Tower 1 — Floor Four, After the Whisper
Silence returned.
Not the calm kind.
The kind that presses on the lungs.
The kind that makes the ears ring.
The kind that feels like something is watching from every angle.
Iris stood frozen, trembling so violently her spellbook rattled in her arms.
Lyra slowly lowered her bow, fingers stiff.
Ragnor turned in circles, fists up, sweat rolling down his face.
Aetherion didn't move, but his cosmic eyes narrowed, tracking the shadows.
And DRM…
DRM stood in the center of the corridor.
Head tilted.
Body still.
Mask facing the direction the voice vanished.
He wasn't scared.
He was interested.
Lyra whispered, barely breathing:
"…DRM knows him."
Aetherion answered quietly:
"He reacted. Even if only for a second."
Ragnor exhaled shakily.
"That laugh… the way it moved… that wasn't one of those Starved freaks."
Iris clung to Aetherion's sleeve.
"It wasn't a monster… I-It felt like a boy… like someone human…"
Aetherion's jaw tightened.
"No. Not human. Not anymore."
The darkness stirred.
All four stepped back immediately.
Hundreds of pale hands emerged—but only from the walls this time.
Not attacking.
Not reaching.
Just trembling.
Fearfully.
The Starved Ones were afraid to move.
Afraid to touch the corridor.
Afraid to breathe.
Lyra swallowed.
"…they're terrified. Not of us. Not of DRM."
She took a steadying breath.
"They're terrified of HIM."
Aetherion nodded slowly.
"Yes. Whoever just whispered—he outranks even DRM in their memory."
Iris whimpered.
"That shouldn't be possible…"
Ragnor whispered:
"Then why did he run away?"
No one answered.
But DRM began to walk again.
Deeper into the black.
The Starved parted instantly, collapsing to the floor, bowing, cowering, scraping backward like insects fleeing a torch.
The four had no choice but to follow.
The Corridor of Silent Screams
With each step they took, the walls pulsed faintly.
Lyra touched one gently.
It felt like wet skin.
She recoiled instantly.
"Disgusting…"
Aetherion murmured:
"They're alive. The Tower walls… they're breathing."
Ragnor grunted.
"We need to get out of this floor fast."
But Iris stopped.
Her eyes widened—fearfully, but also… strangely… knowingly.
"I can hear him."
Ragnor turned.
"Who?"
"That boy… the voice… he's—he's not far."
Aetherion frowned.
"How can you tell?"
Iris's voice cracked.
"Because… because his footsteps… they're not footsteps. They're… echoes of footsteps that aren't happening. I can hear where he should be, not where he is."
Lyra stared at her.
"That makes no sense."
Iris hugged herself.
"I-It's time distortion… like… he's stepping in possible futures instead of now…"
Silence.
Aetherion's eyes widened.
"…a temporal-adjacent power? At that age?"
Ragnor exhaled.
"So he's strong and annoying."
They moved ahead carefully.
Then—
The corridor split into three paths.
Left.
Right.
Forward.
DRM didn't hesitate.
He turned toward the right path, where the darkness was the densest.
Ragnor coughed.
"Right? That's the most cursed-looking one!"
Aetherion nodded.
"Which means it's where we must go."
They followed.
The Stalker Returns
The corridor grew narrower.
Colder.
The lights flickered, then died entirely.
Ragnor whispered:
"I can't see—"
Then a soft breath tickled his ear.
"…hello again…"
Ragnor spun, fist swinging—
Nothing.
Just cold air.
Iris screamed softly.
Lyra fired an arrow blindly.
Aetherion summoned a cosmic pulse.
Still nothing.
Only laughter.
Soft.
Distorted.
Childish.
Cruel.
"Slow… too slow… all of you…"
Iris sobbed.
"He's playing with us…"
Lyra hissed:
"Show yourself!"
A whisper slid across the ceiling.
"I will… when the time is right…"
Aetherion clenched his jaw.
"Tch. A child with a predator's arrogance."
Ragnor growled.
"He's not a child."
But then the voice changed.
Growing more distant…
More hollow…
More sad.
"…I wasn't always like this…"
They all froze.
Even Aetherion inhaled sharply.
Lyra whispered:
"…was that… pain?"
Ragnor frowned.
"No way. He's lying."
Iris shook her head violently.
"No! That emotion… it felt real…"
Only DRM didn't react.
He just kept walking forward at the same steady pace.
Until—
The voice whispered directly behind him.
"…do you remember me?"
All four shouted:
"DRM!!!"
But DRM didn't turn.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't acknowledge the voice.
Instead—
The corridor trembled.
Not from the stalker boy.
From something deeper in the Prison.
Something far larger.
Far hungrier.
The voice whispered one last time, retreating into the dark:
"…he's awake…"
Ragnor whispered:
"Who's awake?"
The Tower answered.
A massive roar erupted from the darkness ahead.
A roar that shook the marrow of their bones.
A roar of something ancient starving for centuries.
Lyra's eyes widened.
"Oh no—"
Iris covered her mouth, sobbing.
"That's the floor boss…"
Aetherion raised his aura instantly.
"Prepare yourselves—this is the real heart of Floor Four."
DRM stopped walking.
For the first time in the entire Tower…
He lifted his hand.
Silence fell.
The Starved screamed and scrambled away.
The darkness recoiled.
And the four survivors realized:
Whatever was ahead…
was terrified of DRM too.