The chamber of fire burned with a golden hue, shadows stretching like claws across the marble floor. At the center, the Sun of the West rested lazily upon his throne, a chalice of molten light in his hand.
Before him knelt a young woman draped in silver robes, her head bowed, her voice trembling as she spoke:
"My lord… please, just this once. Do not harm him. He has nothing to do with this war."
The Sun of the West's smile was sharp, cruel, yet oddly calm.
"This…" he said, his voice like a low rumble of thunder, "is the last favor I am doing for you. After today, you will never speak of mercy again."
He rose, his golden aura crackling, and raised a single hand. A cloaked assassin materialized from the shadows, kneeling at his command.
"Your target," the Sun of the West whispered, eyes narrowing, "is the boy who dares call himself Shubh's rival. End him quietly. Leave nothing behind."
The assassin bowed and vanished, the room swallowed in silence once more.
The girl looked up, fear and fury flashing in her eyes, but she dared not speak further. The Sun of the West leaned back on his throne, muttering to himself:
"Shubh… let us see if you can climb when every step is soaked in blood."
Shubh sat at a stone table inside a dimly lit hall. Across from him were Williams and his rival. Both had agreed to meet, and at last, the Alliance of Three had begun to take shape.
Williams leaned back, arms crossed.
"If we're to survive these floors, we need trust. No games, no betrayals. I don't care what your past is, as long as you fight like hell beside us."
The rival scoffed. "You talk as if climbing is some noble dream. For me, it's survival. Nothing more."
Shubh didn't smile, didn't argue. He simply nodded. "Then survive with us. The tower doesn't care for words — only strength."
The rival raised a brow, as if surprised by Shubh's bluntness. For a brief moment, there was respect in his eyes.
But fate was already moving.
A shadow slid silently across the cracked ceiling above. None of them noticed until the weight of killing intent filled the room. Shubh's instincts flared — too late.
A streak of silver cut through the air. The rival's eyes widened. His body jerked as the assassin's blade pierced clean through his chest.
The sound of blood spilling on stone echoed louder than thunder.
"NO!" Williams leapt forward, catching him before his body struck the ground. He pressed his hands against the wound, desperate, but the life in his ally's eyes was already fading.
Shubh stood frozen for an instant. His jaw tightened, his hands clenched so hard his nails dug into his palms. Rage surged through him — a storm begging to be unleashed.
The assassin stood atop the rafters, faceless and calm, withdrawing his blade without a word. His work was done.
"Damn you…" Williams roared, his voice breaking with grief. "DAMN YOU!"
The rival coughed, blood spilling from his lips. His last gaze turned toward Shubh — not with hatred, but something quieter. A strange peace, almost acceptance.
"Climb… higher than me…" he whispered, before his head fell back, lifeless.
The silence that followed felt endless.
Shubh lowered his head. His chest burned, his fury like molten iron. But his voice, when it came, was steady.
"They've declared war. So be it."
The assassin had already vanished into the shadows when another figure entered the hall. Cloaked in white, carrying a long staff, his aura was overwhelming yet controlled.
Williams tensed, ready to fight again, but the man raised a hand calmly.
"I am not your enemy," he said, his voice firm but collected. "I was sent by the Sun of the West himself… to train you."
Shubh's eyes narrowed. His body still shook with fury.
"Train me?" he said coldly. "Or chain me?"
The trainer gave a faint smile, though his eyes betrayed nothing.
"That depends… on how far you're willing to climb."
Williams stepped in front of Shubh, rage still boiling. "He just had my friend killed! And now he sends you?"
But Shubh placed a hand on Williams' shoulder, steadying him.
"Calm down. If the Sun of the West sent a killer, I'd already be dead. A trainer means he wants something from me… and until I know what, I'll play along."
The trainer's smile widened ever so slightly. "Wise words. Perhaps you are not unworthy after all."
And so, with blood still staining the floor, Shubh's path darkened further. His alliance was broken before it had even begun, his rival slain as a warning.
But instead of breaking him, it hardened his resolve.
If the Sun of the West wished to test him, then Shubh would climb — not as prey, but as the storm itself.