The staircase ended abruptly at a narrow platform, the door to the sixth trial looming before Dominic and Sincerity. It pulsed faintly with an ominous energy, its surface darker than the void surrounding the Tower itself.
Dominic placed his hand on the door, glancing at Sincerity. "Ready?"
She nodded, her grip tightening on her daggers. "Always."
The door slid open, revealing an expanse of total darkness. As they stepped inside, the door vanished behind them, leaving only an oppressive void. The air was thick, almost suffocating, and the silence pressed down on them like a physical weight.
Then came the noise.
A low, maddening white noise began to fill the chamber, starting as a faint hum but quickly escalating into a cacophony of overlapping whispers and static. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, burrowing into their ears and minds like a swarm of invisible insects.
Dominic clapped his hands over his ears, gritting his teeth. "What the hell is this?"
"I don't know," Sincerity shouted back, her voice barely audible over the rising din. "But it's getting worse!"
The darkness around them was absolute, so thick that even the faint glow of Dominic's sword was swallowed entirely. He waved a hand in front of his face but saw nothing.
"We can't see," he said, his voice strained. "And this noise... it's trying to get into my head."
The white noise shifted, forming words that were faint but distinct, like voices just out of reach.
"They will abandon you. You are alone. You are nothing."
Dominic shook his head violently, trying to drown out the whispers. "It's lying," he muttered, more to himself than to Sincerity.
"Stay with me!" Sincerity called, though her voice was distant now, as if the darkness itself was pulling them apart.
The noise grew louder, the voices blending into a relentless wall of sound. Dominic stumbled, his equilibrium failing as the floor seemed to shift beneath him. His breathing quickened, panic clawing at his chest.
"Sincerity!" he shouted, but his voice felt small, insignificant against the oppressive noise.
"Dominic!" Her voice was faint, swallowed almost entirely by the sound.
The system's mocking tone cut through the static.
"You can't rely on each other here. You cannot see. You cannot hear. You will fail."
Dominic forced himself to stand, his hands outstretched as he tried to find something—anything—in the darkness. The noise clawed at his mind, distorting his thoughts and making it harder to focus.
Sincerity gritted her teeth, her hands gripping her daggers so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She moved cautiously, her ears straining to pick up any sound besides the maddening noise.
"Dominic!" she shouted again, her voice hoarse.
The system responded instead, its tone dripping with malice.
"He cannot hear you. He is lost. You are alone, just as you have always been."
"Shut up!" she screamed, slashing blindly into the darkness. The movement gave her something to focus on, a small anchor against the chaos, but the noise only grew louder.
Dominic stumbled again, falling to his knees. His breathing was ragged, his thoughts a whirlwind of fear and doubt. But then he remembered Sincerity's voice, the steadiness in her tone when she had reassured him after the last trial.
He closed his eyes, focusing on the memory of her words. "You're not alone," he whispered to himself.
Sincerity, too, fought to anchor herself. She thought of Dominic's determination, his refusal to give up even in the face of impossible odds.
The noise didn't stop, but they both began to move—slowly, cautiously—through the oppressive darkness.
"Sincerity!" Dominic called again, his voice stronger this time.
"Dominic!" Her voice was closer now, cutting through the static like a lifeline.
They reached out blindly, their hands finally finding each other in the darkness.
The moment their hands touched, the noise faltered, the whispers stuttering as if in shock. The system's voice returned, but it was strained, almost panicked.
"Impossible. You cannot... This cannot..."
Dominic grinned despite the suffocating darkness. "Guess we're full of surprises."
Sincerity squeezed his hand. "What now?"
"We keep moving," Dominic said. "Together."
They pressed forward, using their bond as a guide. Each step felt like a victory, the noise growing more disjointed and the oppressive darkness less absolute.
After what felt like an eternity, a faint light appeared in the distance, growing brighter with each step. The noise faded, replaced by a profound silence that felt almost sacred.
As they reached the light, the room shifted back into focus, revealing the staircase to the seventh floor.
The system's voice returned, but it was weaker now, its tone laced with frustration.
"Trial complete. Proceed."
Dominic and Sincerity collapsed onto the staircase, their breaths ragged. The silence around them felt surreal after the relentless noise of the trial.
