Ascension Beyond

The moment Captain Ryker Zhao's feed was cut, the entire world was frozen in a breathless silence.

For hours afterward, the news channels replayed his final words over and over: "The Tower isn't just a structure. It's a trap." No one had expected such a testimony. No one knew how to process what they had heard. But one thing was now certain for every citizen on Earth: the threat was far worse than anyone had imagined.

In government offices, war rooms, laboratories, and military headquarters, global leaders scrambled to respond. The countdown continued. Two days remained.

After the press conference ended, Captain Zhao was escorted off stage. The cameras followed his exit briefly before the feed cut away, replaced by the faces of news anchors barely able to conceal their panic.

In one of the global control centers, a team of scientists gathered around a massive holographic projection of the Minotaur. The data collected from the surviving captain's body camera, armor sensors, and remaining drone footage were already being analyzed.

"This data is all we have," one scientist whispered, eyes fixed on the slowly rotating 3D model of the beast.

The creature looked almost mythological — the wide chest, muscular frame, massive sword. Its crimson eyes glowed even in the digital rendering.

A senior officer approached. "We need to find its weaknesses."

The scientists said nothing. None of them had found anything yet.

Meanwhile, in his small house, Lin Feng sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the television. The words from Ryker echoed relentlessly in his head.

"The Tower isn't just a structure. It's a trap."

He couldn't stop thinking about what the captain had described: the corridor, the perfectly cut stone walls, the narrow passageway that barely allowed three soldiers to walk side-by-side.

It was exactly like the place where he had fallen. The corridor where he had first awakened inside the Estra Roots. The same oppressive silence. The same perfectly aligned bricks that looked too precise to be natural.

His mind spiraled.

"Was that where I was?" he whispered to himself.

The similarity was unsettling. But why had his experience been different? Why had the Tree appeared to him while others faced pure violence? What was the logic behind these separate realities within the same Tower?

Lin Feng rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of questions he couldn't answer. The screen in front of him shifted back to the live broadcast as government officials prepared to make another announcement.

The camera zoomed in on a tall, stern-looking man in a black suit, standing behind a podium. His voice was steady, but his eyes revealed the same exhaustion everyone felt.

"Following Captain Zhao's debriefing," he began, "our scientists and military strategists have been working around the clock. We have collected significant data from his suit, his armor, and the recovered drone footage."

He gestured toward a large holographic screen behind him, showing the Minotaur's digital model rotating slowly.

"We now have a clearer visual map of the creature's physical structure, movement patterns, and response times."

He paused briefly.

"However, let me be clear — we have not identified any confirmed weaknesses."

The weight of those words pressed against every soul watching.

"But we have developed a new strategy."

The screen shifted to diagrams of specialized weapons, improved armor plating, and updated squad formations.

"Over the next twelve hours, our new task force will be deployed into the Tower. This team is equipped with enhanced weapons, high-impact explosives, electromagnetic disruptors, and adaptive body armor. Every advancement we've made over the past days will now be field-tested."

Lin Feng stared at the screen, heart pounding.

They were preparing to send another team.

The countdown on the corner of the screen displayed the remaining time:

47 HOURS 32 MINUTES.

Every hour that passed tightened the world's collective anxiety.

As promised, within the next few hours, a new team was assembled — smaller but more specialized. Dozens of the world's finest soldiers, engineers, and tacticians gathered at the Tower's base under heavy military escort.

The footage showed soldiers marching toward the Tower, their faces hidden behind new high-tech helmets, exosuits, and advanced weaponry glistening under the harsh spotlights.

Their entrance was eerily similar to the previous missions. The Tower stood, still as ever, its surface shimmering like a liquid mirror. The same rippling effect greeted them as they stepped through.

The world waited again.

Hours passed.

Updates were minimal.

The military's official channels repeated the same message over and over: "Mission ongoing. No updates available at this time."

The forums exploded once more.

"How long will they last this time?"

"If they fail again, what happens? We're running out of time."

"Was the creature waiting for them again?"

Lin Feng refreshed the page constantly, watching as fear spread like wildfire.

By nightfall, more than ten hours had passed. No contact. No return.

The government released another brief statement:

"We regret to inform the public that communication with the newly deployed team has been lost. The situation remains critical. We are evaluating next steps."

The panic surged again.

The countdown ticked mercilessly:

23 HOURS 49 MINUTES.

The world was running out of time.

The world's tension reached its breaking point.

The live broadcasts continued non-stop. Experts filled panels on every major news network, trying to analyze the little information that was publicly available. Military strategists, scientists, historians, even philosophers were called to the stage to fill airtime while everyone waited for real answers.

