The message came at midnight.
Torian stared at the communication crystal, watching it pulse with an invitation he hadn't expected. The frequency was one he recognized from before, from the days when he'd been just another struggling climber instead of part of something larger.
"Your sister is alive. She's on Floor 28. Come alone if you want to see her again."
His hands shook.
Mira. His little sister, the one he'd thought died when their original party was wiped on Floor 8. The one whose face he still saw in nightmares, her screams echoing through years of guilt and grief.
He should tell Dante. Should report the contact, let the leader decide how to handle what was obviously a trap. That was the smart play, the safe play, the play that a loyal teammate would make.
But what if it was true?
What if she was actually alive, waiting on a floor he might never reach, hoping that somehow her brother would find her?
Torian made a decision.
