They turned back.
Caleb stopped them halfway towardsthe village, reality cutting through desperation like a blade. They were walking wounded into a negotiation with victors. No leverage. No strength. No plan beyond hope.
"This is suicide," he said.
Dina's face crumpled. "Then what do we do?"
Nobody answered. Because there wasn't an answer.
They limped back to the cave in silence. Marek was unconscious when they arrived, his breathing shallow and irregular. Ellen had collapsed against the rock wall, fever burning through her skin.
"His pulse is getting weaker," Dina said, checking Marek's wrist. "Ellen's infection is spreading. I can see the red lines moving up her leg."
Soren sat down hard, his cracked shield clattering on stone. "So we just sit here and watch them die?"
"We don't have a choice," Caleb said.
"There's always a choice," Ellen whispered. Her eyes were bright with fever. "The Tower always gives us choices."
As if summoned by her words, something shifted in the air. Not a sound. Not a movement. Just a change, like pressure dropping before a storm.
Words appeared on the cave wall. Not carved. Not painted. Just there, glowing faintly in the dim light.
THE TRIAL OF ENTRY IS COMPLETE.
YOU HAVE FAILED.
HOWEVER, A FINAL TEST REMAINS.
CHOOSE ONE MEMBER OF YOUR GROUP TO DIE.
THE CHOICE MUST BE UNANIMOUS.
THE ACT MUST BE PERFORMED BY YOUR HANDS.
TIME LIMIT: ONE HOUR.
FAILURE TO CHOOSE RESULTS IN TOTAL ELIMINATION.
COMPLIANCE OFFERS NO GUARANTEE OF SALVATION.
The words hung there like a curse.
Nobody spoke for a long time.
Finally, Soren laughed. A broken, bitter sound. "Of course. Of fucking course."
"It's lying," Dina said. "It has to be lying."
"The Tower doesn't lie," Caleb said quietly. "It just doesn't tell the whole truth."
Ellen struggled to sit up straighter. "So after everything. All the killing. All the choices. It comes down to this."
"We don't have to do it," Dina said. "We can refuse."
"And die," Soren said.
"And stay human," she shot back.
Caleb stared at the words on the wall. One hour. Unanimous choice. No guarantee.
The Tower wasn't testing their survival instincts anymore. It was testing whether they could cross the final line. Whether they could murder one of their own in cold blood for nothing more than the possibility of living another day.
"Who would we even choose?" Ellen asked.
The question hung in the air like poison.
Marek was dying anyway. It would be logical. Merciful, even. End his suffering while serving a purpose.
But that was the Tower's logic. Cold. Calculating. Inhuman.
"I'll do it," Ellen said suddenly.
Everyone turned to stare at her.
"I'm wounded. Infected. I'm slowing everyone down." Her voice was steady despite the fever. "It makes sense."
"No," Dina said. "Ellen, no."
"Why not? Someone has to. And I'm the youngest. I've had the least life to lose."
"That's exactly why it should be me," Soren said. "I'm older. I've lived more."
"Stop." Caleb's voice cut through the discussion. "All of you, stop."
He looked at each of them in turn. Ellen, brave and dying. Dina, trying to hold onto her humanity. Soren, ready to sacrifice himself out of guilt. Marek, unconscious and unaware of the choice being made around him.
"The Tower wants us to do this," he said. "It wants us to become the kind of people who can murder a friend for a chance at survival."
"Maybe that's what we need to become," Soren said.
"Maybe that's what we've already become," Ellen whispered.
Caleb closed his eyes. In the darkness behind his lids, he saw all the choices that had led them here. The goblin kills. The stat boosts. The hidden achievements rewarding brutality. Each step taking them further from who they used to be.
The Tower hadn't just been testing them. It had been changing them. Molding them. Preparing them for this moment.
"Thirty minutes," Dina said, looking at the wall.
The countdown had appeared beneath the words.
00:29:47
00:29:46
00:29:45
Tick. Tick. Tick.
"We could draw lots," Soren suggested.
"We could vote," Ellen said.
"We could refuse," Dina insisted.
Caleb opened his eyes. "Or we could find another way."
"There is no other way," Soren said. "The Tower's made that clear."
"The Tower's made a lot of things clear that turned out to be lies."
Caleb stood up, studying the glowing words. "It says the choice must be unanimous. The act must be performed by our hands. But it doesn't say the person chosen has to be unwilling."
"What do you mean?" Dina asked.
"What if someone volunteers? Really volunteers? Not out of guilt or fever or logic. But because they choose it?"
Ellen raised her hand. "I already—"
"Not you," Caleb said. "You're not thinking clearly. The infection's affecting your judgment."
"Then who?" Soren asked.
Caleb looked at Marek's unconscious form. "Someone who can't feel pain anymore."
The words hit like a physical blow.
"You want to kill Marek?" Dina's voice was horrified.
"I want to save him from dying slowly."
"That's not the same thing."
"Isn't it?"
00:15:23
00:15:22
00:15:21
Fifteen minutes left.
"If we're going to do this," Caleb said, "we need to decide now."
"I can't," Dina said. "I became an EMT to save lives, not take them."
"I can," Soren said quietly. "If it has to be done."
"Ellen?" Caleb asked.
She stared at Marek's gray face. "He's suffering. Even unconscious. I can see it."
Three votes. Not unanimous.
"Dina," Caleb said. "I need you to think past your training. Past your morals. Look at him. Really look."
Dina knelt beside Marek. His breathing was barely visible. His skin was the color of old paper. The bandages around his wrist had stopped bleeding because there wasn't enough blood left to flow.
"He's dying anyway," she whispered.
"So the question is whether he dies in agony over the next few hours, or peacefully in the next few minutes."
00:05:17
00:05:16
00:05:15
Five minutes.
"Unanimous?" Caleb asked.
One by one, they nodded.
Even Dina.
Caleb picked up his notched dagger. The blade was dull, chipped, stained with goblin blood. But it would serve.
"Should we wake him?" Ellen asked.
"No," Caleb said. "Let him sleep."
He knelt beside Marek. Found the pulse point on his neck. Positioned the blade.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
Then he pressed down.
Marek didn't stir. Didn't fight. Just stopped breathing.
The countdown reached zero.
The words on the wall changed.
CHOICE ACCEPTED.
TRIAL COMPLETE.
FLOOR CLEARED.
REWARD: SURVIVAL.
NO ADDITIONAL BENEFITS GRANTED.
PROCEED TO FLOOR SIX.
A stairwell opened in the back of the cave.
Their injuries healed instantly. Ellen's leg sealed. Caleb's ribs mended. The exhaustion lifted.
But Marek stayed dead.
Because healing only worked on the living.
They climbed the stairs in silence.
Behind them, the cave began to dissolve.
Taking Marek's body with it.
Taking another piece of their humanity.
The Tower had taught them its final lesson.
There was no choice too horrible to make.
No line too sacred to cross.
No price too high for survival.
And somewhere in the darkness above them, Floor Six was waiting.