The rain, the mud, the oppressive weight of the dying forest—all of it dissolved into a blinding white void.
It was like walking straight into the guts of a computer crash: glitching lights, error codes flickering at the edges of my vision, and a persistent, ominous humming in the background.
A voice echoed, cold and mechanical:
[Congratulations, Chosen One.]
I sighed, loudly, crossing my arms.
“Chosen one? Really? Did you guys even read the fine print before assigning me?”
No answer.
Of course not.
Just a soft shimmering in the void, like reality was thinking real hard about regretting its decisions.
Then… something appeared.
A shifting, formless mass, constantly morphing between states: sometimes vaguely humanoid, sometimes something that made my stomach churn just by looking at it.
Eyes blinked open across its surface.
Mouths whispered things in dead languages.
The whole thing felt wrong, like it was a concept half-remembered and poorly reconstructed.
[You have been selected to ascend the Tower.]
The mass "smiled," if you could call the unsettling stretching of pseudo-flesh a smile.
[You will be granted a gift. A Unique Ability tailored to your soul.]
I tilted my head, deadpan.
"A gift, huh? Tell me—if I return it within thirty days, do I get store credit or...?"
Again, no reaction.
Instead, a window popped up in front of me, made of crackling neon blue light, vibrating with unstable energy.
[Unique Ability: Chaos Alchemy] —Mix abilities, break rules, create absurd skills. —Success rate: Highly questionable. —Side effects: Almost guaranteed. —Warranty: None. Not even a little bit.
I stared at it for a long moment.
Then I laughed. Hard.
“CHAOS ALCHEMY?! That's not a power—that's a death wish wrapped in glitter and poor life choices!”
The Tower Thing hovered silently.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
I snorted, wiping a tear from my eye.
"Alright, alright. You know what? Fine. I'll take your cursed loot box ability. Let’s see how catastrophically stupid this can get."
I tapped the window.
Instantly, searing energy tore through me.
It felt like I was being rewritten on a molecular level by a drunk programmer who thought 'trial and error' was a lifestyle.
My vision blurred, my bones screamed, and my soul felt like it was learning how to dance for the first time—and failing miserably.
Painful?
Absolutely.
Terrifying?
Without question.
Regrets?
Maybe a little. Like, 8.5 out of 10.
As the sensation faded, the mass spoke again:
[Your first trial begins now.]
A swirling portal of crackling magic opened behind me, and I could feel the malicious glee bleeding from it.
[Ascend. Survive. Entertain.]
Entertain?
I narrowed my eyes.
"Wait. Hold up. Entertain?
Who do you think I am, a medieval jester? Am I supposed to juggle knives while dodging death traps for your twisted amusement?"
Silence.
Which, obviously, meant 'yes.'
I grumbled, adjusting the strap of my satchel.
"Listen here, you eldritch abomination—if I break my neck tripping over a rock on the first floor, I’m filing an official complaint with whoever manages cosmic HR."
The mass shimmered, unimpressed.
Typical.
Still, despite the growing dread gnawing at my stomach, a grin tugged at my lips.
Chaos Alchemy...
A random, chaotic, broken ability that could either save me or turn me into a walking hazard sign.
Honestly?
It felt kind of perfect.
I glanced back at the portal.
Crackles of unstable energy spat out from it, like it was trying to chew up reality itself.
Behind that doorway was the Tower—the place where heroes rose, legends fell, and countless idiots (like me) got chewed up and spat out.
I flexed my fingers.
"Alright, fine. Let’s dance, you overgrown Jenga tower."
Without hesitation, I stepped into the portal.
There was a sensation like falling through liquid electricity.
My mind twisted, my bones stretched in impossible ways, and reality itself seemed to buckle under the weight of my presence.
Or maybe that was just my stomach flipping from the portal turbulence.
Whatever.
When I finally stumbled out the other side, I found myself standing on a massive stone platform floating in the middle of an endless sky.
Other platforms drifted in the distance, connected by precarious bridges and pulsing with ominous energy.
A black monolith stood in the center, humming with power.
Runes older than history pulsed along its surface, and atop it floated a tiny, glowing orb.
Objective: Touch the Core. Survive.
Simple, right?
I cracked my knuckles.
“Touch the shiny orb. Got it. I’ve played enough cursed video games to know that nothing bad ever happens when you touch the glowing thing.”
Still, standing still wasn’t an option.
Already, the stone beneath my feet was starting to crumble.
“Great. Thanks, OSHA. Real safe work environment here.”
I sprinted forward, leaping across a rapidly crumbling gap toward the monolith.
Almost immediately, monsters began materializing from the air—shadowy figures with twisted limbs and screaming faces.
They moved fast, crawling and slithering toward me with murderous intent.
I pulled out my katana—still a bit too big for me—and grinned.
"Alright, you tutorial mobs. Come get wrecked."
And for the first time since this whole disaster started, I felt something stir in my chest.
Not fear.
Not regret.
Excitement.
Maybe... just maybe... this would be fun after all.