Tower 1 — Floor 24, Whispering Galleries
Floor 24 wasn't loud.
It was worse.
Everything simply whispered.
A thousand tiny voices drifting through the white-stone hallways, like ghosts too exhausted to scream.
Footsteps echoed strangely—stretching longer than they should, repeating like faint memories replaying themselves.
The ceilings curved into ribbed arches.
The walls were carved with strange murals—faces without eyes, hands reaching through cracks, silhouettes kneeling toward something unseen.
Ragnor rubbed his arms.
"…I hate this floor already."
Iris whispered:
"I-I can feel someone breathing… but I can't tell where from…"
Lyra scanned each mural carefully.
"They say whisper floors react to fear."
Aetherion corrected her softly:
"No.
They react to identity.
To who we think we are."
Rio froze.
Identity.
The word echoed inside him.
His heartbeat quickened.
He didn't know why.
Bloodplate Guild Interference
Before they moved deeper, Eliron and his guild appeared again—
not attacking,
not smiling this time.
Just watching.
Hands on weapons.
Eyes scanning Rio specifically.
Eliron's voice carried through the whispering halls:
"You got lucky last floor. The little masked thing bailed you out."
Ragnor cracked his neck.
"You want round two?! Let's go!"
Lyra grabbed him.
"Ragnor, don't be stupid."
Eliron stepped closer, gaze locked on Rio.
"That boy—"
"—is wrong."
Rio flinched at the word.
Wrong.
Aetherion spoke calmly, yet with sharpened tone:
"Step back, Eliron.
The Tower doesn't tolerate conflict on whisper floors."
Eliron smiled thinly.
"Oh, I know.
But lucky for you—"
He pointed upward.
"—someone else is hunting him first."
The group tensed.
Rio felt something icy run down his spine.
Not a monster.
Not a wanderer.
Not a devourer.
Something lighter.
Quieter.
Watching him from above.
The whispers grew louder.
"…found… you…"
"…little echo…"
"…false…"
"…borrowed name…"
"…who is inside you…?"
Rio held his head, trembling.
Iris rushed to him.
"Rio?! Are you hearing something?!"
He nodded.
"I… I don't think they're talking to us."
Lyra's eyes narrowed.
"Then to who?"
Rio lifted his head.
Straight up—
—to the ceiling beams.
To the darkness above them.
To the silhouette crouched upside-down,
body pressed against stone,
legs folded like a spider,
eyes glowing faintly from the shadows.
The Shadow froze in place.
No name.
No face.
Just a blur.
Aetherion's eyes widened.
"…that presence again."
The same aura from Floor 4.
Lighter than air.
Darker than space.
Silent.
Predatory.
Lyra whispered:
"It followed us this far…?"
Ragnor clenched his fist.
"IF YOU WANT HIM—COME DOWN AND FIGHT US!!"
The Shadow didn't move.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't react.
Just… watched Rio.
Studied him.
Measured him.
Eliron nodded slowly.
"That's the one.
The one killing climbers at night.
The Tower's newest nightmare."
Iris swallowed hard.
"It's not attacking… why?"
Aetherion answered quietly:
"Because it's hunting strategically.
Waiting.
Studying."
Lyra stepped protectively in front of Rio.
"You're not getting him."
The Shadow tilted its head—
exactly like DRM did.
Only colder.
Emptier.
Hungrier.
Then—
It vanished into the walls.
No sound.
No air displacement.
Just gone.
Eliron let out a low whistle.
"That thing's not after me,
so I'll leave you to deal with it."
He waved mockingly.
"Try not to die before Floor 25."
Lyra aimed her bow.
"Eliron—!"
Aetherion grabbed her shoulder.
"Let him go.
We have bigger problems."
Lyra reluctantly lowered her bow, glaring as Bloodplate faded into another corridor.
Whispers Turn to Questions
As they walked deeper, the murals seemed to change.
Faces turned toward Rio.
Hands pointed at him.
Shadows leaned inward.
The whispers grew clearer.
"You do not belong."
"Whose memory are you stealing?"
"What name hides inside you?"
Rio slowed his steps.
Iris hugged him tightly.
"Don't listen to them…"
Rio whispered back:
"I… don't want to.
But they're not lying."
Lyra turned, eyes narrowing sharply.
"What does that mean?"
Rio hesitated.
He opened his mouth—
but the floor reacted instantly.
A loud crack tore through the hall.
RUNES BLARED:
"DO NOT SPEAK YOUR NAME."
Aetherion paled.
"…he was about to trigger the floor's identity trap."
Iris gasped.
"T-This floor punishes anyone who reveals a false identity!"
Ragnor pointed at Rio.
"RIO'S identity is false?!"
Lyra shot him a deadly glare.
"Ragnor. Shut. Up."
The whispering intensified.
Rio clutched his head, stumbling.
The whispers swirled around him:
"Who are you really?"
"Why are you shaped like that?"
"Whose face is underneath?"
"Whose memories fill your bones?"
Then—
A deeper whisper.
Old.
Sharp.
Cold.
Unlike the others.
Right beside his ear:
"You are not Rio."
Rio's knees buckled.
He fell forward—
—but Lyra caught him.
"RIO!!"
Iris cast a chrono-calm around him, slowing the overwhelming influx.
Aetherion analyzed the runes.
"This floor is reacting stronger to him than to anyone I've ever seen.
It's like it's trying to peel something off him."
Ragnor looked terrified for the first time in a while.
"ARE WE SURE HE'S NOT POSSESSED?!"
Rio's breath shook violently.
His hands trembling.
"I… I don't know…"
He whispered:
"…maybe I am."
The whispers screamed.
The walls cracked.
The floor shook.
And the whisper floor collapsed into a trial, triggered by Rio alone.