The desert had fallen into a deceptive calm. The wind carried whispers, soft and haunting, as if the sands themselves were speaking. Evren Calden trudged through the dunes, the Abyssal Flame faintly glowing along his sword. Each step sank slightly into the fine, golden sand, but this floor of the Tower was no ordinary desert—it carried echoes, memories, and fragments of the past, alive in ways that tested both heart and mind.
Lira Solen moved silently beside him, eyes alert. "This floor… it's called the Sands of Remembrance," she murmured. "The Tower uses memory as its weapon. You'll see visions of people you've lost—or fear losing. It can crush the strongest hearts."
Evren's chest tightened. He thought of his mother, lying fragile in her hospital bed, her breaths shallow and uneven. Her illness was a cruel reality he could not fight with magic, with swords, or even with the Abyssal Flame. This is why I climb. This is why I endure.
As they advanced, the sands began to swirl unnaturally, rising into whirlwinds that shimmered with golden light. Then, figures emerged—shadows formed from memory, each indistinct but painfully familiar. Evren froze as one figure stepped forward: a vision of Caro Den, his fallen companion, smiling at him, alive as if the past had returned.
"Caro…" Evren whispered, a lump forming in his throat. "You… you're…"
But the figure's smile twisted, morphing into a mocking grin, eyes burning with accusation. "You left us, Evren Calden," the vision hissed. "You chose to survive while others perished."
Evren's grip on the Abyssal Flame tightened, flames flaring brighter in response to his anger and grief. "I didn't leave anyone! I did what I had to… to survive… to climb!" His voice shook, heart torn between guilt and determination.
The sands erupted, and more figures appeared—visions of his mother, distorted by fear and pain; visions of enemies who had fallen before him; even distorted versions of himself, each accusing, questioning, mocking. The Tower was testing not just his skill, but his very soul.
Lira struck beside him, cutting through illusions with swift precision. "Don't lose yourself, Evren! Remember what is real! Remember your promise!"
Evren exhaled sharply, focusing on the heartbeat of the Abyssal Flame. It pulsed with his will, a rhythm that anchored him to reality. With each swing of his sword, illusions shattered into golden dust, leaving only the real world behind.
Hours blurred into a haze of memory and motion. The sands shifted endlessly, conjuring new visions, new accusations, new temptations. Evren felt every emotion acutely—grief for lost companions, fear for his mother, anger at his own limitations—but he pressed forward. Each strike of the Abyssal Flame, each dodge, each precise movement reinforced his resolve.
The climax came when the largest vision appeared: his mother, lying frail, reaching out to him with a voice filled with both love and pain. "Evren… why are you here? You should be with me…"
Evren faltered, knees almost giving way. The Abyssal Flame flickered uncertainly, his own fears threatening to overwhelm him. Lira's voice cut through the haze: "Focus, Evren! She's alive because you endure! She lives because you climb! Don't let the Tower break you now!"
Drawing upon every ounce of will, Evren surged forward, flames blazing, striking the vision with the full force of the Abyssal Flame. The figure dissipated in a burst of golden light, leaving only the desert around him. The sands settled once more, calm and inert.
Evren sank to his knees, chest heaving, sweat and sand coating his body. The Tower whispered softly, approvingly, through the still air:
> "The Sands of Remembrance are conquered, Evren Calden. You have faced grief, guilt, and fear, and emerged unbroken. Proceed. The Desert of Souls continues, and your will has been tempered anew."
Lira approached, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder. "You've endured again, Evren. The Tower tried to break your heart, to make you question your purpose… but you didn't falter."
Evren rose slowly, muscles screaming, lungs burning, yet his resolve was unwavering. The desert still stretched endlessly before him, trials awaiting at every horizon, yet his spirit remained unbroken. Each challenge forged him, strengthened him, and guided him closer to the ultimate promise he carried—the salvation of his mother.
The climb continued. The Tower watched. And Evren Calden, tempered by memory, grief, and relentless promise, pressed forward—unyielding, unbroken, and resolute.