"An introduction the first 10 floors"

  The first 10 floors will be where your jorney begin. Here, you will take your first step toward transcending your fate. These first floors offers you time to breathe, to feel the weight of your choices, and to begin shaping the path ahead. It is a place of quiet beginnings, where the faintest spark that is you might begins to flicker and become a flame.

  "An introduction the first 10 floors"

  Now step forward and go into the trial, I, the 'Guide', wish you luck

  The grassfield around him disappear, leaving him standing in the middle of a void. The boy stood frozen, the Guide’s words echoing in his mind. "Step forward and go into the trial." His eyes darted toward the empty space ahead, then back to the nothingness beneath his feet. The introduction to the first 10 floors replayed in his head—the talk of beginnings, choices, and sparks becoming flames. It sounded grand, almost inspiring, but it didn’t feel real. Not to him. Not yet. His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists. He wasn’t ready—not for this, not for whatever lay ahead. The thought of stepping into the unknown made his stomach churn. What if he failed? What if he wasn’t strong enough? The questions clawed at him, each one heavier than the last. He wanted to stay here, just a little longer, to gather his thoughts, to prepare himself. But the Guide’s words gnawed at him, refusing to let him rest. He glanced around, as if searching for something to hold onto, something to anchor him. But there was nothing. Just the cold, empty stillness of the Tower. His legs felt like lead, refusing to move, and for a moment, he thought about staying where he was. Maybe if he waited, the trial would pass him by. Maybe he wouldn’t have to face it at all. But perhaps there was a reason for her words. Perhaps the Guide knew something he didn’t, something he couldn’t yet see. Taking a shaky breath, he forced himself to take a step forward. His heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing with thoughts of what might await him. He didn’t want to go, but he had to know. Whatever lay ahead, he would face it—because he couldn’t turn back.

  The boy’s foot landed on something soft, and the void around him vanished in an instant. He blinked, his breath catching as the world shifted into a dense forest. The air hit him first—thick and damp, carrying the scent of moss and wet earth. He froze, his eyes wide as he took in the towering trees around him. Their twisted branches reached high into the dim canopy, forming a web of shadows and faint streaks of light that filtered through the leaves. He had seen pictures of forests before, heard stories about them, but standing here now, surrounded by the sheer scale of it, was something else entirely. The trees seemed impossibly tall, their rough bark like the skin of some ancient, sleeping giant. It was overwhelming, strange, and utterly alien. As he stood there, his eyes lingering on the trees, he began to notice it. Tiny pinpricks of light dotted the bark, faint and scattered, like stars hidden in the wood. The glow wasn’t obvious—it matched the deep brown of the bark, blending so naturally that it was easy to miss. On the moss, the light was softer, a muted green that seemed to pulse faintly, as if the moss itself were alive. Even the air carried faint traces of it, like tiny motes of dust catching the light, shifting and drifting with no discernible pattern. His mind drifted back to the grassfield, to the strange corona of light that had covered everything—the grass, the stones, even the air itself. He hadn’t thought much of it then, too focused on the moment to process what he was seeing. But now, standing in the forest, he could see it more clearly. This was mana. The trait he had chosen allowed him to perceive it, and it was unlike anything he had imagined. He felt a strange mix of wonder and unease. How much of this had always been around him, unnoticed and unseen? How much of the world had been hidden from him until now? He start walking, his foot sank slightly into the mossy earth, and he winced at the faint squelch it made. Every sound felt amplified in the oppressive silence, each step a reminder of how exposed he was. He glanced over his shoulder, half-expecting to see something—or someone—following him. But there was nothing. Just the endless forest, alive with faint, shifting lights that seemed to watch him from the edges of his vision.

