"Shiver."
Almost every Dreamer knew that name.
A masked dual swordsman. The number one player in the Tower of Dreams.
He didn't join guilds. Turned down invitations from the top five factions—refusing officer roles, titles, and even real-world money.
He played solo. Cleared hidden dungeons alone. Accepted quests no one else could even see. Never sought fame—but earned it.
And yet, whenever the top guilds and top players gathered to plan for Floor Boss raids, he was there.
Usually silent. Usually in the corner.
Until he spoke.
And when he did, everyone shut up.
Because whatever Shiver said about a boss fight… always came true.
So the Tower's community gave him another name.
Floor's Breath.
The one who moved like the Tower itself breathed through him.
The Player who knew everything.
…
SIZZLE–POP—SMOKE.
"DAMN IT, COME ON—WHY IS IT STUCK AGAIN?!"
Back in the real world, that same legendary figure was currently locked in a boss fight of his own.
Against an egg.
Rei stood in his kitchen, poking at an egg that had fused to the pan like cursed loot. Smoke curled into the air. The yolk had imploded on contact. Bits of shell clung to the edges like battle scars.
He flipped the egg. It didn't budge.
"…You win this round," he muttered, defeated, and reached for another.
Behind him, the hallway creaked.
"TAE HYUN REI!" his mom's voice rang out.
He flinched.
"I smell smoke!"
"Nope, just… breakfast!"
His mom walked in, took one look at the pan, and sighed like someone watching their stock portfolio collapse.
"That's not breakfast. That's a crime."
"I'm trying," Rei said, holding up the spatula like a peace offering.
"You quit your job to play Tower games and now you're burning eggs? At this rate, we'll starve before the monsters even reach us!"
"I told you, Mom. The Tower's real now. I have to prepare."
"For what, getting a cooking skill?"
Rei coughed into his fist. "...Maybe."
She pointed at him with her coffee mug. "You're not even in a guild. You haven't earned a single coin since you quit that store job, and now you're wasting our eggs."
He turned back to the pan, voice low. "Technically, the store explode."
She narrowed her eyes. "What?"
"Nothing."
Before she could interrogate him further, the living room TV buzzed.
"Breaking news! Player named 'Shiver' has just cleared Floor 1 of the Tower!"
Rei perked up. "Oh hey, that's me—ow!" He cut himself off with a yelp as the pan hissed and popped oil on his arm.
From the couch, Tae Ri yelled, "Rei, it's starting!"
He abandoned the egg and shuffled into the living room, where Tae Ri sat cross-legged in front of the screen, wide-eyed.
A grainy clip played—Tower footage from someone's interface stream. The GS Mart. Roots tore through the tile floor like spears. Shelves crumbled, freezers shattered. A corrupted boss glitched and stuttered through reality like a broken signal.
And at the center of it all stood a lone figure.
Black hoodie. Blade in hand. Moving like gravity didn't apply to him.
Shiver.
Fast. Fluid. Brutal.
Rei grabbed a towel and flopped down beside his sister, rubbing his arm casually like he hadn't been in that exact footage last night.
On-screen, the figure's face distorted—blurred like corrupted pixels. Not a mask. Not censorship. Just… a glitch. No matter how high the stream resolution, the Tower refused to render his face. It was like reality itself didn't want him identified. A smear of color beneath the hood, shifting too fast to track.
Even the voice was layered in distortion, each word cloaked in static, like the system filtered it in real time
Tae Ri stared. "That's the guy who cleared the 1st Floor? Damn…"
"Pretty cool," Rei muttered.
"I didn't think anyone could fight like that this early."
"Yeah, me neither." He scratched his neck, trying not to smirk.
Their mom peered in from the hallway. "Who is that?
"His name's Shiver," Tae Ri answered. "They said he was the top player in the Tower of Dreams."
"Ah. A celebrity," their mom sniffed. "Good for him. Probably knows how to cook."
Rei muttered something under his breath.
Tae Ri turned to him, eyes squinting. "Wait… Rei. You're a Dreamer, right?"
"Technically."
"Have you ever met him? Like in the Tower?"
Rei blinked.
Paused.
Then leaned back on the couch with a dreamy expression.
"Nah… I stayed in the Safezone most of the time."
"Really?"
He nodded solemnly. "Spent my nights flirting with hot NPCs. Had a thing with the elven blacksmith once. Tragic ending. She exploded."
Tae Ri burst out laughing. "You're an idiot."
"You asked."
She shook her head, turning back to the screen. "Still… It's crazy. This guy—Shiver—just cleared Floor 1 solo. You think we'll get to see what he really looks like?"
"Doubt it," Rei said, sipping coffee. "He's probably ugly."
"Mm. Or super handsome and hiding it."
"You'd like that, wouldn't you."
"I'd follow him on stream."
Rei fake-gagged. "Gross."
Their mom called out from the kitchen again. "You're not skipping lunch too, are you?!"
Rei groaned. "Why does this house feel more dangerous than the Tower?"
Tae Ri smirked. "Because Mom's a hidden boss."
"True"
------
Later that night, the world couldn't stop talking.
Yestube thumbnails screamed in all caps.
Forum threads hit reply limits in minutes.
