The interior was not stone, but light. Gravity felt thin, like a half-remembered dream. As Kaelen climbed the winding, floating staircases, the Spire tested him. It didn’t use monsters; it used .
For a thousand years, the Spire had been a myth—a needle of white stone said to pierce the heavens, built by a forgotten king to reach the gods. But when the Great Eclipse turned day into eternal twilight, the Spire didn't just appear; it grew. It tore through the earth in the center of the capital, a jagged shard of ivory and gold that hummed with a low, bone-shaking frequency. Spire of Glory
In the Chamber of Valor, he saw himself as the hero he had once dreamed of being—untouchable, adored by the masses, his failures erased. To pass, he had to reject the vision, embracing his scars and the quiet, dusty life of a smith. In the Chamber of Wisdom, the Spire offered him the secrets of the stars, but only if he let go of his "mortal attachments." The interior was not stone, but light
"My daughter is not an attachment," Kaelen roared, his voice echoing against walls that bled starlight. It didn’t use monsters; it used