At first glance, Alex Kang didn’t look like someone who would gamble his life climbing a mysterious tower.

  He wasn’t tall. Not imposing. Not the kind of guy who commanded a room just by walking into it.

  But he had something else.

  Sharp brown eyes with a faint reddish glow when the light hit them just right. The kind of eyes that were always calculating, always observing. Back at the French college of Coeurderoy, he’d been part of the science section — the student who actually understood the formulas instead of just memorizing them. Teachers liked him. Classmates relied on him.

  And on the handball court?

  He had been fast.

  Explosive.

  The kind of right-wing player who could slip past defenders with a grin and score while cracking a joke mid-air. He wasn’t the tallest on the team, but his timing, reflexes, and spatial awareness made him dangerous. He loved the game — not just for winning, but for the rhythm of it. Movement. Strategy. Adaptation.

  That same rhythm now pulsed inside the Tower.

  Two Months.

  60 days since he and his classmates had been torn from Earth and thrown into this vertical nightmare of trials, monsters, and impossible systems.

  Most people panicked.

  Alex asked questions.

  Why were they here?

  What was the Tower?

  Who built it?

  And more importantly — was there a way back?

  He didn’t climb for glory.

  He climbed for answers.

  And because standing still meant dying.

  It had been his idea to push forward instead of waiting for rescue that would never come. He convinced Jacques with logic. Sonia with honesty. Louis with quiet determination. He didn’t force them — he gave them hope. A direction.

  That was his real strength.

  Not just fire.

  Though the fire was new.

  It had started subtly — a warmth in his palms, a flicker when his emotions spiked. Now, as they reached higher floors, the affinity was becoming undeniable. Flames responded to him faster than thought. Controlled. Precise. Almost playful.

  Like him.

  Jovial. Teasing. Always ready with a joke even in front of danger — sometimes especially in front of danger.

  But when his smile fades?

  The air around him heats.

  And something ancient stirs in the sparks gathering at his fingertips.

  Alex Kang doesn’t climb the Tower to become a hero.

  He climbs it to go home.

  If the Tower burns along the way…

  Well.

  That might just be unavoidable.

  Floor 5 — The Forest Trial

  The air smelled damp.

  Rotten leaves. Wet bark. Iron.

  “Three left flank — no, four!” Louis hissed from somewhere above, his voice barely carrying through the canopy.

  A goblin screeched.

  Jacques slammed his shield forward just in time.

  CLANG.

  The creature’s crude blade skidded off metal. Another goblin lunged from the side, jagged teeth snapping. Jacques pivoted, sword flashing in a tight arc, but there were too many.

  “Hold formation!” Alex shouted.

  He stood several meters back, boots digging into the moss-covered ground. His palms were already warm — no, hot. Sparks licked between his fingers like impatient tongues of flame.

  They weren’t ready for this density of enemies.

  Five had turned into ten.

  Ten into… more.

  “They’re flanking!” Sonia cried, kneeling behind a fallen log. Pale green light shimmered around her hands as she patched a gash on Jacques’ shoulder. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Healing wasn’t infinite.

  “Louis!” Alex called. “Tree line, disrupt right side! Don’t commit!”

  A shadow dropped from the branches.

  Louis moved like a knife — quick, precise. A goblin shrieked as a dagger found its throat. Another stumbled back clutching its leg.

  But still they came.

  Small. Fast. Relentless.

  Jacques grunted as three goblins crashed into his shield at once. He slid backward through the mud.

  “Alex!” he barked.

  Not panic.

  A warning.

  We can’t hold this.

  Alex’s mind raced.

  Wind direction — left to right.

  Tree density — moderate.

  Allies’ position — clustered center.

  Too clustered.

  “Sonia, five meters back!” Alex snapped. “Jacques, brace and crouch on my mark! Louis disengage NOW!”

  There was no time to explain.

  Trust.

  That’s what leadership meant.

  A goblin slipped past Jacques’ shield and lunged toward Sonia.

  Alex’s jaw tightened.

  Enough.

  He exhaled slowly.

  The forest seemed to dim.

  Heat pooled in his chest, then surged down his arms. The warmth he’d felt these past two weeks — the flicker he’d been learning to control — roared awake like something that had been waiting.

  Not sparks.

