25th Floor — Two Years Later
"So this is what you meant by quizzes?"
I looked up at the giant ogre radiating more shinsoo than most Regulars could handle without their lungs tightening.
But the ogre wasn't the first thing that hit me.
The forest was.
The 25th Floor didn't feel like the earlier floors—stone corridors, arenas, borrowed skies. This place was alive in the way the shinsoo pools had been alive, except nobody had bothered to contain it.
Trees rose like pillars that had decided they didn't need architecture.
Their trunks were dark and wet-looking, bark slick with a sheen that wasn't rain. Leaves hung overhead in layered canopies, and every leaf glimmered faintly, like the forest had swallowed starlight and refused to give it back.
The air was thick.
Not humid.
Dense.
Shinsoo sat in the space between every branch, every root, every breath. It wasn't just present—it was crowded. The kind of pressure that made sound travel weird and made your instincts scream that this was a place where the Tower watched closely.
Even the wind felt filtered through something heavy.
When I inhaled, it tasted faintly metallic, like clean water on stone.
Selena stood beside me like she belonged here. Her posture didn't change, even with the forest's pressure leaning on us.
"Yes," she said. "It's only a checkpoint test. After hiding in shinsoo pools for most of these two years, you've recovered enough soul strength to climb into harsher tests."
I nodded, feeling something in me finally loosen.
Two years.
Not training. Not growth.
Repair.
When my soul cracked, anything that relied on a clean spiritual channel stopped responding properly. Call it Haki, authority, will—whatever name other worlds gave it, the outcome was the same.
If the channel was damaged, the output failed.
The shinsoo pools didn't give me new power.
They stitched the old one back together.
And this forest…
This forest felt like the pools' older sibling.
Not gentle.
Not patient.
A place where shinsoo didn't heal you.
It tested whether you deserved to keep breathing inside it.
The ogre stepped forward and bowed to Selena.
Not shallow. Not rushed. Respect.
He placed his axe upright before him like a ceremonial marker. Bones lashed around a slab of black stone, sharpened into a brutal edge. Twisted ridges framed his horns and fangs, making him look less like a man and more like a rite given flesh.
"I am Toyin of the Ogre Tribe," he said, voice booming with pride. "A junior test-official under the eyes of the Caretaker. May she bless this long-forgotten rite of passage."
As he spoke, the forest answered.
Leaves shivered without wind.
A low ripple moved through the shinsoo like the surface of a lake disturbed by something too large to see.
The pressure tightened—not enough to crush, but enough to remind me that this wasn't a private spar.
This was a floor rite.
I drew my sword and tossed the scabbard to Selena.
Shinsoo rose around me—lighter than Toyin's, but clean. Controlled.
It curled off my skin like heat haze, bending the air close to my arms.
Toyin's eyes narrowed, not at the blade, but at the flow.
"Ras," he said, grin widening, "since you aren't part of the Tower's normal setup, it should be acceptable to give you my true name. Let us spar to our hearts' content!"
I bowed once.
Warrior to warrior.
He laughed, delighted.
"A warrior among Irregulars? Let our duel be the story I tell my grandchildren for centuries to come!"
He launched.
I answered.
Shinsoo flooded my body—mythical-grade flesh refined back into something that could pass as human if you didn't look too closely. The forest's shinsoo pressed into me from every side, trying to mingle, trying to interfere, like the environment wanted to see what I would do with it.
My weapon tried to drink the energy on instinct.
I shut it down.
Not today.
I wanted this clean.
The first clash rang out—steel and stone—then the sound died fast, swallowed by the dense shinsoo between the trees. Even echoes didn't travel right here. Everything felt muffled, like we were fighting underwater, except our movements were too sharp for that.
Toyin smirked.
Too late.
His axe shifted mid-swing, pulling me into range as the blade twisted to bisect me.
My foot tapped the ground.
A small movement. A big decision.
The roots under my boot vibrated as shinsoo surged through the soil. I used it like a springboard, slipping past the edge by a breath.
