The gates of the Tower closed behind them with a thunderous echo, sealing away the outside world. Ahead stretched a staircase of crystal light, spiraling upward into infinity. Each step glimmered like glass, reflecting fragments of the climbers' faces—not as they were, but as they could have been.
Prava hesitated at the first step. In its reflection, she did not see herself—a girl holding the Heart Key—but a queen crowned in fire, standing alone amidst ruins.
Her breath caught. "This… is me?"
Allara glanced down at her own reflection. A dragon of shadow coiled behind her image, its wings wrapping around her like a prison. She clenched her jaw but stepped forward.
Rafael looked into his reflection and saw blood on his hands—blood that would never wash away. His chest tightened, but he climbed.
As they ascended, the stairs shifted, multiplying their fears into illusions that bled into reality. Flames licked at their feet, chains rattled in the air, voices of the past whispered temptations and doubts.
"Give in…" the whispers said. "Turn back… You are not worthy."
Prava nearly stumbled, but Allara caught her hand.
"Don't look too long," Allara warned. "They want us to believe the lies. Step by step—that's how we survive."
The higher they climbed, the heavier the illusions pressed down on them. At the halfway mark, the stairs shattered into fragments of floating glass, each piece requiring a leap of faith. Below was nothing but endless void.
Rafael growled, spreading his arms protectively.
"Hold on to me. If we fall, we fall together."
Prava tightened her grip on the Heart Key, whispering to herself:
"Not an illusion. Not fear. We are real. We climb."
And so, together, they leapt across the void, step by step, toward the unseen summit of the Tower of Starlight.