Livestreams, think-pieces, reaction clips, memes—every platform was flooded with the same name:
SHIVER.
> [@DreamerHive]: "Shiver soloed the 1st Floor and exposed a corrupted NPC? How is that even possible??"
> [@TowerLeakers]: "Confirmed: GS Mart incident wasn't random. Hidden scenario? Floor 18 threat on Floor 1? WTF???"
> [@GuildWatch]: "That sword style… not beginner. Whoever Shiver is, they're either a returning Dreamer with admin cheats—or a monster."
In a popular streamer's chat, the feed struggled to keep up with the thousands of comments per second.
>[donodude69]: "It glitched his face. The tower glitched his face. THAT'S NEXT-LEVEL PLOT ARMOR."
>[FloorDiverMain]: "If Shiver's playing again, I'm uninstalling fear."
>[ModPost]: "Reminder: anyone claiming to be Shiver will be banned. Don't start."
The streamer, a former mid-rank Dreamer, stared at the paused clip of the blurred-faced swordsman.
"I remember him," he murmured. "Back in the Dream Tower. Floor 57 raid. He showed up five minutes before the boss spawned. Didn't say a word. Just... pointed at the tank, said, 'Left side, second sweep's a feint.' Then left right after the clear. We all thought he was a system mod or something."
But the wildest speculation came from the analysts.
"If the Tower accepted a kill outside its physical structure as a legitimate Floor clear, that means boundaries are breaking. The Tower isn't just a place anymore. It's leaking."
"He triggered and cleared a hidden scenario on Day 3. That's unprecedented."
"The real question isn't how he did it. It's what the Tower wants from him."
-----
One thread gained serious traction on the TowerNet forums:
[MegaTheory] Why the Tower HID Shiver's Identity — Even in Video Clips
> "Let me be clear. That footage wasn't censored by any streamer. It's system-level distortion. Meaning, the Tower itself is obscuring Shiver's face and voice. Why?
> Because he's not just a returning Player. He's a Variable.
> Someone the Tower is afraid to reveal. Someone who broke its rules during the Dream."
-----
And in a sealed command room high above Seoul, five guild masters stood in silence.
The footage looped again on the holoscreen.
A woman leaned forward in her chair, heels tapping the marble.
"Zoom on the blade."
"It's blurred, ma'am."
"Of course it is. He always hides the edge. Just like in the Dream Tower."
"His face too. Not a mask. It's like the system is refusing to render him."
The woman narrowed her eyes.
"Pull every clip. Every angle. I want a copy of the killcam. I want voice distortion samples, movement patterns, heatmaps, residual mana traces, interface logs—everything."
Someone hesitated. "But the Tower—"
"I don't care," she said coldly. "If he's back... we will find him."
-----
Meanwhile, the so called number 1 player Shiver was very busy battling the true endgame boss.
Washing dishes.
He stood with sleeves rolled up, bubbles clinging to his arms like sad excuses for armor. Warm water steamed against the cool kitchen air. A cracked plate waited in his hand like a ticking trap.
Behind him, Tae Ri sat on the counter, legs swinging, phone in hand. For the tenth time, the same blurred footage of "Shiver" looped across her screen—fast strikes, roots exploding, fire-wreathed sword carving through a glitched monster.
She watched in silence, then spoke without looking up.
"…So no one's ever seen his face?"
"Nope," Rei muttered, rinsing a mug.
"They say he's a legend. Floor's Breath. Did things no one else could. Found secrets no one knew existed. I mean, damn—he made guild leaders shut up and listen."
"I heard." Rei said.
Tae Ri lowered her phone, eyes narrowing. "You sure you never met him?"
Rei dried his hands with a towel, careful not to meet her gaze. "I might've passed him once. Maybe. Hard to tell. Everyone wore gear and effects and titles and… stuff."
She frowned. "You act weird whenever he comes up."
"I act weird around everything," he shot back. "That's just who I am."
"True," she said, but kept looking at him.
"You're thinking something," he added, eyeing her sideways.
"I'm always thinking. I'm smarter than you."
Rei blinked. "…Okay, r00d."
"Shiver saved the world," she muttered, watching the screen again. "And you're here burning eggs."
He held up a sponge like a protest sign. "I'm saving this household."
"Yeah. One cursed pan at a time."
From the other room, their mom's voice called out, sweet and sinister:
"If you two are done geeking out, Rei, I need you to buy groceries."
Rei froze.
"What? Me? Why me?"
"You're unemployed," his mom said cheerfully.
"I'm a Player!"
"You're a broke Player."
"…Ouch."
He turned to Tae Ri for backup.
She offered none. Just grinned.
"Buy snacks too," she said. "And eggs. You owe us, Mister Floor 0 Chef."
Rei groaned and grabbed his hoodie.
"Next time I fight a monster, I'm bringing it home."
"You better not," their mom warned.
"No promises!"
The door slammed behind him.
Tae Ri watched him go, then looked back at her phone.
The clip replayed—flashes of fire, blade arcs, a blur of a boy standing alone against a monster too big for the room it was in.
She watched Shiver fight.
Paused.
Rewound.
Then whispered to herself,
"…Weird."