Akira took one last look at Seraphine, her golden aura flickering like a quiet sun as she watched him ascend. She said nothing more. She didn't have to — the weight of her words still lingered in him like a brand on his chest.
"The tower will try to turn your heart against you…?"
Akira clenched his fists.
Let it try. I'm not breaking.
With a deep breath, he stepped onto the first stair.
Immediately, the air shifted.
A soft hum filled the stairwell, a sound low and resonant, almost like distant chanting. The staircase itself was impossibly tall, spiraling upward in an endless coil of white stone, the walls glowing faintly with shifting runes.
As he walked, Akira felt the pressure around him intensify — not physically, but emotionally, like each step peeled back a memory and forced him to feel it again. He grit his teeth and pushed forward.
The higher he went, the louder the humming became.
Then, suddenly—
Step. Step. Step.
Footsteps joined his.
Akira froze.
Someone was climbing the stairs behind him.
Slowly, with caution, he turned around—
And his breath caught.
It wasn't a shadow. It wasn't an illusion. It wasn't another clone.
It was a boy. A younger boy. No older than ten.
His black hair was messy, falling over a pair of sharp crimson eyes — eyes Akira had seen many times in his own reflection. The boy wore a simple white kimono, the sleeves torn at the edges, as if he had run through forests and rubble.
Akira's pulse quickened.
He knew this kid.
"...Hikari?" Akira breathed, his chest tightening.
His little brother.
Before Akira could move, a voice — gentle yet merciless — echoed in the stairwell.
[ Do not forget ] the System whispered.
[The Fifteenth Floor is the Stairway of Echoes. This floor tests the weight of your heart.]
The boy stared at him silently.
Akira swallowed hard. "Hikari… stay back. This floor isn't safe."
No response.
Just a small, hesitant step toward him.
Then another.
Akira felt his knees tremble.
This wasn't an enemy — this wasn't something he could cut down with a sword.
This was the one memory he had spent years trying to bury.
Hikari stopped just one meter away and tilted his head.
"Why did you leave me, Akira?"
The words stabbed deeper than any blade.
Akira staggered backward. "No… You're not him. You're not real."
[Real or not]
the System said, [ an echo reveals what lives in your heart. ]
Hikari's voice sharpened.
"You said you'd protect me. But you left. You walked away, and you never came back."
Akira's throat closed.
"I… I didn't walk away. I—"
But the boy cut him off, eyes narrowing.
"You left."
The stairwell flickered.
For a moment, Akira stood not on white stone stairs, but on a burning street. Flaming rubble surrounded him. The sky was dark with smoke. People screamed in the distance.
And Hikari — the real Hikari — reached for him.
"Akira! Help me!"
Akira lunged forward—
But as he reached, the image dissolved like fog.
Hikari stood on the stairs again, expression unreadable.
"You could have saved me," the boy whispered. "You didn't."
Akira slammed his eyes shut.
His breath shook.
His hands trembled.
"I couldn't save you," he whispered. "I tried. I— I wasn't strong enough."
"Then why do you pretend you can save anyone now?"
Akira froze.
The words echoed around him. Twisting. Curling.
Sinking into every crack inside his chest.
His heart felt carved open.
He'd always acted strong. Always pushed forward. But deep down — deep, deep down — he knew the truth.
He wasn't climbing the tower to become a hero. He wasn't climbing it to defeat some great evil; He wasn't climbing it for revenge.
He was climbing it…
Because he couldn't forgive himself.
Hikari took another step toward him.
"You pretend to be brave. You pretend to fight for others.
But all you're doing is running."
Akira felt his pulse hammer in his ears.
"Hikari… stop. Please."
The boy stared at him.
"Then tell me the truth.
Why are you climbing?"
Akira's breath hitched.
He had never spoken it aloud.
Not to Seraphine, not to the System. Not even to himself.
But here — now — the echo of his own heart demanded an answer.
Slowly, Akira lowered his sword.
He let his shoulders drop.
And he finally spoke.
"I'm climbing…"
His voice cracked.
"…because I want to become strong enough to save someone. Even if I failed before… even if I can't change the past."
The stairwell pulsed.
Hikari didn't move.
Akira continued, words spilling out like a dam breaking.
"I'm climbing… because if I stop, then everything I lost… everything you lost… it'll mean nothing."
His fist tightened.
"I want to face the person I become. Light or darkness — I don't care. I want to control it, not run from it."
The air trembled.
Hikari blinked.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Then the boy slowly reached out… and poked Akira's forehead.
Just like he used to.
Akira froze.