Defense was fine.
Offense was better.
I landed behind him and nicked his neck—just enough to draw a thin red line.
His grin widened like he'd been gifted a compliment.
So did mine.
I launched a net of slashes, forcing his guard up.
Steel flashed between tree trunks, each arc leaving faint trails in the air where shinsoo parted and snapped back together, like a curtain cut and re-sewn instantly.
Toyin stomped.
The floor cratered.
Roots snapped.
Shinsoo exploded upward from the dirt like steam—except it was cold, sharp, and heavy. My balance jumped as the ground tried to throw me for daring to stand on it.
His axe came for the pause—perfectly timed.
I shoved back with the foot that hadn't shifted and barely dodged, catching the follow-through with my blade. Sparks spat between us, and the forest flinched—leaves fluttering, branches twitching, as if reacting to the violence like a nervous animal.
"A true warrior!" Toyin roared. "We must celebrate after this, warrior Ras!"
His boot hit my ribs like a wall.
I rolled across moss and broken roots, stopped, and launched back anyway.
I caught the shaft of his axe and slid down it—
—and he let go.
An uppercut slammed into my gut.
The air left my lungs in a rush.
I skidded back through shinsoo-thick air, boots carving twin lines in the soft ground until a tree trunk stopped me.
Not the tree.
The shinsoo around it.
It felt like pushing into resistance.
Like the forest didn't want me to use it as cover.
Toyin's massive frame moved too well. Trained. Precise. He wasn't just swinging power—he was reading timing.
We separated.
Locked eyes.
His aura shifted.
Ice.
Shinsoo hardened around him, turning clean and cruel. Frost crept up the dirt where his feet touched, lacing around roots and leaves like the forest was being claimed.
I smiled and let my own shinsoo change—not into something new, but into something honest.
Sun-law.
Not magic.
Not another system.
Shinsoo forced through inner nature until it stopped being neutral and started behaving like me.
Flame gathered—not as spectacle, but as quality. Heat shimmered along my forearms like my skin had become a boundary the air couldn't cross without paying a price.
The forest reacted.
Not fear.
Recognition.
The shinsoo overhead brightened faintly, leaves glimmering like they'd caught a sunrise they weren't supposed to see.
"Yes," I laughed, breathless. "We must celebrate. You're my first real opponent since I got here." I tilted my head toward Selena. "She even has the good wine I made her steal from the Ten Families."
Selena didn't deny it.
Toyin charged.
I parried and slid into his guard on purpose, driving a strike into his gut.
Shinsoo compressed at my wrist—tight, disciplined—forcing the Tower's language to carry my intent instead of whatever old-world label I used to rely on.
The instant my fist touched him, flames detonated.
Toyin flew like a meteor into the wall of a rock outcropping half-swallowed by roots.
Stone cracked.
A flock of small shinsoo-bright insects erupted from the canopy and vanished into the fog of dense air.
He stood back up anyway, laughing, tearing off ancient armor plates and lifting his axe again.
"Can't say I have techniques like that," he said, rubbing his stomach. "You already proved you can handle shinsoo better than most Rankers. So… can I say you passed and we keep du—" His cheeks twitched. "I mean… sparring?"
His grin softened, almost shy.
I blinked, surprised.
Then glanced at Selena.
She nodded once.
I nodded back.
"If that's enough to pass, sure." I rolled my shoulders. "But if you still want to go…"
Toyin's eyes lit up.
"We keep going."
I jumped.
His axe came down.
Selena walked off to claim a viewing spot—standing on the root of an enormous tree where shinsoo pooled at her feet like mist—leaving us to it.
This time I took a true stance.
I drove my sword into the ground.
The blade sank into soil that felt saturated with shinsoo, and the pressure climbed my arms like the earth was trying to crawl into me through the metal.
Toyin dropped his axe.
For half a heartbeat, I thought he was surrendering—
Then he blitzed.
Ice surged up like a wall.
Something struck me from behind it.
