The golden tower loomed above the Lull Sea, its helix-shaped form twisting upward, with half of its main body swallowed by the monstrous whirlpool beneath.
That was the world that we dreamed of living in...
At the top, the floor stretched out, vast enough to consume all of Japan. The tower's shimmering body spiralled downward, each level smaller than the one above, vanishing into the abyss where darkness roared.
It was impossible to measure its true scale, but every block of its structure hummed with untold data, a labyrinth of knowledge sculpted by the minds of quantum physicists who had spent lifetimes in its creation.
Inside, cities clung to the edges of vast, unseen chasms. Arches and bridges wove through biomes and islands, and small oceans stirred beneath distant shores.
Only one stairway connected the floors—a treacherous path through the Delves, haunted by monsters armed with weapons of every kind. But those who triumphed had the rare privilege of stepping into the ethereal teleporter, their presence a silent promise of escaping their own desire.
Once someone makes a breakthrough and arrives at a city on one of the lower floors, a blinding pulse of light will be seen floating silently in the lower city, connecting the teleporters of the upper cities with each other, making it possible for anyone to move freely between the floors of the golden tower.
These dungeons, known as Delves, require the elimination of a boss that resides somewhere within the labyrinth to allow safe passage.
A world trapped in shadow, where the roar of the sea was only silenced by the echo of violence and the grind of battle.
For six months, it had devoured the world, pulling in 1.3 million unfortunate souls.
This was the realm of Dusk Protocol.
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Blood has always terrified me—not just the idea of blood but rather the blood of someone close to me. I used to fret about the thought of dying before learning who I truly am, but now what I fear the most is losing the people I care most about.
Just a few inches away from me was a magical iron radiating a grimace; its long, skeletal curve encircled Kazami, who was gasping for air. He screamed in fear as the serpent-like chains dug their teeth into him, leaving a trail of blood on his clothing. It was at this moment that I knew there was no hope of escaping this game alive, at least not in this life.
"Do it…" I stuttered, wiping the blood off my dress before standing up. "One last time, Ukiyo, I'll set things right."
The girl besides me was dying. Tears streamed down her worn-out clothes as her eyes slowly decayed. "You heard what that thing said—that fate ruled people's lives and that those who interfered with it did so to their sorrow. I don't want anyone else to suffer. So please don't do it," she cried out.
"One last time. I promise this time I'll set things right. I'll protect the one thing I want to protect until the very end."
I reached—not with hands, but with the old call living behind the tongue. Far off, something answered. A green chime walked through stone and bone; overhead the air parted on a seam of jade, and a long dark limb of metal swung on its hinge.
It turned point-first through the gloom, two broad faces kissing on a single pivot, weight humming, edge mineral-cold. My palm found it mid-flight; the catch rang up my arm, set the shoulder burning, and the grip held.
"Come," I told it.
"Cut," it breathed back.
The ground listened.
From the fog, they stepped—bodies written wrong. Black mist clung to them in sheets; their ribs had grown outward into pale handles, their joints folded the wrong direction, and their skulls wore too many smiles.
One dragged a sack of teeth and never counted to the end. One stared only at its own reflection in a film of oil, head tilted, waiting for applause no one gave.
Another reached for anything warm, hands that kept reaching even when they closed.
A fourth carried a gut that never emptied; the fifth was a furnace on legs, heat stuttering the air; the sixth wore sleep in its bones and moved by remembering motion; the seventh wanted what every other had and grew new eyes to keep wanting more.
"More," one hissed.
"Mine," from another.
"See me."
"Touch."
"Enough."
"Rest."
"Burn."
Their breath salted the dark; the mist tasted of iron and old sugar. Bones made a garden where no garden should grow.
I drew a breath that hurt and set my heel. The hinge opened. One stroke.
Stone peeled. The floor split on a clean green wound running from my toes to the cave's far edge; columns shuddered, dust rose in a single sheet. The black vapour tore into streamers; the bone garden lost its stems.
Air bucked. Debris leapt and fell inside one heartbeat. The fissure widened, a dark ribbon unspooling between this world and that procession of hungers—enough of a gap for another sky to take one more breath.
"Ukiyo—now or never," I said, and didn't wait to hear the answer.
"For every wish that is granted, a curse is born. If it's for your sake, then I don't mind being locked in this eternal maze until all of us can live under the same sky once again."