Tower of god:Skybender

The labyrinth loomed ahead of us, a sprawling, oppressive structure carved from jagged black stone. Its walls were impossibly high, twisting and turning into a maze that seemed to writhe like a living thing. Veins of glowing gold ran through the cracks, pulsating faintly, as though the labyrinth itself had a heartbeat. The air was thick, almost suffocating, filled with the faint metallic tang of shinsu and something more… organic. I could taste it at the back of my throat—like copper mixed with damp earth. Every breath felt heavy, and the faint echoes of distant footsteps added an eerie rhythm to the silence.

I turned to Ami, who had been uncharacteristically quiet since we arrived. Her golden eyes seemed dimmer than usual, and her tails barely moved. She was always the one with a quip or a teasing jab, but now, her gaze remained fixed on the massive gate that stood at the center of the labyrinth's inner sanctum. It was ancient, towering, and covered in intricate alchemical symbols and glyphs. The gate seemed alive, its surface rippling faintly as though it were breathing.

The most unsettling part, though, was the test administrator.

It was neither human nor beast but something grotesquely in between. Its hulking frame was covered in matted fur, patches of bare skin showing where fur had fallen away to reveal mottled, scarred flesh. Its face was a grotesque fusion of a man and a dog, with sharp, too-human eyes that darted around hungrily. Its maw dripped with saliva, long, jagged teeth bared in a grin that sent shivers down my spine. It crouched in front of the gate like a twisted guardian, its claws scraping idly against the stone floor. When it spoke, its voice was guttural, like gravel grinding against bone.

"Welcome to the 18th-floor test," it growled, its voice echoing off the labyrinth walls. "I am the Gatekeeper. Your task is simple: solve the riddles and open the gate. Fail, and you'll face the consequences."

Its grin widened as it gestured toward the labyrinth. "The gate will give you clues, but beware. Every wrong answer will awaken the guardians of the labyrinth. They are not kind."

The air grew colder, and I felt a flicker of unease. Guardians? The labyrinth already felt alive, its oppressive energy pressing down on us. Adding sentient creatures into the mix only made things worse.

"You have until the labyrinth devours you or until the riddles are solved," the Gatekeeper added, chuckling darkly. "Good luck, little regulars."

I exchanged a glance with Ami, but she avoided my gaze. Her shoulders were tense, and for a moment, I thought I saw something flicker across her expression—something that looked suspiciously like sadness. But she said nothing, her lips pressed into a thin line as we stepped forward.

The labyrinth swallowed us whole.

The first thing that struck me was the sound. The air buzzed faintly, like static, and each step we took echoed endlessly, the sound bouncing off the walls in ways that made it impossible to tell where it was coming from. The golden veins along the walls emitted a soft hum, like a distant heartbeat, and their light cast flickering shadows that danced unnervingly across the stone. The smell was pungent—a mix of damp moss, rust, and something acrid, like burnt wood. My wings brushed against the walls as we turned a corner, the texture rough and uneven, like jagged glass.

We came to the first riddle chamber, a circular room with no ceiling, open to the starless void above. In the center of the room stood a pedestal made of the same black stone, its surface covered in swirling alchemical symbols. As we approached, the symbols began to shift, forming lines of glowing text:

"I am always hungry,

I must always be fed.

The finger I touch,

Will soon turn red.

What am I?"

Before I could speak, the Gatekeeper's guttural laugh echoed through the labyrinth. "Careful, little ones," it taunted. "A wrong answer, and the guardians will wake. They've been so hungry…"

"Fire," I said aloud, the answer coming to me almost immediately. It was simple enough. The pedestal pulsed, and for a moment, I thought we were in the clear. But then, the ground trembled, and a low growl rumbled through the walls.

I spun around just in time to see one of the guardians emerge from the shadows. It was a twisted mass of stone and sinew, its body pulsing with the same golden veins as the labyrinth. Its eyes burned like embers, and it moved with a horrifying fluidity, like liquid stone.

Ami was the first to react. Her tails snapped out, glowing faintly with shinsu as she launched herself at the creature. Her claws raked across its body, sparks flying as they connected with the stone. I followed suit, my chains lashing out to bind its limbs. But the creature was fast—too fast. It twisted out of my grasp, its molten claws swiping dangerously close to Ami.

