Memories: The Tower's entrance

The man stood before the tower's entrance, its vast doors looming over him like a monument to something long forgotten. Up close, the structure was even more unnatural—the blackened stone was not just burned but warped, as if reality itself had twisted in upon it. The pulsating glow that matched the dagger's faint shimmer seemed almost alive, like a heartbeat trapped within the walls.

The city's memory still surrounded him. The streets behind him were full, yet empty—phantoms of a past long gone, figures moving about their daily lives with blurred faces and voiceless murmurs. They did not acknowledge him.

The dagger pulsed in his palm, its warmth guiding him forward. He reached out, pressing a hand against the cold surface of the door. At his touch, the carvings flared to life, glowing with the same eerie light that had followed him throughout the city. The door rumbled, ancient mechanisms stirring awake. A deep, resonating chime echoed through the streets, and the ghostly figures halted in their movements, as if frozen in time.

The door cracked open, revealing a darkness so absolute it seemed to swallow the light. A gust of air rushed out, carrying the scent of damp stone and something older, something that made his stomach twist with unease. The city's memory trembled around him, its streets flickering like a dying flame.

*Prove your worth.*

The whisper slid into his mind unbidden, a voice both foreign and familiar. He turned, but there was no one beside him. Only the dagger's glow remained steady, its purpose clear. He had come this far. There was no turning back.

Steeling himself, the man stepped forward, into the darkness of the tower's entrance. As he crossed the threshold, the door groaned shut behind him, sealing him inside.

The city's memory faded, and silence reigned.

Ahead, the unknown awaited.