Sylvia's footsteps echoed softly as she ascended the spiral staircase from the fiftieth floor to the next. The stairs were made of solid black stone, slick with moisture and dimly lit by blue crystals embedded in the walls. Though the tower was built in an ancient architectural style, the magical aura that flowed throughout made everything feel alive, as if the structure itself had a consciousness.
The moment Sylvia stepped onto the fifty-first floor, she immediately sensed something was wrong. The air here was drier but carried the scent of metal like old blood and steel. There were no sounds other than her own footsteps and steady breathing.
THUD!!!
Suddenly, from the upper right side of the room, a massive axe came hurtling toward her like lightning. Its blade was enormous, serrated along the edge, and the length of its handle spoke of immense power behind the throw.
