Chapter 21: The Forgotten Rebellion

The wind howled across the battlefield, kicking up dust and ash, but Asher barely noticed. His focus remained on the hunter standing before him, the man who had spoken words that should have been impossible.

"You think you're the first anomaly?"

"You're not."

Asher's grip on his sword tightened, his shadow flickering in anticipation. He had suspected something was wrong with the Tower for a long time, ever since the moment he defied its judgment. But now, this was proof.

The gods had hidden something.

Something they didn't want him to know.

Asher tilted his head, studying the warrior in front of him. The man looked human—scarred, weathered, the kind of face shaped by years of battle. His armor was old, worn, but powerful, covered in runes Asher had never seen before. The blackened greatsword on his back pulsed with a strange energy, almost as if it was alive.

"Who are you?" Asher asked, his voice steady.

The hunter chuckled softly, shaking his head. "That's the right question." He turned his gaze toward the ruined battlefield, the countless corpses scattered across the floor. "But the better one is… who were we?"

Asher didn't respond, waiting.

The hunter exhaled. "A long time ago, we climbed the Tower just like you. We weren't chosen. We weren't special. But we saw what the gods were doing. And we tried to stop it."

He gestured around them.

"This was our punishment."

Asher narrowed his eyes. "You tried to destroy the Tower?"

The hunter shook his head. "Not destroy it. Free it."

The wind stilled.

A notification flickered in Asher's vision.

[Error: Unregistered Data Detected.]

[Attempting to Reformat…]

The Tower was trying to erase the memory of this place.

Asher's shadow pulsed. The system faltered.

The hunter laughed bitterly. "See? They don't even want you to hear this. They're afraid of the truth."

Asher stepped forward. "Tell me everything."

The hunter met his gaze. "You already know what this place is, don't you? The Fifth Floor was never a trial. It was never part of the game. This is where the gods erase the ones who don't obey."

A cold realization settled over Asher.

The gods had always spoken about judgment. The Tower was meant to be a test, a proving ground for those who sought divinity.

But that was a lie.

The Tower was a prison.

And the ones who defied it were buried here.

Asher's breath was steady. "How did you survive?"

The hunter's smile didn't reach his eyes. "I didn't."

Asher felt his shadow twitch. Something was wrong.

The hunter sighed, reaching up to touch his chestplate. "We lost, Asher. All of us." He glanced toward the countless corpses. "Some of us fought until we fell. Others ran. Others surrendered. It didn't matter. In the end, the gods wiped us from existence."

He turned back to Asher. "Except for me."

Asher's instincts flared. "You're not alive."

The hunter smirked. "I was the last one standing. The gods made an example of me. They bound me to this place, left me here to watch, to wait, to tell every new anomaly the same story. And do you know how many have made it this far?"

He stepped closer.

"Just you."

The battlefield was silent.

Asher exhaled slowly, his mind racing.

The Tower had erased every rebellion before him.

And yet, he had survived.

The gods had failed to stop him, failed to remove him, failed to erase his existence. That meant something had changed.

That meant he could win.

The hunter studied him for a long moment before shaking his head. "I don't know what you are, Asher Damien. But I know this much."

His greatsword trembled.

"If the gods couldn't erase you, they're going to do the next best thing."

A notification flared across Asher's vision.

[Divine Order Issued.]

[Executioner of the Forgotten Rebellion Has Been Activated.]

The hunter's eyes darkened.

"They're making me kill you."

The battlefield exploded.

The Executioner Awakens

Asher barely had time to react before the hunter moved.

The man's greatsword ignited, the blackened steel pulsing with an energy that felt wrong, ancient, and cursed beyond understanding. The ground beneath him cracked, and in an instant—he was already swinging.

Asher dodged.

The sword tore through the battlefield, a wave of force splitting the air as a shockwave rippled outward. The bodies of the fallen were blown away like dust, the earth beneath them splitting open.

Asher landed several meters back, his eyes narrowing.

The hunter was faster than a god.

And now, he wasn't fighting of his own will.

A voice, distant and mechanical, whispered through the air.

"You were meant to be erased."

The Tower was speaking through him.

Asher exhaled. "They turned you into a puppet."

The hunter's grip on his sword tightened. "I know," he growled. His body shuddered, golden runes burning into his skin, his muscles locking against his will. He was resisting it.

But the Tower's will was stronger.

The moment he raised his blade again, his eyes were no longer his own.

A god's will had taken over.

"Fight or die."

Asher smirked.

"I choose neither."

His shadow erupted.

The hunter lunged, his sword striking with enough force to collapse the sky itself.

Asher met him mid-air, their weapons colliding in a storm of darkness and divine energy.

The Fifth Floor shook.

And the gods watched in silence.

Because for the first time, they did not know if they would win.