  Not flickers.

  Flame.

  Mana poured out of him, wild and hungry. His vision tinted gold.

  “Mark!” he shouted.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Jacques dropped low, shield covering Sonia as Louis rolled clear to the side.

  Alex brought both hands forward.

  And clenched.

  For half a heartbeat, the world went silent.

  Then—

  A spiraling torrent of fire exploded outward.

  Not a thin stream.

  Not a fireball.

  A blooming inferno.

  Flames burst in a wide arc, racing across the forest floor in a controlled wave, weaving between trees but swallowing everything in its path. The air roared. Heat bent the light. Goblin shrieks turned sharp, then cut short.

  The shockwave knocked loose leaves from the canopy.

  Orange light devoured the clearing.

  And then—

  Silence.

  Smoke curled upward in lazy spirals.

  Charred bodies lay scattered across blackened earth. The trees still stood — scorched, but intact. The fire had obeyed him.

  Slowly… carefully… it faded.

  Alex’s knees buckled.

  Louis caught him before he hit the ground. “You trying to cook the whole floor or what?”

  Jacques stared at the clearing, shield lowered.

  Sonia’s eyes were wide. “That wasn’t… a beginner spell.”

  Alex forced a grin, though his vision swam.

  “Guess I finally figured out the user manual.”

  But his hands were trembling.

  That hadn’t been just control.

  That had been power.

  And somewhere deep inside the Tower, something felt like it had just taken notice.

  The trees thinned.

  The oppressive shadow of the forest gave way to open sky and wind-swept grass. The plain stretched endlessly ahead, golden under the late afternoon light. A small hill rose gently above the terrain — clear sightlines in every direction.

  “Up there,” Alex said, voice calmer now. “If something comes, we’ll see it.”

  No one argued.

  They climbed in silence.

  At the top, Jacques dropped his shield first.

  Then his sword.

  Then himself.

  He sat heavily in the grass, breathing hard.

  “I wasn’t ready to die again,” he muttered.

  Sonia immediately knelt beside him.

  Her hands moved to his face first — checking, grounding — then she pulled him into a tight hug. He buried his face against her shoulder without resistance.

  “I know,” she whispered. “I know.”

  Alex looked away politely.

  Louis did not.

  “Romantic trauma bonding, huh?”

  Jacques lifted one hand without looking and flipped him off.

  But he didn’t let go of Sonia.

  After a moment, she leaned back just enough to press a soft kiss to his lips — quick, firm, reassuring.

  “You’re still here,” she said. “That’s what matters.”

  Jacques exhaled shakily. “Twelve hours was already hell.”

  The air seemed to cool.

  None of them liked talking about it.

  When you died in the Tower, you didn’t disappear.

  You were punished.

  Your senses were stripped away — sight, sound, touch. No body. No movement. Just awareness suspended in endless dark.

  Twelve hours the first time.

  If you died again within three months?

  Twenty-four.

  Then forty-eight.

  Double. Every time.

  You could sleep in that void.

  But you couldn’t escape it.

  Alex stared at his hands.

  “We can’t afford another death,” he said quietly. “Not on Floor Five.”

  Louis snorted and rolled onto his back, raising his left wrist.

  A faint blue holographic interface shimmered into existence above the device embedded in Louis’ wristband.

  PAIN LIMITER — 55%

  He stared at it for a second, jaw tight.

  Then he slid the bar up.

  PAIN LIMITER — 60%

  Sonia frowned. “You’re raising it?”

  “Yeah,” Louis replied. “That goblin stab almost maxed me out. I was centimeters from triggering death.”

  The pain limiter didn’t dull anything.

  It didn’t soften the sensation or make wounds hurt less.

  It was a threshold.

  At 100%, you felt everything — no limit, no safeguard.

  At whatever percentage you set, the system simply monitored accumulated trauma. Once your body registered pain equivalent to that threshold…

  It killed you.

  Instantly.

  A mercy switch.

  Or a trap, depending on how you saw it.

  “Fifty-five was too low,” Louis continued. “One bad hit and I’m out. I’m not dying because I set the bar too cautious.”

  “You were bleeding a lot,” Sonia said quietly.

  “Exactly. I want room to take a hit without the system deciding I’m done.”

  Alex activated his own interface.

