The air around him still crackled with fading divine energy. The golden gate that had once blocked his path was now nothing but shattered fragments, floating in the endless void above the Tower's floors.
Two gods had stood before him, both wielding power beyond mortal comprehension.
And both had failed.
Asher exhaled slowly, flexing his fingers. He could still feel their energy inside him, the fragments of their divine power struggling, resisting, refusing to be claimed.
But it was too late.
It belonged to him now.
He lifted his gaze toward the sky. The Tower stretched endlessly above, its floors winding through dimensions beyond human understanding. For the first time, he had the power to ascend freely.
A notification flickered before his vision.
[The Tower has recognized your anomaly.]
[You may ascend at will.]
He let out a quiet laugh.
The Tower had tried to erase him. Now it was giving him a choice.
Climb.
Or destroy.
The gods were watching. He could feel their unseen eyes pressing against him, lingering just beyond the veil of reality. They were waiting for his decision.
Would he take the path they had laid for him, becoming their greatest challenge?
Or would he tear their world apart?
A voice cut through the silence.
"You were never meant to exist."
The first god was still there, still standing, still bleeding.
It was weaker now, its golden robes flickering, its form unstable. A god should not be able to bleed. A god should not be able to fear.
But Asher had shown it something new.
And it did not know how to process it.
He tilted his head. "Still here? I thought I broke you already."
The god did not flinch. "You are a mistake."
Asher took a step forward.
The golden light surrounding the god trembled.
A mistake. That was what they had decided he was. Not a challenger. Not an opponent. Not even a rival.
A mistake.
Something that should have been erased before it had ever begun.
His fingers twitched. His shadow pulsed beneath him, alive and waiting. He had stolen power from the Tower. He had consumed divine energy.
He had made a god bleed.
And yet, they still thought they had control.
He let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of the decision settling over him.
Climb.
Or destroy.
His instincts screamed at him to tear everything down. To make the gods feel the fear they had forced upon every mortal who had ever entered this cursed Tower.
But something deeper held him back.
Not hesitation.
Strategy.
The gods expected him to lash out. They expected rage, destruction, chaos. That was what they understood. That was what they could fight.
But if he climbed…
If he walked their path, knowing he could leave it whenever he wanted…
That was true power.
The Tower had given him a choice.
So he would make one.
"You're right," he said, his voice low, steady. "I wasn't meant to exist."
The god's golden eyes narrowed.
"But I do."
The moment he spoke, he stepped forward—onto the next floor.
The Tower shuddered.
The gods who had been watching reacted instantly.
A ripple of power spread through the air, as if reality itself had been thrown into disarray. The Tower had thought it could control him. It had tried to erase him.
Now it had to accept him.
The golden god staggered backward, its form flickering. "You dare—"
Asher vanished.
The Fourth Floor collapsed behind him.
He had chosen to climb.
For now.
The Realm of the High Gods
Far above the mortal floors, beyond the Tower's tests and trials, a council of gods sat in silence.
They had seen what happened.
They had felt it.
One of them had bled.
And now, the anomaly was climbing.
A figure wrapped in golden radiance finally spoke, its voice echoing across the realm.
"He should not be allowed to reach the top."
Another figure, wrapped in shifting void, replied.
"And yet, he will."
The gods were silent. None of them wanted to say the truth out loud.
But it was there, lingering in the air like poison.
They were not in control anymore.
And Asher Damien was coming for them.