Shojiro ascended the final step and entered the second floor.
The moment his foot touched the bone-carved platform, a heavy tremor rolled through the air. The chamber was wider than the first — a hollow dome lined with pulsating walls of sinew and marrow. Veins of crimson light traced across every surface, pulsing in sync with his heartbeat.
And then came the sound.
Rattle. Clatter. Scratch.
Thousands of bones clicked together, echoing from every direction.
Shojiro's eyes narrowed as countless skeletal figures began clawing their way out of the ground — far more than before. Rows upon rows of eyeless skulls turned toward him, their sockets blazing faint red.
He sighed through his nose, rolling his shoulders.
"Well," he muttered, "this is about to be easy."
The first line of skeletons lurched forward. Shojiro smirked — he could handle this. He braced, Vythra flickering faintly along his arms.
Then something changed.
The skeletons stopped mid-charge, twitching violently. Their spines cracked, their limbs contorted backward — and one by one, they began merging.
Bones fused to bones.
Ribs welded into ribs.
Skulls sank into each other, forming a grotesque, expanding mass of bone.
Shojiro froze, his grin fading.
"What the hell…"
The air grew heavy. The tower groaned.
From the center of the merging swarm, a single colossal shape began to take form — a monstrous skeleton rising higher and higher, its limbs thick as pillars, its head scraping the ceiling.
Its skull was jagged, crowned with twisted horns made from fused femurs. Each breath it took was like a gust of death — rattling, deep, hollow.
Shojiro's pulse spiked. Recognition flashed in his mind.
That hand. The one that punished him before.
His jaw tightened.
"But… I didn't run this time…"
Yet still, the ground cracked, and the colossal skeletal figure rose fully from the abyss, its ribcage glowing faintly red like molten magma.
The Tower's will trembled — watching, judging.
The air whispered like a voice just beyond hearing.
Shojiro stood there, confused, fists clenched, eyes locked on the towering abomination.
He wasn't running. He wasn't afraid.
So why… why had it come again?
The second floor was no longer a simple test.
The Tower had decided to change the rules.
The giant skeleton leaned forward, its movements grinding like an avalanche of rusted armor. The air around it pulsed with deep, rhythmic groans — every breath from its hollow chest shook the floor.
Shojiro steadied himself. The first floor had been easy once he'd learned the rule — keep moving forward, no running.
This time, he'd figure it out again.
Shojiro clenched his fists, his eyes locked on the giant skeleton towering before him.
Its hollow sockets burned with dull crimson — not rage, not hunger, but judgment.
The entire chamber seemed to wait, as if the Tower itself was holding its breath.
The creature swung its massive arm, a blur of white bone smashing through the air. Shojiro ducked instinctively — the shockwave tore past him, scattering dust and debris.
He smirked. "Too slow."
And then —
BOOM!
Something detonated behind him. A flash of red and white split the air, and he was thrown forward.
A searing pain ripped through his back — burning, tearing, piercing.
He hit the ground, gasping, his vision flashing white. He tried to look over his shoulder — embedded in his flesh were dozens of bone fragments, glowing faintly crimson.
Before he could even react—
CRACK.
The shards exploded again.
The impact tore open his back like shrapnel grenades bursting beneath his skin. Shojiro screamed, blood spraying across the bone floor. His muscles spasmed, his lungs seized.
Then, as suddenly as it came, the pain began to dull. His wounds started knitting shut — the familiar glow of Yggdrasil's healing taking hold, mending him from the inside out.
He coughed violently, clutching his chest. "Wh… what the hell was that?"
The giant skeleton loomed closer. Its empty sockets flickered, almost mocking.
Shojiro pushed himself to his knees.
"Fine. You wanna play dirty?" he spat, wiping blood from his mouth.
The next strike came — faster this time, a massive sweep aimed to crush him whole. Shojiro dodged again, rolling to the side—
BOOM!
Another explosion erupted directly behind him.
Bone shards tore into his shoulder, detonating on impact. His scream echoed through the chamber again.
The shockwave lifted him off the floor, blood and smoke bursting from his back in a violent spray.
The pain was unreal — too real. His body convulsed, his lungs burned.
Then, slowly, agonizingly, his wounds began to seal — the sap of Yggdrasil coursing through his veins, knitting bone and flesh together.
"GAAAH—! Damn it—!"
He fell to one knee, panting, his vision blurring through the blood dripping down his face.
His mind raced.
Why the explosions? Every time I dodge, something—
The skeleton reared back, its bony claws digging into the floor. Shojiro braced, but his body refused to move. The pain was too raw, too deep.
He could only stare up at the massive creature as it raised its arm for another strike.
And in that frozen second, realization began to creep into the corners of his mind.
He'd dodged.
He'd avoided the strike.
The first floor punished retreat.
The second floor… every time he dodged, it retaliated.
His blood boiled. His jaw clenched.
"So that's how it is…"
He clenched his jaw, breath ragged.
"…Don't tell me…"
But before he could confirm his theory — the next attack came crashing down.
This time, he didn't move.