The mirrored platform ended in silence, but silence didn't mean safety. They climbed again, the air growing thinner, their breaths sharper. Every step felt like the tower was waiting, biding its time for the final strike.
The staircase led to a narrow chamber — a steel cage with no windows, only a single glowing script on the far wall.
"Final Trial.
Only half may ascend.
Decide."
The words pulsed with red light, like a heartbeat.
Haruto's breath hitched. "Half? What the hell does that mean?"
"It means exactly what it says," Arata replied smoothly, scanning the message. "Half of us will die here, unless we choose."
Riku's voice cracked with anger. "Choose?! That's insane! We're not deciding who lives and who dies!"
Miyako Ren's laugh was soft, almost melodic. "Then the tower will decide for us. And I doubt its mercy." She leaned against the wall, eyes glittering. "What's it going to be, Arata-kun?"
Aya clutched his arm, shaking her head desperately. "N-no… please, we can't—"
The wall groaned, steel shifting. Beneath their feet, the floor split into jagged panels. Metal teeth slid open, revealing the endless dark below. The chamber began to sink, and the platform beneath them creaked dangerously.
Time was running out.
Panic erupted. A boy in a suit shoved forward, screaming, "I won't die here! You hear me?!" He lunged toward Aya, trying to push her off.
A hand shot out — not Aya's, not Haruto's.
Arata's.
In one fluid motion, he caught the boy's wrist and twisted. Bones snapped like dry twigs. The boy howled, collapsing to his knees. Arata shoved him backward without hesitation. He tumbled into the darkness, his scream cut short by silence.
Everyone froze.
Arata's eyes were calm, empty. "That's one."
Aya's sobs choked in her throat. Haruto's fists shook. Riku looked ready to vomit.
But no one moved.
The floor split further, pieces dropping away. Blood dripped from the jagged steel where others had been torn down. The tower was hungry.
Ren smirked, brushing hair behind her ear. "Efficient. Cold. I like it." She leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for others to hear. "Who's next, Arata-kun?"
Arata's gaze swept the group. "You all want to survive? Then you'll face the truth. Some of you are weak. Some of you are liabilities. The faster you accept it, the faster we climb."
His voice was steady, commanding. Fear wrapped around the survivors like chains.
Another girl tried to run — the platform beneath her collapsed. Her body split across steel teeth, blood painting the chamber.
Half gone.
The survivors shrieked. Aya clung tighter to Arata, torn between fear and devotion. Haruto looked ready to tear his throat out, but his body wouldn't move. Riku's hatred burned silently.
Ren's smile only deepened. "Delicious."
At last, the platform stabilized. The script on the wall changed:
"Trial Complete. Survivors may ascend."
There were only eight left. Out of dozens.
The staircase appeared again, leading upward.
Arata stepped onto it first, his expression unreadable. The others followed in silence, broken, shattered.
Behind them, the steel cage closed like a mouth sealing a meal.
The Tower Game had been fed.