Once Damon arrived at the door to the 40th floor boss trial, he pushed open the door, but it didn't open.
It peeled.
As if the very fabric of the tower resented what lay beyond, the entrance unfurled like burnt skin, exposing a circular chasm bathed in colorless light.
Damon stepped forward without hesitation, and as soon as his boots crossed the threshold, the door behind him slammed shut, leaving him absolutely no way back.
"Figures." He muttered to himself, trying to keep the mood light as he stepped into the room, feeling the air that was thick with not just pressure, but meaning.
Every breath tasted like secrets. His lungs struggled to decide if they were breathing or dreaming. This place… wasn't built for mortals.
Not even gods.
The space around him shifted, subtle at first. The ground folded. The horizon coiled. There was no ceiling. No floor. No axis.
