Chapter 3: The Crimson Pulse

Killian's every step toward the tower felt heavier than the last, the weight of his wounds and the clinking shackles around his ankles dragging him down. The Shattered Plains stretched on, a fractured wasteland of crystalline spires and cracked stone, the air thick with the hum of the tower's crimson veins. Amara walked ahead, her spear held at the ready, her braided hair swaying with each determined stride. Her presence was a double-edged sword—Killian was grateful for the ally, but he didn't trust her, not fully. In a world where survival meant everything, trust was a luxury he couldn't afford.

The tower loomed closer now, its base a jagged monolith of black stone, the crimson veins pulsing like a heartbeat, casting an eerie glow across the plains. The air shimmered around it, a heat haze that made Killian's skin prickle with unease. He glanced at Amara, her face set in a hard line, her eyes scanning the horizon for threats. "You feel that?" she asked, her voice low, her Nigerian accent thick. "The air… it's wrong."

Killian nodded, his grip tightening on the pickaxe. "It's the tower," he said, his voice rough from exhaustion. "It's… alive, somehow." He didn't know how he knew, but the feeling was undeniable—a presence, ancient and malevolent, watching them from within the structure.

Amara didn't respond, but her jaw tightened. They pressed on, weaving through the crystalline spires, their boots crunching against the ground. The hum grew louder, a rhythmic thrum that seemed to sync with Killian's heartbeat, making his head throb. He shook it off, focusing on the path ahead. The tower was close, but the plains weren't done with them yet.

A low growl rumbled from the shadows, and Killian froze, his instincts screaming. Amara raised her spear, her body tensing. "There," she whispered, nodding toward a cluster of dark crystals to their right. The growl came again, deeper this time, and then the creature emerged—a hulking beast, its body a mass of jagged stone and crystal, its four legs ending in claws that gouged the earth. Its head was a nightmare of sharp angles, with a single glowing crimson eye that locked onto them. Spikes protruded from its back, each one dripping with a dark, viscous fluid that hissed as it hit the ground.

"Stonewraith," Amara said, her voice steady but laced with tension. "Rank C. I've seen one before, in a dungeon breach on Earth. They're tough. And that fluid—it's acid."

Killian's heart sank. A Rank C monster—stronger than the Crystal Reaver he'd barely survived. He glanced at Amara, her spear glowing faintly with a red aura, and saw the determination in her eyes. She wasn't running, and neither could he. Persistence. He'd faced worse odds in the mines, hadn't he? But the memory of the Shardskitters and the Crystal Reaver told him otherwise.

The Stonewraith charged, its claws tearing through the ground, acid dripping from its spikes. Amara moved first, her spear flashing as she darted to the side, aiming for its flank. The beast roared, its crimson eye flaring, and swung a claw at her. She dodged, the claw missing by inches, but a drop of acid splashed onto her arm, sizzling against her skin. She hissed in pain but didn't falter, driving her spear into the creature's side. The tip sank in, cracking the stone, but the Stonewraith barely slowed, its other claw slashing at her.

Killian didn't hesitate. He charged in, his pickaxe raised, aiming for the creature's legs. The metal struck true, chipping away at the stone, but the impact sent a jolt through his arms, nearly knocking the weapon from his hands. The Stonewraith turned on him, its crimson eye glowing with fury, and roared, the sound shaking the air. Acid dripped from its spikes, pooling on the ground, and Killian leaped back, narrowly avoiding a splash that melted the stone where he'd been standing.

Amara circled around, her spear a blur as she struck again and again, each hit drawing cracks in the creature's stone hide. "Keep it distracted!" she shouted, her voice strained. Killian nodded, his heart pounding, and swung his pickaxe, aiming for the same leg he'd hit before. The stone cracked further, the creature stumbling, but it lashed out with a claw, catching Killian across the chest. The blow sent him flying, his back slamming into a crystal spire, the impact knocking the breath from his lungs.

Pain exploded through his body, his vision swimming, but he didn't stop. Persistence. He pushed himself to his feet, blood dripping from the gash on his chest, and charged back in. Amara had the creature's attention now, her spear sinking into its side, but the Stonewraith was relentless, its claws slashing at her, acid spraying with every movement. Killian aimed for the cracked leg again, his pickaxe striking with all the strength he had left. The stone shattered, the creature's leg buckling, and it roared, its body tilting to one side.