Some compared the Tower to ancient myths. Others speculated it was the work of extraterrestrial beings. Many whispered darker theories — that the Towers were some form of punishment or cosmic judgment upon humanity.

But amidst all the noise, one truth remained: no one knew what the Towers really were.

The failure of the new specialized team only amplified the global panic.

In living rooms, like Lin Feng's, millions of families sat together, watching the horror unfold, powerless to do anything but wait.

His mother sat at the dining table, clutching a cup of tea that had long gone cold. His sister scrolled silently through news feeds on her tablet, her face pale and tense. His father barely spoke, his eyes fixed on the television, hands clasped tightly as if silently praying.

The countdown was now displayed in every broadcast corner:

22 HOURS 15 MINUTES.

Lin Feng's mind was spinning.

The government had promised that this new task force would succeed. They had boasted about the technological advancements, the new weapons, the extensive data analysis. Yet, it had all failed—again.

"What's inside that Tower?" he thought.

The images of the narrow corridor haunted him, especially now that Captain Zhao had described it. The corridor he had seen when he first entered the Estra Roots had been eerily similar.

"Is it the same place? The same monster? Or are there more creatures like that inside?"

He clenched his fists.

"Why was my experience different?"

Why had the Tree appeared to him? Why hadn't he encountered the same monstrosity? Was there some kind of test or rule he had unknowingly passed? Or was his encounter just the beginning of something far more sinister?

These questions burned in his mind, but no answers came.

Meanwhile, back at the Tower's base, the military and government leaders were reaching their limits.

Inside the command tent, high-ranking generals, scientists, and international representatives debated furiously.

"We've lost too many already," one general shouted.

"We have no alternative!" a scientist replied. "We still don't fully understand the Tower's mechanisms!"

"The countdown is running out," another commander added coldly. "If we do nothing, we risk the entire planet."

Their arguments echoed against the metal walls. No one could agree on a solution.

The data collected so far had only raised more questions. The creature's resilience was beyond any biological structure known to man. Bullets, explosives, tasers, and electromagnetic disruptors had all failed. Even their most advanced technology hadn't even scratched its surface.

"It's not just physical," a biologist added softly. "We're dealing with something that exists beyond our understanding of matter."

And outside, the world waited.

The Tower stood unchanging.

The floating screens around its surface still shimmered in silent rotation, as if observing humanity's futile efforts. Occasionally, they would flash with brief symbols and sequences that no one had yet been able to decipher.

The same message remained burned into everyone's mind:

"You must conquer the Tower.

You have three days.

Failure will bring consequences."

As the sun set, casting an eerie orange glow over the Tower's black silhouette, Lin Feng stared out the window.

Even from his house, far from the epicenter, he could see the strange shimmering panels circling endlessly around the Tower. They looked so silent, so peaceful — and yet behind that calm exterior was an unimaginable force of death.

His phone vibrated. More forum updates.

"Several nations considering joint assault."

"Rumors of nuclear options being discussed."

"Some leaders calling for surrender to the Tower's demands."

Surrender? What did surrender even mean in this context?

No one had any idea.

By midnight, another statement came from the global leadership council. This time, their tone had shifted entirely.

On every channel, the global spokesperson appeared again. His face was pale, his voice slower, heavier.

"We have exhausted nearly every strategy available to us."

He looked directly into the camera, as if addressing every citizen personally.

"Our attempts to neutralize the creature inside the Tower have all failed. Our weapons are ineffective. Our tactics, insufficient."

The camera panned to display the latest footage from inside the Tower — blurry drone images captured before communication was lost. The Minotaur stood motionless once again, back in its dormant state, its sword resting in front of it. As if nothing had happened.

It had slaughtered dozens and dozens, yet it waited again, like a guardian expecting the next challenger.

The spokesperson continued:

"We have attempted different entry formations. We have sent specialized squads equipped with experimental technology. We have deployed automated drone units. All have failed."

A pause. The weight of hopelessness filled every word.

"The Tower remains undefeated. The threat remains."

He inhaled sharply, as if steadying himself for what he was about to say.

"We have less than twenty-four hours remaining."

Lin Feng's heart pounded harder.

The man's voice softened, but his words cut through every home like a blade.

"I will not lie to you. We have no remaining options. We have discussed every possibility—military, scientific, diplomatic—but the Tower has offered no response beyond its original message."

The screen behind him displayed the countdown, now cruelly ticking down:

18 HOURS 56 MINUTES.

The man's hands trembled briefly on the podium, but he forced himself to stay composed.

"And so," he whispered, voice barely audible at first, "I leave our fate… in the hands of God."

His final words echoed around the world.