  PAIN LIMITER — 55%

  He paused.

  Then nudged it upward.

  PAIN LIMITER — 60%

  He glanced sideways at Louis.

  “Copying me now?” Louis smirked.

  “Optimizing,” Alex replied evenly.

  Jacques finally pulled away from Sonia, though his arm remained around her waist.

  “At least the loot was worth it.”

  That shifted the mood.

  Louis immediately grinned. “Now we’re talking.”

  They dumped the spoils between them.

  Two goblin-core shards — low grade, but usable.

  A reinforced leather bracer with minor durability enhancement.

  And the dagger Louis had claimed from the mini-boss.

  He twirled it proudly. “+3 Agility when equipped. And the bleed effect stacks.”

  Jacques tapped his shield. “The durability buff helped. I’d have lost this thing without it.”

  Sonia nodded. “The mana ring too. I would’ve burned out.”

  All eyes shifted to Alex.

  He stared at the charred mana crystal they’d found at the dungeon’s end.

  “Fire amplification,” he murmured. “It resonated when I cast.”

  Jacques gave him a long look.

  “That wasn’t just the crystal.”

  Silence settled.

  Wind rolled through the tall grass.

  And then—

  Louis froze.

  “…You guys seeing that?”

  A faint humming cut through the air.

  Something small crested the hill from behind them.

  A metallic sphere, no larger than a melon.

  It floated effortlessly, silent except for a low vibration. Its surface was smooth, reflective — and at its center was a dark circular lens.

  Like a camera.

  It hovered ten meters away.

  Watching.

  No one moved.

  The lens adjusted.

  Focused.

  A faint red glint flickered within it.

  “Is that a monster?” Sonia whispered.

  “It’s not in the system radar,” Jacques said, tightening his grip on his sword.

  Alex slowly stood.

  “Don’t attack.”

  The sphere tilted slightly.

  As if studying him.

  For one long second, the world felt… observed.

  Measured.

  Then—

  With a sharp burst of speed, the sphere shot backward across the plain and vanished over a distant ridge.

  Silence returned.

  Louis blinked. “Well. That’s new.”

  Jacques looked toward the horizon, jaw tight.

  “That wasn’t random.”

  Alex felt the lingering heat in his chest again.

  The spell.

  The explosion.

  The scale of it.

  “…We were being evaluated,” he said quietly.

  The wind carried no answer.

  But somewhere beyond their sight, something had taken interest in Alex Kang.

  Jacques Dufour — 22 years old

  Tall and broad-shouldered, Jacques has short curly ginger hair, clear blue eyes, and a naturally athletic build from years of handball. Calm and laid-back, he gives off a reassuring presence — the kind of guy who doesn’t panic easily and would rather take a nap than attend a lecture.

  He redoubled once in college, never being particularly serious about his studies, but what he lacks in academic discipline he makes up for in physical reliability and steady nerves. In the Tower, he naturally fits the role of frontline tank — grounded, protective, and stubbornly hard to knock down.

  Sonia Mercier — 21 years old

  Not very tall, with dirty blonde hair and warm brown eyes, Sonia has soft features and a naturally curvy silhouette that makes her presence noticeable without her trying. She used to be one of the more studious students in their group — organized, diligent, and serious about her future.

  That changed after getting closer to Jacques. Late mornings, skipped lectures, distractions she never would’ve allowed before.

  In the Tower, however, her focus has returned. As the team’s healer, she carries quiet strength — compassionate, emotionally perceptive, and far tougher than she first appears.

  Louis Laurent — 21 years old

  Of average height with short brown hair and thoughtful brown eyes behind rectangular glasses, Louis carries himself with quiet composure. Serious and laid-back, he isn’t very talkative at first — but those close to him know his dry wit and sharp analytical mind.

  A former video game enthusiast, he adapts naturally to the Tower’s mechanics. He enjoys optimizing builds, studying patterns, and steadily improving. Progress isn’t just survival for him — it’s motivation.

  He’s one of the stable pillars of the group: reliable, calm under pressure, and rarely impulsive.

  His girlfriend didn’t climb with them, choosing to remain safe on the first floor. He respects her decision — but it adds weight to every step he takes upward. Getting stronger isn’t just about himself. It’s about making sure he can one day return to her safely.