Ascension Beyond

The silence in the chamber was heavy, almost sacred.

Lin Feng stood before the Tree once more, his footsteps having echoed across the stone floor moments before. Now, only the faint hum of the ancient energy within the roots filled the space. He looked up at the immense being that had first welcomed him into the unknown—a presence both ancient and alien, calm yet incomprehensibly vast.

He inhaled slowly, then spoke.

"What do I have to do?" His voice felt small in the immensity of the space. "What do I have to do to complete the three tests?"

The Tree didn't respond immediately. A soft wind swirled inside the chamber, though there were no windows, no source. Its branches shifted gently, leaves whispering in a tongue too old to translate.

"You already know," the Tree said finally.

Its voice was neither loud nor quiet, but it carried weight. It bypassed Lin Feng's ears and settled straight into his mind, as though the words were always meant to be there.

Lin Feng furrowed his brows. "If I knew, I wouldn't ask. I need a clear answer. Lives are at stake. The whole world is... different now. Scared."

"You do know," the Tree said again, its tone unchanging. "Perhaps not with your mind, but your soul remembers."

Lin Feng's hands clenched at his sides. "Fine," he muttered, frustrated. "Then tell me this. What happens if humanity fails? What happens if we don't complete the tests?"

This time, the Tree paused longer.

A deep, low rustle traveled through its roots, as if the ground itself were thinking.

"There are consequences," it said.

"Obviously," Lin Feng replied. "But what kind? Catastrophic? Is it death? Extinction? War? Enslavement? You're not giving me anything."

"The future is not fixed. There are threads, millions of them, stretching across timelines. Some lead to ruin. Others lead to rebirth. The Tower is not here to destroy. It is here to reveal."

"Reveal what?" Lin Feng asked.

But the Tree said nothing more.

Lin Feng felt like shouting. His chest tightened with the weight of everything that had happened. The Tower. The soldiers. The countdown. The fear in his sister's eyes. His parents pretending they weren't scared. The soldier on TV with blood on his uniform. The Minotaur. Everything was moving so fast and yet answers came slower than ever.

He closed his eyes.

Breathe.

Inhale. Exhale.

"I'm just one person," he said softly. "But if I could help somehow… if there's something I can do to protect everyone, I want to do it."

Silence.

Then—

"So this is your answer?"

The Tree's words came again. But this time, they struck deeper, cutting through his thoughts like a blade through mist.

"My answer?" Lin Feng repeated. "What are you talking about?"

"I asked you a question," the Tree replied. "The first time we met. And now I see your answer."

Lin Feng's mind spun. He tried to recall every word from their first encounter. There had been so much mystery, so many riddles. But he couldn't remember being asked anything directly. Or maybe he didn't understand it back then. Maybe he hadn't even noticed it was a question at all.

"I don't remember," Lin Feng said honestly. "But maybe that doesn't matter right now."

He took a step forward.

"I don't know what I'm getting into," he said. "But time is running out. I'll deal with your question later. Right now, I need to act."

"You wish to help humanity?" the Tree asked.

"Yes."

"Even if it destroys you?"

"...Yes."

A subtle shift stirred the chamber. The pulsing light within the Tree's trunk brightened ever so slightly, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch toward Lin Feng.

"You must understand," the Tree said slowly. "What you ask is not without consequence. Once you begin, there is no return."

Lin Feng's heartbeat quickened. He swallowed.

"I'm not sure I have a choice," he replied. "The countdown is almost over. If we do nothing... everyone dies. Or worse."

The branches above shimmered faintly, the crystalline leaves catching the unseen light.

"There is always choice," the Tree answered. "And choice reveals the soul."

Lin Feng hesitated, then forced the words out. "Then help me."

Another pause. The air grew heavier.

"I can help you," the Tree said. "But there will be consequences. Will you bear them?"

Lin Feng's throat tightened. He thought of his family again. His sister's drawings scattered across the living room. His father's quiet stoicism. His mother's worried glances when she thought he wasn't looking.

His hands trembled.

"I will," he whispered. "If it can help them, I will."

The Tree's voice was steady.

"The tests cannot be avoided. They cannot be escaped. You must face them in full. If you succeed, the Tower will open. Humanity will be given another path."

"And if I fail?"

The Tree did not answer.

Lin Feng clenched his jaw.

"Fine," he said, taking another step forward. "Then I accept."

He drew in a sharp breath.

"I accept the test."

A long silence followed.

Then the chamber responded.

A low hum resonated from deep within the Tree, sending vibrations through the floor and walls. The glow from the roots intensified, the branches above swaying in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

Before Lin Feng could say another word, the Tree moved.

A thin root—no, a spear of light and energy—shot forward with lightning speed.

He barely saw it.

Pain erupted in his chest. Blinding, burning, all-consuming.

He gasped—no air. No words. Only agony.

He looked down. A shimmering tendril of the Tree had pierced straight through his heart.

He could feel the life draining from him with every pulse.

His legs buckled. He collapsed onto the cold stone floor. Blood spread rapidly beneath him, a crimson pool reflecting the Tree's light.

And then, through the haze of pain, the Tree's voice came once more:

"If you can remain alive for one hour... the Earth will be saved."

Lin Feng's mind spun.

One hour?

He didn't understand.

Why this? Why now?

But thought faded as darkness crept into the edges of his vision.

His breath came in shallow gasps.

The test had begun.

His heartbeat slowed. He could feel it—each throb weaker than the last. The warmth of his blood spread across the stone floor beneath him. Every breath was a struggle. The air in the chamber seemed thicker now, heavier, as if the very atmosphere pressed down on him.

His vision blurred. The glowing form of the Tree wavered, twisting in his eyes like smoke.

Stay alive.

The words echoed in his mind, louder than his pulse.

One hour.

He had to endure for one hour.

Lin Feng's thoughts fought to remain coherent. Panic clawed at the edges of his mind, but he forced it back.

Focus.

Think.

Breathe.

The pain was overwhelming. It wasn't just physical—it was deeper, sharper, as if it reached into the core of who he was. His heart had been pierced. Logic told him he should already be dead. And yet... he wasn't.

Not yet.

The Tree had done something—something that defied explanation. The root that impaled him still shimmered faintly, as though holding him on the edge between life and death.

Was this part of the test?

To suffer?

To endure?

One hour...

He could barely think.

His arms felt numb. His fingers twitched feebly against the cold floor. His legs wouldn't move. Every breath burned.

But his mind refused to surrender.

He forced his gaze upward.

The Tree loomed above, its branches still swaying in that slow, hypnotic rhythm. The light pulsed faintly, steady and calm—as though watching, waiting.

Lin Feng gritted his teeth. His jaw trembled, but he clenched it tight.

I'm not done yet, he thought.

He didn't know how much time had passed—seconds, minutes? It all blurred together beneath the pain.

He had no clock.

No way to measure the passing moments.

Only one goal:

Stay alive.

His heart spasmed again, weak and erratic.

Darkness closed in at the edges of his sight.

Not yet. Not yet...

He thought of his sister's laughter, of quiet mornings with his parents. Of the life outside this impossible place.

He thought of the faces of those watching the countdown at home, not knowing if salvation was still possible.

If he failed... they would all pay the price.

That thought burned brighter than the pain.

His lips moved, though no sound escaped.

I will survive.

The Tree said nothing now.

The chamber remained still.

It was all up to him.