"That was... worse than the others," Sincerity said, her voice hoarse.
Dominic nodded, his hand still gripping hers tightly. "It's trying harder. It knows we're close."
She looked at him, her sharp eyes softening. "But we made it. Together."
"Together," Dominic agreed, his resolve hardening.
The Tower's trials were only getting more brutal, but Dominic and Sincerity knew one thing for certain: as long as they had each other, they would endure.
Dominic and Sincerity sat on the staircase to the seventh floor, the oppressive silence of the aftermath enveloping them. Their breathing was heavy, their bodies trembling from the strain of enduring the sixth trial.
The memory of the maddening white noise lingered, a phantom sensation clawing at Dominic's mind. He rubbed his temples, trying to focus on the here and now, but the darkness and whispers seemed etched into his thoughts.
"Dominic," Sincerity said softly, breaking the silence. Her voice, though steady, carried an edge of vulnerability.
He turned to her, his chest tightening at the sight of her. For all her sharp edges and strength, there was an exhaustion in her eyes that he hadn't seen before.
"That trial..." she began, her voice faltering. She closed her eyes, shaking her head. "It almost broke me."
Dominic reached for her hand, his touch gentle but firm. "It almost broke me too."
Sincerity looked at him, her sharp gaze softening as she let out a shaky breath. "That noise... those whispers. It was like they were digging into my head, pulling out everything I was afraid of."
"Me too," Dominic admitted. He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. "It made me feel like I was drowning. Like I'd never find you again. And the things it said... about being alone..."
His voice trailed off, the weight of the trial pressing down on him again.
"You're not alone," Sincerity said, her voice firm despite the tremor in it.
He met her gaze, his expression raw. "Neither are you."
She smiled faintly, her hand tightening around his. "I know. It's just... that trial made me remember things I've tried to forget. Those first years in purgatory. The silence. The darkness. The feeling that I didn't matter to anyone anymore."
"You matter to me," Dominic said without hesitation. His words hung in the air, unadorned but filled with conviction.
Sincerity blinked, her sharp features softening further. "And you matter to me, Dominic. More than I think I've ever let myself admit."
The silence between them was heavy, but this time, it wasn't oppressive. It was filled with something unspoken, something that had been growing between them since their journey began.
Sincerity shifted closer, her hand still in his. "Dominic... I don't know what's waiting for us at the top of this tower. I don't know if we'll make it. But right now, I know one thing for certain."
"What's that?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Her gaze locked onto his, intense and unwavering. "I trust you. With everything I am. And no matter what the system throws at us, I'm staying by your side."
Dominic's heart pounded, the walls he had built around his emotions cracking under the weight of her words. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I don't know if I deserve that. I swear I'll do everything I can to earn it."
Sincerity let out a soft, shaky laugh. "Idiot. You've already earned it."
Before he could respond, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a kiss that was both fierce and tender. The world around them seemed to fade, the oppressive weight of the Tower momentarily forgotten.
Dominic kissed her back, his hand cupping her cheek as he poured every ounce of gratitude, trust, and love he had into the moment.
When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested against each other, their breaths mingling in the quiet.
"We'll make it," Sincerity said softly, her voice steady once more.
Dominic nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Together."
"Always," she replied.
They sat there for a while longer, the silence no longer oppressive but comforting. The sixth trial had tested them in ways they hadn't expected, but it had also strengthened their bond.
When they finally stood, their hands remained intertwined as they approached the door to the seventh floor.
The Tower would throw more at them—of that they were certain. But for the first time since their ascent began, Dominic felt truly unshakable.
With Sincerity by his side, there was nothing they couldn't face.
The door to the seventh floor pulsed faintly, its surface rippling like disturbed water. Dominic and Sincerity stood before it, their resolve stronger than ever. The kiss they had shared had solidified something unspoken between them, a bond that the system could not break—though Dominic knew it would try.
He placed his hand on the door, glancing at Sincerity. "Ready?"
"Always," she replied, her grip on her dagger's firm.
The door slid open, revealing a room that shimmered with an eerie, unnatural light. They stepped inside, and the door vanished behind them, sealing them into the seventh trial.
The room was vast, its walls and floor made entirely of reflective surfaces. As Dominic and Sincerity moved, their reflections moved with them—but something was off. The reflections didn't mimic their every motion perfectly. Instead, they lagged behind, their movements deliberate and distorted.
