Eren sat in the Phantom Gate's dim glow, his back pressed against the cold metallic wall. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of energy running through its systems. His hands trembled slightly as he held the small ration bar he'd purchased earlier. It tasted the same as always—bland, dry, and faintly metallic—but tonight, even that was hard to stomach.
He'd been climbing for what felt like weeks, pushing through floor after floor, each more bizarre and perilous than the last. The Tower had given him little time to process any of it. Now, as he stared at the glowing symbols on the Gate's console, a sharp pang of doubt gripped him.
"What am I even doing here?" he muttered under his breath, his voice cracking slightly. The words echoed faintly in the chamber, as if mocking him.
The thought hit him like a wave, drowning him in uncertainty. Was there even an end to this Tower? He thought about the monsters, the traps, the puzzles. About the Phantom Gate and its impersonal rewards. It all felt so… artificial. Like a cruel game designed to test him in ways he didn't understand.
He ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the strands. "This isn't normal. None of this is normal. I shouldn't even be here."
His breathing grew heavier as memories of his first trial flashed through his mind—the towering beast, the blood on his hands, the desperation to survive. Then came the moments of crafting, of piecing together weapons and tools just to make it one more step forward.
But now? He wasn't sure if he could take another step.
His eyes flicked toward the glowing crystal he'd stored on the console earlier. Its soft iridescence danced across the walls, reminding him of the fleeting hope he'd felt when he first analyzed it. That hope felt distant now.
"I'm just… nobody," he said aloud, his voice breaking. "A mistake. A flux."
The word sat heavy on his tongue, though he didn't fully understand what it meant. The Tower's system had called him that—flux. An anomaly. Someone who didn't belong.
The thought tore at him. Did the Tower think he was unworthy? Was it all some cosmic joke, a punishment for something he couldn't even comprehend?
His fists clenched, nails digging into his palms as tears welled up in his eyes. "I didn't ask for this!" he shouted, his voice reverberating through the empty chamber. "I didn't—"
The sound of his own voice startled him, and he fell silent. The quiet that followed was deafening, pressing down on him like a weight he couldn't escape.
After a long moment, Eren buried his face in his hands. The sobs came quietly at first, then harder, shaking his entire body. He felt small, insignificant—a speck in a universe that didn't care whether he lived or died.
Minutes passed, maybe hours. He couldn't tell anymore. Eventually, the tears slowed, leaving him drained and empty.
And yet, amidst the silence, a thought pushed through the despair: I'm still here.
He lifted his head, wiping his face with the back of his hand. His eyes burned, but there was a flicker of something in them now—a tiny ember of determination that refused to be snuffed out.
The Tower had taken so much from him already. His sense of normalcy, his comfort, his peace of mind. But it hadn't taken his will to survive. Not yet.
Eren pushed himself to his feet, his legs unsteady beneath him. He walked to the console, staring at the list of options. He didn't know what the next trial would bring, but he would face it. He had to.
As he prepared for the next floor, the console chimed softly, and a message appeared:
"Resilience Detected: Emotional Threshold Exceeded. Initiating Title Assignment…"
The text shifted, glowing brighter for a moment before a single word appeared.
Title Earned: Survivor
You have withstood despair and refused to yield. This title grants a minor increase to mental fortitude.
Eren stared at the words, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. It wasn't much, but it was something. A sign that the Tower recognized his struggle, even if it didn't care about his suffering.
He tightened his grip on the knife at his side, the familiar hum of mana coursing through its blade. "Alright," he said quietly. "Let's see what you've got next."
The door to the next floor slid open, and Eren stepped forward, the ember in his heart slowly growing into a flame.