"Now!" Amara shouted, leaping forward. Her spear glowed brighter, the red aura flaring, and she drove it into the Stonewraith's crimson eye. The beast screamed, a sound that echoed across the plains, and thrashed, its claws flailing. Killian ducked under a wild swing and swung his pickaxe into the creature's other front leg, cracking the stone. The Stonewraith collapsed, its body shuddering, and Amara yanked her spear free, driving it into the creature's head one final time. The crimson eye dimmed, the beast's movements stilled, and it fell, its body breaking apart into chunks of stone and crystal.

Killian stumbled back, his chest heaving, blood dripping from his wounds. Amara was panting too, her arm blistered from the acid, her spear coated in the creature's dark fluid. The System chimed:

Enemy Defeated: Stonewraith (Rank C).

Reward: 50 Essence Points (Shared).

Skill Progress: Persistence (Rank F) – 8% Increase to Endurance Threshold.

"Rank C," Amara muttered, wiping the sweat from her brow. "We're lucky it was alone. They usually hunt in pairs."

Killian didn't respond. He was too busy trying to stay upright, his body screaming in protest. The gash on his chest burned, and his calf, still injured from the Crystal Reaver fight, throbbed with every step. But he was alive, and that was more than he'd expected.

Amara glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "You're tougher than you look," she said, her tone grudging. "But you're a mess. We need to rest, patch up. The tower's close, but we won't make it if we're half-dead."

Killian nodded, too exhausted to argue. They found a small alcove between two crystalline spires, the ground relatively free of shards, and sat down. Amara tore a strip of fabric from her sleeve, wrapping it around her blistered arm, her movements precise despite the pain. Killian used a piece of his torn shirt to bandage his chest, the fabric soaking through with blood almost immediately. He leaned back against the spire, his eyes on the tower, its crimson veins pulsing faster now, the hum louder.

"What do you think it is?" he asked, his voice low. "The tower. It's… not just a building."

Amara followed his gaze, her expression darkening. "I don't know," she admitted. "But it's alive, like you said. I've seen things like this before—dungeons on Earth, the ones that didn't close. They had a… presence. Like they were watching. This tower, though… it's different. Bigger. Older." She paused, then added, "My brother, Ade, he was a scholar before the breaches. He'd heard stories—legends of a tower that spanned worlds, a prison for something ancient. I thought they were just stories. Now… I'm not so sure."

Killian didn't respond, but her words sent a chill down his spine. A prison for something ancient. He thought of the crimson veins, the hum, the monsters. Whatever this tower was, it wasn't just a challenge—it was a threat, one that went beyond survival.

They rested for a few minutes, the silence heavy between them. Killian's mind drifted to Hiroshi, hidden somewhere in the plains. He hoped the man was still alive, that they'd find each other again. But hope was a dangerous thing in a place like this, and Killian pushed the thought aside.

A faint screech broke the silence, and Killian tensed, his hand reaching for the pickaxe. Amara was on her feet in an instant, her spear raised. The screech came again, closer this time, and then they saw it—a flock of creatures, bat-like with crystalline wings, their eyes glowing yellow. They swooped down from the stalactites above, their screeches echoing across the plains.

"Crystal Bats," Amara said, her voice grim. "Rank E, but they swarm. We can't fight them all—not like this."

Killian nodded, his heart racing. "Run for the tower," he said, his voice hoarse. "It's our only shot."

They bolted, the bats diving after them, their wings slicing through the air. Killian's shackles slowed him down, the metal biting into his ankles, but he pushed through the pain, his skill keeping him going. Amara was faster, her spear flashing as she struck at the bats that got too close, ichor spraying with each hit. A bat dove at Killian, its wings aimed for his throat, but he swung his pickaxe, knocking it aside. Another grazed his back, its wing cutting a shallow line across his skin, and he grunted, stumbling but not stopping.

The tower was close now, its base only a hundred yards away. The crimson veins pulsed faster, the hum a deafening roar in Killian's ears. The bats were relentless, their screeches filling the air, but Killian and Amara kept running, their breaths ragged, their bodies pushed to the limit. They reached the tower's base, a wide archway leading into darkness, and dove inside, the bats pulling back at the last moment, their screeches fading as they retreated.

Killian collapsed against the wall, his chest heaving, blood dripping from his wounds. Amara leaned on her spear, her face slick with sweat, her arm trembling. The System chimed:

Objective Updated: Entered Tower Core (Floor 1).

New Objective: Defeat the Floor Guardian to Ascend.

Killian's heart sank. A Floor Guardian. Whatever that was, it couldn't be good. He looked at Amara, her expression grim, and knew she was thinking the same thing. They'd made it to the core, but the real fight was just beginning.