"Floor 7: The Trial of Mirrors. To see yourself as you truly are is to face what you truly fear. Break the bonds, or be shattered."
The disembodied voice of the system was colder than before, laced with a venomous edge.
Dominic frowned, his sword at the ready. "It's getting desperate. It knows we're stronger together."
Sincerity nodded, her sharp eyes scanning the room. "So it's trying to turn us against each other again. Pathetic."
But the system's response was immediate, its tone mocking.
"Your bond is an illusion. A lie you tell yourselves to mask your weakness. You are not stronger together—you are vulnerable. Fragile. Easily broken."
The mirrors shimmered, and their distorted reflections stepped forward, becoming solid.
The reflections weren't exact copies. They were warped, exaggerated versions of Dominic and Sincerity, their features twisted by doubt and fear.
Dominic's reflection was taller, bulkier, with glowing eyes that burned with cold detachment. Its voice was emotionless, devoid of humanity.
"You think love will save you," it said, its tone mocking. "You think she makes you stronger. But she's a liability. You'll sacrifice her the moment she becomes inconvenient."
Sincerity's reflection was a grotesque parody of her angelic past, her wings restored but ragged and bleeding. Her face was twisted with contempt.
"He's lying to you," it hissed. "He doesn't love you. He's using you, just like everyone else has. And when he's done, he'll leave you behind."
Dominic and Sincerity exchanged a glance, their expressions hardening.
"Not this time," Dominic said, his voice steady.
The reflections charged, their movements unnervingly fluid. Dominic raised his sword, blocking a strike from his doppelgänger, while Sincerity darted aside, narrowly avoiding a swipe from hers.
The room seemed to pulse with the system's presence, its voice filling the space.
"You cannot win. You cannot defeat yourselves."
Dominic gritted his teeth, slashing at his reflection. The blow connected, but the reflection didn't falter. Instead, it laughed, its cold eyes locking onto his.
"I am you," it said. "Every doubt, every fear, every failure. You can't kill what's already inside you."
Sincerity's reflection was just as relentless, her twisted form taunting her with every movement.
"You think he sees you as an equal?" it sneered. "You're just a broken tool he keeps around for convenience. You're not his partner. You're his burden."
Sincerity growled, her daggers slashing at the reflection. "You're wrong," she said fiercely.
Dominic closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on Sincerity's voice as she fought. The bond they shared was real, stronger than any illusion or manipulation the system could create.
"You don't get to define me," he said to his reflection, his voice calm but firm. "And you don't get to define us."
He opened his eyes, his sword glowing brightly as he activated Judgement Strike, the blade slicing through his reflection with a blinding arc of energy.
Sincerity followed his lead, her movements swift and precise as she dodged her reflection's attacks. "You don't know anything about us," she said, her voice steady. "And you never will."
Her daggers found their mark, driving into the heart of her reflection. It dissolved into shards of glass, the pieces scattering across the mirrored floor.
The room trembled as the reflections shattered, the mirrors cracking and splintering. The system's voice returned, but it was strained, its confidence faltering.
"Impossible. You cannot... You must not..."
Dominic smirked, stepping closer to Sincerity. "Guess we're harder to break than you thought."
Sincerity grinned, her sharpness returning. "Told you we're stronger together."
The door to the eighth floor appeared, glowing faintly.
"Trial complete. Proceed."
As they ascended the staircase, the tension between them eased, replaced by a quiet determination.
Dominic glanced at Sincerity, his expression thoughtful. "It's desperate now. It knows it can't beat us unless it finds a way to tear us apart."
"Let it try," Sincerity said, her voice fierce. "We've proven it wrong before, and we'll do it again."
He nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Together."
"Always," she replied.
With their bond stronger than ever, they climbed toward the eighth floor, ready to face whatever the Tower—and the system—threw at them next.
The staircase ended at a vast chamber, its arched doorway glowing faintly with golden light. Dominic and Sincerity stood before it, their weapons drawn but their expressions cautious. The air around them was heavy, charged with an energy that felt neither hostile nor welcoming.
Dominic placed a hand on the door, glancing at Sincerity. "I don't like the look of this one."
