The stairs didn't lead upward this time. They twisted sideways, folding into a dark corridor lined with smooth black walls. The kind of black that swallowed light, sound, and thought. Even Caleb's vision—sharpened by his stat boost couldn't pierce far.
The others hesitated behind him. He didn't.
A few steps in, the corridor lit itself. Not with lamps or magic. Just light. Like the walls changed their mind and decided to glow. And ahead of him, waiting in the center of a vast chamber, stood a man in white robes with no face.
Or maybe it wasn't a man at all.
It stood motionless. Not hostile. Not welcoming. Just… present. Like it had always been there.
Text formed in the air.
FLOOR FOUR
CLASS SELECTION ROOM
TIME LIMIT: NONE
MANDATORY STOP
Dina stepped forward beside Caleb. "Is that thing alive?"
The being finally moved. A gesture. Small. Slow. But enough to send a shiver down every spine in the room.
Then it spoke.
No mouth moved. No voice echoed. The words just were inside the head, behind the eyes, like a whisper under the skin.
"You have survived the trials of flesh, of mind, of loyalty. You now step beyond instinct. You will be given form. Choose it well."
Six pedestals rose from the floor. Each bore a sigil, simple and crude, like a child's drawing or a brand burned into memory.
Above them, new text appeared.
Available Classes:
• Vanguard — Boosts strength and resilience. Frontline force.
• Strider — Focuses on speed, reaction, and mobility.
• Binder — Uses chains and control abilities. Subdues threats.
• Savant — Tactical. Gains insight into enemy weakness and Tower mechanics.
• Veilcaller — Focuses on deception, shadows, and mental manipulation.
• Null — Rejects a class. Doubles stat gain but loses system assistance.
Caleb stared at the last one.
"Null," he muttered. "That's a trap."
Soren gave him a look. "Double stat gain?"
"Yeah. With no guidance. No skills. You fall behind fast unless you know exactly what you're doing."
Dina touched the Savant sigil. "This one feels… right."
The robed figure spoke again.
"You may ask three questions. Use them wisely."
Caleb blinked. "Only three? Between all of us?"
"Correct."
He looked at the others. "Any objections if I go first?"
No one argued.
He stepped forward. "What happens when someone reaches the top of the Tower?"
A pause. Then the answer fell like a dropped stone.
"They become a God."
"What is the best way to survive in the tower"
"Stop climbing. There exists " break rooms" within the tower some climbers eventually decide to settle in one of them starting a family, that's the best way to survive."
That was two.
Caleb looked around. "Last question. Make it count."
Soren raised his hand. "Ask if the Tower can be trusted."
"No," Caleb said. "That's a waste. Truth means nothing if the thing answering doesn't care."
He turned back to the Administrator. "What's the real purpose of the Tower?"
A hum. Not from the room, but from inside their bones.
"Will not be answered. "
The pedestals pulsed.
"Choose your class."
Caleb walked to the Strider pedestal. He didn't hesitate. Speed meant survival. Clarity. Advantage. Not just in battle but in seeing things before they went wrong.
The moment he touched it, heat flared under his skin.
A window opened in his vision:
CLASS CONFIRMED: STRIDER
Passive: Accelerated Reflexes
Skill Unlocked: Phantom Step [Short-range reposition once per floor]
He exhaled. Felt lighter.
The others chose quickly. Dina went Savant. Soren picked Vanguard. The girl Ellen went Veilcaller, though her hands shook when she touched the sigil. The last guy Marek, the quiet one chose Binder.
None of them picked Null.
The Administrator raised its hand once more.
"Classes may evolve. Traits may fuse. Your path is not fixed unless you are weak."
Then it vanished.
The room began to dissolve, shifting around them. The walls turned to smoke. The floor melted into mist. And then, just like that, they were standing on a new platform wide, open, wind rushing through cracked stone pillars.
Above them, massive letters hovered:
FLOOR FIVE
TRIAL OF ENTRY
ENEMY TYPE: INVADER GROUP
SURVIVAL REQUIRED: FOUR OF SIX
Far in the distance, 5 figures moved. Armed. Armored.
Another group.
Not monsters.
People.
The Tower was done testing them against themselves.
Now, it was throwing them at others.
And only four were allowed to survive.