I reached out telepathically to my feathers, sending them darting through the air like knives. They sliced through the guardian's molten flesh, slowing it down just enough for Ami to land a decisive blow. Her claws tore through its core, and it crumbled into a heap of smoldering rubble.

She didn't say anything after the fight, just turned back toward the pedestal, her face unreadable. I hesitated before placing a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

She shrugged me off, her tone sharper than usual. "I'm fine. Let's just get through this."

The next chamber was smaller, its walls covered in intricate carvings of alchemical circles and symbols. The riddle this time was carved into the floor, glowing faintly:

"The more you take,

The more you leave behind.

What am I?"

"Footsteps," Ami said quietly, her voice tinged with something I couldn't place. She didn't wait for the pedestal's confirmation, stepping back as if she couldn't bear to look at it.

The room trembled, but no guardian appeared this time. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. "Good call," I said, trying to lighten the mood. "That could've gone a lot worse."

Ami didn't respond. She stood staring at the carvings on the wall, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. I was about to press her when she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "The Gatekeeper… It reminds me of someone I used to know."

I blinked, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

She hesitated, her golden eyes flicking toward me before looking away again. "It's nothing. Just… someone from my past. Someone who wasn't… whole anymore."

I didn't push her, but her words stayed with me as we moved deeper into the labyrinth.

The next riddle was far more complex, requiring us to manipulate a series of alchemical symbols to form a specific pattern. Each wrong attempt caused the walls to close in slightly, the air growing colder and more oppressive. Ami's usual sharpness returned as we worked together, her claws deftly tracing symbols while I used my feathers to manipulate the pieces we couldn't reach.

We solved it just in time, the walls stopping mere inches from crushing us. The pedestal pulsed, and the gate in the distance glowed faintly, signaling that we were one step closer.

Ami finally broke the silence as we caught our breath. "The Gatekeeper… It's like a reminder of what happens when you lose yourself. When you let something take over until there's nothing left but a shell."

I glanced at her, surprised by the vulnerability in her voice. "You've seen that happen?"

She nodded, her gaze fixed on the ground. "To someone I cared about. They were… changed, twisted into something they weren't. I couldn't stop it."

I didn't know what to say. Ami had always been the confident, unshakable one. Seeing her like this was… unsettling.

"We'll get through this," I said finally. "And when we're done, maybe you can tell me more about it."

She gave me a faint smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Maybe."

The final riddle chamber was the largest yet, its ceiling disappearing into darkness. The pedestal in the center glowed ominously, the riddle already forming:

"I am not alive, but I grow.

I don't have lungs, but I need air.

I don't have a mouth, but water kills me.

What am I?"

"Fire again," Ami said, her tone flat. "They're getting lazy."

I nodded, stepping forward to confirm the answer. But before I could speak, the Gatekeeper's laugh echoed through the chamber. "Ah, but not every riddle is so simple, little ones."

The floor beneath us shifted, revealing dozens of smaller pedestals, each with its own glowing symbol. The riddle's answer wasn't enough this time—we had to deactivate the false pedestals and activate the true one before the guardians overwhelmed us.

The guardians appeared almost instantly, their glowing eyes piercing the darkness as they charged. Ami and I moved as one, our attacks perfectly synchronized. She darted between the pedestals, her tails lashing out to strike the guardians, while I sent my feathers slicing through their molten forms.

The air was thick with the stench of burning stone and the metallic tang of shinsu. The heat was almost unbearable, sweat pouring down my face as I focused on the symbols. Each wrong activation triggered a surge of energy from the walls, forcing us to dodge or risk being incinerated.

Finally, we found the right pedestal. The gate in the distance glowed brightly, its surface rippling as it began to open. The guardians froze mid-charge before crumbling into dust, their glowing eyes extinguished.

The Gatekeeper awaited us at the gate, its grin wider than ever. "You survived," it said, almost sounding disappointed. "Few make it this far. Fewer still leave."

Its eyes lingered on Ami for a moment, and I saw her flinch, her fists clenching. But she said nothing, her gaze fixed on the glowing gate.

"Proceed, little ones," the Gatekeeper growled, stepping aside. "The 19th floor awaits."

As we stepped through the gate, I glanced at Ami. Her expression was unreadable, but I could see the tension in her shoulders. Whatever the Gatekeeper reminded her of, it wasn't something she could easily leave behind.

I didn't push her. For now, we had survived.