"Me neither," she replied, her sharp eyes scanning the faint runes etched into the doorway. "But we've made it this far. Whatever's in there, we'll face it."
The door opened without a sound, revealing a massive circular chamber. At its centre stood a pair of intricately carved scales, their surfaces glowing faintly with shifting light. Above the scales, golden inscriptions floated in the air, their words both commanding and ominous:
"Weigh your souls. Ascend by virtue, descend by sin. The weight of your actions will decide your fate."
Dominic and Sincerity approached the scales cautiously, their steps echoing against the smooth, gleaming floor. As they drew closer, the scales began to shimmer, and the disembodied voice of the system returned, its tone sharp and mocking.
"Floor 8: The Trial of the Scales. Your past defines your weight. Your deeds decide your worth. Will you rise, or will you fall?"
Dominic frowned, his grip on his sword tightening. "It's trying to mess with us again."
"Of course it is," Sincerity muttered, her gaze fixed on the scales. "But it's not wrong. If these scales really measure our pasts, this could get... complicated."
Dominic hesitated, the weight of the words sinking in. His past was far from clean, littered with misdeeds and sacrifices made in pursuit of survival. He glanced at Sincerity, her jaw set in determination despite the flicker of doubt in her eyes.
"We do this together," he said firmly.
"Always," she replied, stepping up to one side of the scales as Dominic approached the other.
As Dominic placed his hand on the scale, the glowing inscriptions above him shifted, recounting fragments of his past.
"You have taken hundreds of souls. You have slain without mercy."
"But you have protected the weak. You have fought for those who could not fight for themselves."
The scale tilted downward, the weight of his sins pulling heavily on one side. Dominic felt the oppressive force, his knees threatening to buckle. But as the second inscription appeared, the scale balanced slightly, lifting him a fraction.
"You have sacrificed for others. You have loved and been loved in return."
The weight of his noble acts pushed the scale upward, counterbalancing his misdeeds.
Sincerity placed her hand on the opposite scale, her expression unreadable as the glowing inscriptions above her began to recount her past.
"You have failed as a guardian. You abandoned your ward to suffering and death."
"But you have fought for redemption. You have protected those who needed you."
The scale tilted downward at first, the weight of her guilt pressing heavily against her. But as the inscriptions continued, the scale began to balance.
"You have loved deeply. You have endured suffering to help others endure."
Her scale began to rise, mirroring Dominic's ascent.
The room trembled as both scales began to ascend, their glowing inscriptions faltering. The system's voice returned, its tone laced with frustration.
"Impossible. Your sins outweigh your virtues. You cannot ascend. You should fall."
Dominic smirked, his voice steady despite the trembling chamber. "Guess we're full of surprises."
Sincerity grinned, her sharpness returning. "You're going to have to try harder than that."
The scales lifted higher, carrying Dominic and Sincerity upward. The walls of the chamber shifted, the glowing doorway to the tenth floor appearing before them.
"Trial incomplete. Proceed." The system's voice was distorted, its frustration palpable.
Dominic and Sincerity exchanged a glance, their expressions filled with a mix of relief and triumph.
"Well," Sincerity said, stepping off her scale. "That's one way to skip a floor."
Dominic chuckled, following her. "Guess doing the right thing once in a while pays off."
"Don't get used to it," she teased, though her smile was genuine.
As they stood before the doorway to the tenth floor, the weight of the trial still lingered, though it no longer felt oppressive.
"It's going to keep coming after us," Dominic said, his voice quieter now. "The system knows we're stronger together, and it hates that."
"Let it hate," Sincerity replied, her tone fierce. "It can't stop us."
Dominic reached for her hand, his grip steady. "Together, then."
"Always," she said, squeezing his hand before stepping through the doorway.
The system's voice echoed faintly as they ascended, a whisper of frustration and desperation that only fuelled their determination.
"You will fail. You must fail."
Dominic smirked, his resolve unshaken. "Not today."
The golden light of the tenth floor's entrance shimmered faintly as Dominic and Sincerity stepped away from the scales that had carried them upward. The oppressive energy of the eighth trial lingered in their minds, a reminder of the weight they carried—not just in the Tower, but in their souls.
They paused in the quiet, their breaths steadying as the echoes of the system's frustration faded.
