Rainey left the safe zone behind, the chamber's soft glow fading into the distance as he descended into another corridor. The air was colder now, more oppressive, and the tension from his encounter with the other climbers still lingered. For the first time since entering the tower, he wasn't sure what was more dangerous—the trials ahead or the people within the tower.
Factions. Power. Alliances. The words echoed in his mind, stirring a mix of frustration and unease. He had always thought the tower was a straightforward climb—a test of strength, endurance, and survival. Now, it was becoming clear that it was much more than that. He wasn't just battling the tower's trials; he was stepping into a political warzone.
Rainey gritted his teeth, shaking off the thoughts. "I don't need them," he muttered to himself. "I've made it this far on my own. I'll keep going."
Still, the man's warning stuck with him. The higher he climbed, the more eyes would be on him. The higher floors wouldn't just be trials—they'd be battlefields of competing interests, where climbers would fight not only for survival but for control of the tower itself.
As he moved deeper into the corridor, Rainey noticed a subtle change in the environment. The stone walls were etched with unfamiliar runes, faintly glowing with a pale blue light. The energy in the air was thicker here, pulsing like a heartbeat. Every step he took felt heavier, as if the tower itself was weighing him down.
He was approaching something significant—something dangerous.
The corridor eventually opened into another chamber, but this one was different from the others. The floor was covered in a strange, reflective surface, almost like glass, and in the center of the room stood a towering figure cloaked in shadows. Its form was indistinct, shifting like smoke, but Rainey could feel its presence—dark, ancient, and powerful.
A guardian? Rainey wondered, his hand instinctively tightening around the hilt of his sword. He had faced beasts and shadowy creatures before, but this was something else. The energy radiating from the figure was oppressive, almost suffocating.
As Rainey stepped closer, the figure turned toward him, its eyes glowing faintly beneath the dark shroud. It didn't attack, didn't move aggressively. Instead, a message appeared before Rainey, floating in the air just above the figure's head.
"Trial of Ascendancy: Prove Your Right to Climb."
Rainey's breath caught in his throat. Ascendancy? Right to climb? The words didn't make sense, but there was no time to dwell on them. The figure slowly began to advance, its presence growing more intense with every step.
Without hesitation, Rainey drew his sword, his muscles tense as he prepared for the trial to begin. He had no idea what this creature was or what it wanted, but he knew one thing—he wasn't going to back down.
The figure stopped, its form rippling like smoke as it raised one hand. Rainey braced himself for an attack, but what happened next was nothing like he expected. The figure didn't lash out with force or power—it simply pointed at him.
Rainey blinked, confused. "What—"
Before he could finish the thought, the reflective floor beneath him began to shift. His reflection, once clear and still, rippled like water—and then, to his shock, it began to rise. Another version of him, a mirror image, slowly pulled itself from the surface of the floor.
Another reflection? Rainey's heart raced as he stared at the second version of himself. He had faced a reflection before, in the Trial of Resolve, but this one felt different. There was no internal struggle this time—this was something external, something far more sinister.
The reflection's eyes locked onto Rainey's, but instead of the cold, emotionless gaze of the last trial, this one's eyes burned with intensity. It felt alive, aware—more than just a copy. It was a challenger.
The reflection moved first, lunging at Rainey with startling speed. Rainey barely managed to raise his sword in time, the impact sending a shockwave through his body. His reflection was strong—too strong. It moved with a precision and power that felt unnatural, like the tower itself was empowering it.
Rainey gritted his teeth, pushing back against the reflection's blade. His mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening. Why another reflection? Why now?
The reflection pressed the attack, its movements fluid and relentless. Rainey blocked strike after strike, but he was quickly being forced on the defensive. His reflection didn't tire, didn't hesitate—it was a perfect fighter, mirroring all of Rainey's strengths but without any of his doubts or fears.
"You're just a copy," Rainey muttered through clenched teeth, his frustration mounting. "You're not me."
But the reflection didn't respond. It didn't need to. Its actions spoke louder than words—every strike was designed to break Rainey down, to push him past his limits.
Rainey's arms ached from the constant barrage of attacks, and his movements were growing slower, more desperate. He couldn't keep this up. The reflection was overpowering him, and if he didn't find a way to turn the tide, he would lose this fight.
The realization hit him hard. He was losing—not just to the reflection, but to himself. The reflection represented everything he feared—the version of him that was perfect, unflawed, and unbeatable. Rainey, on the other hand, was weighed down by his doubts, his confusion about his past, his uncertainty about the tower.
He couldn't win if he kept fighting like this. He needed to stop viewing the reflection as an unbeatable enemy and start seeing it for what it was—his own potential.
Rainey took a deep breath, centering himself. He had faced his reflection before and come out victorious, not by overpowering it, but by accepting it. This was no different. This trial wasn't about strength alone—it was about understanding his own limitations and pushing past them.
The next time the reflection attacked, Rainey didn't block it directly. Instead, he sidestepped, using the reflection's momentum against it. The reflection stumbled, and in that brief moment of imbalance, Rainey saw his opening.
With a swift, decisive strike, Rainey slashed at the reflection's side. The blade connected, and for the first time, the reflection faltered. Its form rippled, destabilizing as it struggled to maintain its shape.
Rainey didn't hesitate. He pressed the attack, each strike more precise than the last. The reflection tried to counter, but Rainey had found his rhythm. He wasn't fighting the reflection as an enemy anymore—he was fighting it as part of himself.
With one final, powerful blow, Rainey drove his sword through the reflection's chest. The reflection let out a low, distorted sound, its form flickering like a dying flame before it dissolved into nothingness.
Rainey stood there, breathing heavily, his sword still raised. The trial was over, but the weight of it lingered. This wasn't just another battle—it was a reminder of the internal struggle he would always face, the fight against his own doubts and fears.
A new message appeared before him.
"Trial of Ascendancy Complete. Tutorial Progress: 70%."
Rainey let out a slow breath. He was making progress—70% now—but there was still so much ahead of him. And the higher he climbed, the more difficult the trials would become.
The figure in the chamber had vanished, leaving only the eerie silence in its wake. Another passage opened ahead, leading deeper into the tower. Rainey sheathed his sword and moved forward, his mind still reeling from the fight.
I'll keep climbing. No matter what.
But as he stepped into the new passage, Rainey couldn't shake the feeling that the next trial would be even more difficult—and that the true challenge was still waiting for him, somewhere at the top of the tower.