they knew far more about him than he knew about himself.
---
Far away, in a hidden chamber within the Tower, Miyasaka Katsu stood alone, gazing out over the endless labyrinth of stone and shadows. His mask remained in place, but beneath it, his eyes held a quiet determination.
"He's not ready yet," Katsu whispered to himself. "But soon… soon you'll understand everything, Shoichi."
He gripped the hilt of his katana tightly, his gaze never wavering.
"I won't let you die before you learn the truth."