Dominic leaned against the smooth wall of the staircase, his sword resting at his side. He stared at the glowing runes lining the walls, his thoughts clouded with the inscriptions the scales had revealed.
"You think that's true?" he asked after a moment, his voice low.
Sincerity looked at him, her sharp eyes softening. "Do I think what's true?"
"That our past defines us," Dominic said, his jaw tightening. "The things we've done... the things we've failed to do. Do you think they're the only things that matter in the end?"
Sincerity crossed her arms, her gaze turning thoughtful. "I don't know," she admitted. "I think our past shapes us, but it doesn't have to determine who we are. Not if we don't let it."
Dominic nodded slowly, her words sinking in. "I just... it's hard not to wonder. How much of who I am now is because of what I've done? And how much of it is because of what I'm trying to be?"
She stepped closer, her voice steady. "Dominic, the system wants us to believe we're defined by our worst moments. It feeds on doubt and guilt because that's how it controls us. But you've done more than just survive your past. You've fought to be better. To make something good out of all this."
He looked at her, his expression softening. "And you? Do you believe that about yourself?"
Sincerity hesitated, her usual sharpness wavering. "I'm trying to," she said quietly. "For a long time, I thought my failure as your guardian was all that mattered. That it was the only thing that defined me. But then I met you again, and... I realised I could still fight for something. For someone."
Dominic reached for her hand, gripping it tightly. "We're not perfect, Sincerity. But we don't have to be. We just have to keep going."
She smiled faintly, her hand warm in his. "Together."
"Always," he replied.
As they ascended to the tenth floor, the air grew colder, the energy around them shifting into something darker, more chaotic. Dominic's system interface flickered erratically, error messages flashing across his vision.
System Error: Emotional Bond Detected.
System Analysis: Subject's unity exceeds predicted thresholds.
Adapting Strategy...
The disembodied voice of the system returned, colder and sharper than before.
"You think you are strong together. You think your bond will carry you to victory. But bonds can be severed. Trust can be broken. And unity can become your undoing."
Sincerity's grip on her daggers tightened. "It's trying to get in our heads again."
"Let it try," Dominic said, his voice steady. "We've beaten it before."
But the system's tone shifted, a mocking edge creeping into its words.
"You have proven yourselves resilient to doubt. To fear. But resilience can be broken. Confidence can be eroded. I will show you the cost of your bond."
The staircase abruptly ended, depositing them into a chamber filled with shimmering light. Dozens of glowing orbs floated in the air, each one pulsing with faint, distorted images.
Sincerity frowned, stepping closer to one of the orbs. Her eyes widened as the image came into focus—it was a memory, hazy and disjointed but unmistakably hers.
"This is..." she began, her voice trailing off.
Dominic approached another orb, his chest tightening as he saw himself as a child, tied up and crying in the dark. He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening.
"Memories," he said bitterly. "It's trying to use our pasts against us again."
The system's voice echoed around them, filled with malicious glee.
"Not just memories. Choices. Regrets. Every moment you wish you could change. Every wound you wish you could undo. Relive them. Break beneath them. And know that your bond cannot protect you from yourselves."
Dominic turned to Sincerity, his expression hard. "We don't give it what it wants. We don't let it use this against us."
Sincerity nodded, though her grip on her daggers was tight enough that her knuckles were white. "Agreed. But... seeing these? It's harder than I thought it would be."
"Me too," Dominic admitted, his voice softening. "But we've faced worse. We'll face this too. Together."
She smiled faintly, her sharpness returning. "Always."
The glowing orbs pulsed brighter, the memories within them growing more vivid and painful. But as Dominic and Sincerity moved through the chamber, hand in hand, the orbs began to fade, their light dimming beneath the weight of their resolve.
The system's voice faltered, its tone filled with frustration.
"You cannot endure this. You will break. You must break."
But they didn't. They pressed on, their bond unshaken, the weight of their pasts no longer a burden but a testament to their strength.
The doorway to the eleventh floor appeared ahead, glowing with soft, golden light.
Dominic and Sincerity exchanged a glance, their expressions filled with quiet determination.
"Together?" he asked.
"Always," she replied.
And with that, they stepped through, leaving the system's desperation behind them as they ascended to the next trial.