Hikari's expression softened — just a little.
"You always were dramatic," the boy murmured. "At least you're finally being honest."
The stairwell glowed brighter.
Hikari stepped back, his form flickering like candlelight.
"Akira?"
"Yeah?"
"I was never angry at you."
Akira's breath shuddered.
"Then why—"
"I said the things you were too afraid to say to yourself," Hikari answered. "That's my role here."
He smiled — a small, innocent smile that Akira remembered.
"Keep climbing, big brother."
Akira's eyes stung.
Hikari dissolved into light, drifting upward like floating sparks until the last trace of him vanished.
Silence returned.
Akira stood there for a long moment, breathing slowly, letting the ache in his chest settle into something steady — something warm.
The System spoke.
"Emotional barrier cleared. Heart alignment stabilized. Akira, you are ready for the Fifteenth Floor."
Akira nodded.
His steps felt lighter.
He walked the final stretch of the staircase until he reached a large circular platform.
A glowing gate towered at the center, swirling with threads of silver light.
Akira exhaled.
"Alright. Let's see what's next."
He stepped through—
Fifteenth Floor: The Hall of Mirrors
A flash of light.
Akira blinked and found himself standing in an enormous room covered entirely in black glass — floor to ceiling mirrors stretching infinitely in every direction.
His reflection stared back at him dozens, hundreds, thousands of times.
The air buzzed with static energy.
Then, one by one, the reflections blinked.
Not in sync.
Not with him.
Akira's grip tightened on his sword.
"Okay. That's not creepy at all."
The reflections began to move independently — some walking, some attacking, some whispering silently behind the mirror's surface.
Then—
CRACK
One reflection stepped forward through the glass like water and landed directly in front of him.
It looked just like him — same stance, same sword — but its eyes glowed bright neon blue.
The clone smirked.
"Did you think it was over? Facing your past was only step one."
Akira raised an eyebrow. "Another copy of me? Seriously?"
The blue-eyed reflection laughed.
"I'm not a copy.
I'm every future you fear becoming."
Akira's chest tightened.
The reflection raised its sword.
"And I won't disappear until you accept every part of yourself — even the parts you hate."
Akira steadied himself.
"Fine then," he said softly. "Come at me."
They clashed instantly.
The reflection was fast — faster than the last clone. Every move was precise, aggressive, relentless, as if made from distilled ambition. Each strike cut through the air with sharp skill.
Akira blocked, countered, dodged —
But the reflection adapted instantly, learning every pattern in seconds.
"You're still holding back," it taunted. "Still thinking about others. Still afraid to use all your strength."
Akira pushed forward, his sword sparking as it clashed against its twin.
"I choose who I hurt," Akira growled. "I choose what I become."
The reflection tilted its head.
"Do you?"
It vanished.
Akira blinked—
Then suddenly the reflection was behind him, blade raised for a clean strike.
Akira turned sharply, swinging upward—
CLANG!
Sparks danced across the mirrored floor.
The reflection landed gracefully, smirking.
Akira gritted his teeth.
He had no room for hesitation.
No room for doubt. He didn't need rage. He didn't need fear, He didn't need darkness.
'He needed clarity'
He steadied his breath.
Centered his focus.
Closed his eyes —
And let the energy inside him flow naturally, without force, without fear.
His eyes snapped open — glowing faint red.
The reflection's smile faltered.
Akira moved.
Not faster.
Not stronger.
Just cleaner —
Every strike flowed like water, every block redirected momentum with ease. The reflection grew desperate, attacking wildly now.
Akira stepped in.
Blocked.
Turned his blade.
Pressed it gently against the reflection's chest.
"Stop trying to be perfect," Akira said quietly. "You're not me. I'm not you. But we're both part of the same path."
The reflection's eyes widened.
Then it shattered into hundreds of blue fragments that floated upward like stars.
The mirrors around the hall cleared, revealing a single doorway at the far end.
The System spoke:
"Trial complete. Akira, proceed to the Sixteenth Floor."
Akira let out a long exhale.
"Only sixteen floors in… and this tower keeps trying to read my entire soul."
He shook his head with a small, determined smile.
"Fine. Let it try."
He walked toward the doorway.
As he reached the threshold, a faint voice echoed — one he hadn't heard since waking on the first floor.
A calm, ancient voice.
"Akira… the higher you climb, the closer you come to the truth."
Akira paused.
"The truth of what?"
The voice answered:
"The truth of why you were chosen."
Akira's eyes widened.
But before he could ask more, the doorway swallowed him in light —
And the Sixteenth Floor began.