My body snapped back, air punching out of my lungs as I slammed through a curtain of shinsoo-thick mist between trees.
I refused to let myself turn fully into flame.
Not because I couldn't.
Because the repaired channel wasn't something I trusted raw yet. The forest had too much shinsoo. Too many variables. If I let it bloom uncontrolled, it wouldn't just burn him.
It could burn everything.
Toyin had caught on. This wasn't about power anymore—he was testing whether I could fight without letting my nature run away from me.
I caught myself on my hands, spun, and snapped a kick into his kidney, flame igniting at the last instant to amplify the impact.
"Don't get soft!" I barked. "Be an ogre, Toyin!"
My spirit surged outward.
The shinsoo around us rippled, leaves vibrating as if my intent had become a sound too low for ears.
Toyin's pressure answered, offsetting the mental push. His ice trembled and melted where heat and will embedded into it like poison.
"You're one to talk!" Toyin laughed. "You fight like one of those damn Golden Crow members!"
He slammed an ice-covered fist down.
The ground froze in a sheet. Roots locked solid. Then the impact shattered it all into a crater, ice splinters spraying through the air like broken glass.
"Oh?" I grinned. "There are members of my species here too? You'll have to take me to meet them. If you hate them, I can bully them for you."
I lunged and drove another flame-weighted strike into his gut—
—and my grin vanished.
Ice armor held.
His fist came down like a hammer.
I blocked with both arms, and the impact drove me into the ground hard enough to carve another crater. Frozen dirt cracked under my spine.
Toyin laughed like a war drum.
"You are an interesting Irregular warrior! I shall name my firstborn after you! If he is a flame user, I shall make him your student!"
I laughed back, breathless.
"Then you'll be counted among the few I treat like comrades. I've always had a soft spot for brutes."
I jumped straight at his face.
No feint.
No restraint.
I struck.
My fist rang against his jaw like a bell.
His eyes went wide—
Then narrowed in confusion.
The flames never came.
Only heat.
Heat—and my will—resonated through his skull like a gong. A pressure delivered through shinsoo, not through some "separate system." The forest's shinsoo carried it like a drum carries a strike.
Toyin swayed once.
Twice.
Then collapsed.
"…A new technique," I muttered, staring at my hand.
Selena was already there, walking closer across roots and moss like the forest didn't dare trip her.
I lifted my hand slightly.
"My old channel isn't something I trust raw yet," I said. "So I force shinsoo to carry the intent instead." I grinned. "Still within Tower rules."
Selena shook her head, disappointed.
And for the first time in two years…
I felt alive again.
Scene 2
The forest didn't go quiet at night.
It just changed the shape of its noise.
Shinsoo mist drifted between trees like breath. Tiny lights—bugs or spores or something that had evolved inside pressure—floated above the moss and vanished when you tried to look directly at them.
We built the fire on a patch of roots thick enough to hold heat without catching.
Even then, the shinsoo around it shimmered, as if the flame was arguing with the floor for the right to exist.
"This is great wine, Selena," I said, sipping. "You've been hiding the good stuff during our hot springs with Yuri."
Selena gave me a sly smile that dared me to keep talking.
Toyin sat across the fire, nursing a drink and his pride. His head was tilted slightly, like the ringing had decided to live there.
"What did you hit me with?" he asked. "My skull is still singing."
"My sun-law," I said casually. "And no—it isn't a new power system."
Toyin grunted, skeptical.
I kept going anyway. Yuri had drilled this into me until even I couldn't pretend to misunderstand it.
"I learned from Yuri. The shinsoo principles. The theories people push when they think they've discovered something new." I lifted my cup toward the fire like a toast. "Shinsoo quality changes based on your inner nature. Your spirit leans ice. Mine leans fire."
Toyin's eyes narrowed. Listening.
"Over time, mine evolved," I added. "Toward a sun-based definition. Because of my teacher. But I'm still a sun that burns crimson."
Selena snorted into her drink like she'd heard that line too many times.
