After leaving the guild, the sun had already begun its slow descent, painting the sky in shades of orange and gray.
Aura and Falco followed the mountain path leading north of the city, until a towering structure came into view — a colossal spire that seemed to pierce the heavens, as if defying the clouds themselves.
Its surface shimmered with faint, moving sigils of light — like the breathing of some ancient, slumbering giant.
Falco, flying beside him, murmured,
— "That's the Tower of Souls… the place that tests the essence of one's spirit. No tricks here, no luck — every step inside is guided by your will alone."
Aura gazed up in awe.
— "It feels like it's watching me… like it already knows I'm coming."
— "It does. The Tower decides how to test each person. And if your spirit isn't ready…" Falco's tone darkened. "It devours you."
Aura approached the massive gate while Falco stopped at the edge.
— "I can't go in with you," Falco said. "The Tower only allows the spirit of its chosen. But don't worry — I'll be watching from outside."
Aura nodded once, then reached toward the engraved sigils on the gate.
The moment his fingers touched them, a deep, resonant sound echoed through the air. The gates began to open slowly.
He stepped forward. Light swallowed everything — then silence.
When Aura opened his eyes again, he stood in an endless gray expanse.
The ground beneath him was like a mirror, reflecting his image perfectly.
But as he looked closer, the reflection… moved on its own.
It smiled — a cruel, mocking smile — and spoke with his exact voice:
— "Pathetic… after all this, you still dare call yourself a warrior?"
Aura took a step back, his hand gripping his sword.
— "What is this?!"
The other laughed.
— "I'm you. But without your weakness… without your fear."
Before Aura could react, his reflection lunged forward — faster than sight.
A black blade flashed into existence, and the first clash split the silence like thunder tearing through the void.
The blow staggered Aura; the next one carved a wound into his shoulder.
He fought to stay upright, struggling to parry, but every strike from his mirror self struck deeper — not just into his flesh, but into every buried doubt inside him.
And with each strike, that voice — his own voice — echoed in his head:
— "You think the Blade of Endings will make you strong? A weak soul remains weak — even if it wields the greatest sword!"
Aura gritted his teeth, driving his blade into the mirrored ground.
The gray light around him began to twist, as if something within him was awakening.
He remembered every word of scorn, every mocking glance, every moment he was called "weak."
Then Falco's voice resonated softly in his mind:
— "The Tower doesn't test strength. It tests faith — the faith you have in your own spirit. Don't fight with hatred. Fight to prove you are more than a fading speck of gray."
Aura lifted his head. The sword in his hand gleamed with silver light.
He shouted,
— "I am not weak!"
A burst of brilliance shattered the space around him — the reflection splintered like glass and vanished into nothingness.
Silence returned, and a whisper brushed his ear:
> "First level… completed."
Before he could breathe, the light engulfed him once more — and he found himself in a new arena.
The ground was covered with human-shaped shadows, faceless and shifting, all turning toward him.
From outside, Falco's voice came faintly:
— "This isn't a test of power anymore… it's a test of resolve. Lose control here, and the Tower will keep you forever."
Aura raised his sword again, his eyes glowing with pale gray light.
— "Come then… show me everything you've got."