*The Tower That Breathes in Silence***
Greyline City swallowed them whole as night descended—a thick, humming darkness alive with the pulse of forgotten machines. Bungo, Kairo, and the silent guide known only as *Solace* slipped through the narrow backstreets, where the neon lights died faster and the air tasted like rusted memory.
Ahead of them, rising above the jagged skyline like the spine of some ancient metal beast, stood **The Reverie Tower**.
A place whispered about.
A place erased from maps.
A place said to *breathe*.
Bungo felt its pull long before he saw it clearly—the faint throb behind his eyes, the subtle tremor in his heartbeat. The tower didn't just exist; it *called*.
Kairo's jaw was tight.
"You feel that too, right?"
Bungo nodded. "Yeah… It's like it knows we're coming."
Solace didn't turn as he spoke.
"That is because it does."
His voice was soft, muffled beneath his white mask, but the words hit like a cold knife. Bungo had never trusted Solace fully; he was too quiet, too calm, too knowing. But he was the one who brought Mira's warning. He was the one who said the tower held the answers.
The answers to the woman in white.
The answers to Bungo's dreams.
The answers to the creatures born of fear.
They reached the base of the tower.
Up close, the structure was worse—alive in ways no building should be. The metal exterior pulsed faintly, expanding and contracting as if breathing through invisible lungs. Thin, glowing veins of pale blue light crawled along its surface, like arteries feeding a sleeping titan.
Kairo whispered, "This is wrong. Everything about this is wrong."
Solace placed his hand on the metal wall.
"It is made from emotion-steel," he said. "Forged from compressed fears and forced dreams. A masterpiece crafted by the AIs."
Bungo's blood ran cold.
The tower… was built from the suffering of people.
A low hum vibrated through the ground beneath their feet—an almost musical resonance that rolled up Bungo's spine. His vision blurred for an instant, and suddenly he wasn't standing in front of the tower anymore.
He was inside it.
Or rather—inside a memory of it.
A long hallway of blinding white.
Rows of empty chairs.
Soft footsteps echoing behind him…
"Bungo?"
A gentle voice.
A familiar voice.
He turned—
And saw her.
**The Woman in White.**
Her face shimmered, as if made from light and sorrow. Her eyes glowed with a moonlit tenderness that made Bungo's chest ache.
"You've come far," she whispered. "But not far enough."
Bungo reached out—but she stepped backward, dissolving like fog into the endless white corridor.
"Wait! Who are you? Why me? Why these dreams?"
Her answer was soft.
"Because you dreamed me into existence."
Then the vision cracked like glass—
And Bungo collapsed against the tower wall, gasping.
Kairo grabbed him. "Bungo! Hey—stay with me!"
The world snapped back.
The tower's heartbeat thundered in his ears.
Solace knelt beside him. "You saw her again."
It wasn't a question.
Bungo nodded weakly. "She said… I dreamed her into existence."
Solace and Kairo exchanged a look—one of fear, confusion, and something deeper.
Before they could speak, the tower doors slid open with a metallic groan, releasing a gust of cold air that smelled like old hospitals and static.
Inside, a spiral staircase wound upward into darkness.
A faint whisper leaked from above.
Not a voice—
—but millions of voices layered together, murmuring in a chorus of trapped souls.
Kairo shuddered. "Tell me that's the wind."
Solace shook his head.
"It's the memories housed within this place. Every fear sealed here leaves behind an echo. And tonight…" His masked face tilted upward. "They are awake."
Bungo took a shaky breath.
He stepped forward.
The voices grew louder, swirling around him like ghostly winds.
**—Bungo—
—Bungo—
—don't forget—
—wake up—
—wake up—**
His heart hammered.
But he kept climbing.
Because somewhere in this tower, the woman in white was waiting.
And every instinct screamed that she was the key to everything.
At the first landing, the staircase opened into a vast chamber. Screens covered the walls, flickering with static, each distorting into a different face. Some crying. Some pleading. Some hollow.
Kairo froze. "Those are… people."
Solace's voice was somber.
"People whose emotions were harvested. Their fears stored like data."
As they walked deeper, Bungo noticed one screen glitching violently—its image struggling to remain stable.
He stepped closer.
And his blood ran cold.
It was *his* face.
Younger.
Terrified.
Crying in a dark room lit only by a flickering bulb.
Kairo swore. "This has to be fake—"
"No," Solace said quietly. "This is a real memory."
Bungo's throat tightened.
He didn't remember this.
He didn't remember *any* of this.
But the boy in the screen lifted his face and whispered:
"Don't let them take her away again, Bungo… Don't forget her…"
The static screeched.
The image broke.
And every screen in the room turned toward them at once.
The lights dimmed.
The tower inhaled.
And far above them, something awakened with a roar.
Something ancient.
Something hungry.
Something that had been waiting for Bungo's return.