Toyin scratched his jaw. "Fire to sun. Flames to heat…" His brow furrowed. "That sounds complicated."
"You're mixing stages."
I raised my hand and let shinsoo gather above my palm. It shaped into a small flame—clean, bright, controlled.
"This is flame," I said. "If it were ice, it would emit cold. Fire emits heat."
I held it closer to him so he could feel the temperature shift.
"Flame is the process. Heat is the result." I tightened the flame's edge. The heat sharpened without the flame growing bigger. "Sun-law is forcing shinsoo through a stricter definition. Same nature. Better control."
Toyin leaned in.
"So you removed a step," he muttered.
"Exactly." I took another drink. "Flame kills. Heat rattles. For a spar, heat is more forgiving."
"And the ringing?" Toyin asked slowly, voice quieter. "That pressure…"
I tapped my temple.
"My spirit. When my soul was damaged, the raw channel didn't work right. The pools healed it—but I don't trust it enough to throw it around naked." I glanced at Selena, then back to Toyin. "So I embed intent inside shinsoo. Tower language."
Selena refilled my cup without a word.
Toyin stared at the fire like he was trying to imagine his own ice doing the same thing.
"That's a very advanced theory," he said. "If you weren't an Irregular, I'd call it taboo—building a path off something we've never experienced like the sun. How would you fix that hole here?"
I exhaled through my nose.
"You can't. Not cleanly." I shrugged. "If I accepted a student here, I'd substitute the sun with lava, or a forge, or something the Tower actually allows people to understand firsthand."
I leaned forward slightly, voice steady.
"Adults in the Tower don't like lowering their thinking. 'The sun is bright' isn't the same as 'the shinsoo ball of light is bright.' Words change the world at later stages. You build your path with definitions."
Toyin nodded slowly, the understanding settling in like snow.
"I can train a student," I added, "but they'd never be formal members of my lineage of Suns unless my master sent them on their own journey to find their own understanding of what a sun is."
Toyin lifted a hand, summoning an ice shard. He stared at it like it was a riddle.
"Don't summon the ice," I said immediately. "Skip the process completely. Focus on your understanding of cold."
He hesitated.
"The simpler the idea, the stronger the path." I pointed at the shard. "For you, cold is primary. Ice is a product. For me, heat is primary. Flame is the spark that produces it."
Toyin crushed the shard in his fist.
Ice crawled over his knuckles and into the cracks of his skin, freezing deep enough that even bone looked like it wanted to join.
He closed his eyes.
"Cold is the winter my people survive year-round," he murmured. "A testament to our ancestors."
His voice got quieter.
"Ice is the freezing in my blood when I fought to start a fire as a child… during my coming of age."
The ice shifted.
Not sharper.
Not bigger.
Different.
"Is snow ice?" he whispered. "No. But it is cold like ice."
The sheets of ice on his hand softened into falling flakes—delicate, slow, controlled—like he was letting winter exist without needing a blade.
His teal eyes deepened.
Azure.
Then darker.
Deeper.
I watched his shinsoo change color as his understanding hardened.
Jet black.
The forest's shinsoo responded like it had been waiting for that note to be played.
I smiled.
"I dub you Toyin of the Black Frost."
Toyin's breath caught.
His spirit sharpened, not into rage, but into definition.
He stepped out of the shinsoo cage the Tower tried to keep everyone inside—not by escaping it, but by owning it.
A blueprint to divinity, crudely stolen from everyone by Zahard… but still there if you knew how to draw.
I leaned back and glanced at Selena.
"We'll be here for a while." I pointed with my cup. "Notify the head test-official that he's currently training. I don't want anyone ruining this."
Selena opened her mouth, ready to complain.
I cut her off with a grin.
"And I know you got more value out of that lesson than he did, so don't bother pretending you hate the rules."
Selena stared at me for a long second.
Then shook her head in defeat.
Understanding I only did it for this favor.
The fire crackled.
The forest breathed shinsoo around us.
And somewhere above the canopy, the Tower kept watching.