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  The boy stood still for a moment. He couldn’t just walk aimlessly. His throat felt dry, and he realized he hadn’t had water since... well, since before all of this began. The thought made his stomach twist. Water. Food. Shelter. He didn’t know how long this trial would last, but he knew he wouldn’t get far without those things. His eyes darted around the forest, searching for any sign of a stream or a clearing where he could rest safely. Among the faint lights of mana clinging to the trees and moss, there was a subtle shift in color, a faint concentration of blue. It wasn’t obvious at first, just a few dots here and there, but as he focused, he realized the blue lights were more numerous in one direction, clustering faintly in the distance. Could they lead him somewhere? He didn’t know, but it was better than wandering. With a deep breath, he decided to follow them. The uneven ground made every step a challenge. He stumbled more than once, scraping his hands against rough bark as he caught himself, his eyes fixed on the faint cluster of blue ahead. After what felt like hours, he heard it—a faint, trickling sound. His heart leapt, and he quickened his pace, pushing through the undergrowth until he found it: a stream, its clear water glinting faintly in the dim light. Relief washed over him as he dropped to his knees beside it, cupping his hands to drink. The water was cool and refreshing, easing the dryness in his throat and calming the pounding in his chest. He sat back, his hands resting on his knees as he stared at the stream. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. He would need more than water to survive, though. Food. Shelter. The forest floor felt too exposed, every shadow gnawing at his nerves, each rustle of leaves feeding the growing paranoia that something unseen was watching him, waiting for him to falter. His eyes landed on a tree near the stream, its trunk leaning, reaching for the area above the creak. It is shorter then it kind, probably due to those sprawling roots that anchored it, the angle made it look climbable. He stepped closer, brushing his fingers against the rough bark. He took a deep breath, steeling himself.

  He jumped, grabbing hold of the trunk, but his grip slipped almost immediately. His feet scrambled for purchase, but the rough surface didn’t provide enough to hold onto. He fell back to the ground with a thud, landing harder than he expected. He sat there for a moment, catching his breath and brushing dirt off his hands, his eyes fixed on the branches above. Back in the streets, he had climbed walls and fences to escape trouble, but this was nothing like that. The tree leaned, its grooves and knots offering some holds, but it was still a challenge unlike anything he’d faced before. Still, he had learned one thing from those days: if you kept trying, you’d eventually find a way. He stood again, brushing dirt off his hands, and studied the tree more carefully. The bark was uneven, with grooves and knots that might give him better holds. He took a deep breath and tried again, wrapping his arms around the trunk and pressing his feet against it. He pushed upward, but his arms burned, and his grip faltered. He slid back down, scraping his hands against the bark. His breaths came in short gasps, his body already aching. His mind replayed the attempt, analyzing every movement. He realized he had been relying too much on his arms. His legs were stronger—if he used them to push himself upward, it might work better. He forced himself to focus, adjusting his approach. He tried again, planting his feet more firmly and keeping his body pressed against the tree. He used his legs to push upward while his hands gripped the grooves in the bark. He made it a little higher this time, but his strength gave out, and he fell back to the ground, landing hard on his side. Pain shot through his arm, and he groaned, clutching it as he rolled onto his back. His chest heaved as he stared up at the canopy, frustration and exhaustion settling in. He forced himself to his feet, to try again.

  He had tried over and over, his mind replaying each failed attempt. He could feel his body adjusting, his movements becoming more deliberate. Without realizing it, he tapped into his mana, his muscles surging with strength and precision. The warmth spread through him, subtle but steady, aligning his body with his thoughts. He jumped again, this time gripping the trunk firmly and using his legs to push upward in small, controlled bursts. His hands found holds more easily, and he pulled himself upward with a steady rhythm. He focused on keeping his movements smooth and efficient, his body working in sync with his mind. Each step felt more natural, as though his body was learning and adapting with every motion. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he reached a branch wide enough to sit on. He hauled himself onto it, collapsing against the trunk as he caught his breath. His limbs trembled, and exhaustion hit him like a wave. He hadn’t realized how much energy he’d burned until now. His mana had pushed him further than he thought possible, but it left him drained. For a moment, he allowed himself to feel relief. He was off the ground, safer than before.