Chapter 22 – Inheritance of Ash

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Ash rained from the sky like snow from a dead world.

Erevan stood on the precipice of a ruined level, the shattered remnants of the Core still smoldering behind him. Each step he took away from that place was a step deeper into the unknown—but not without direction. The system had changed. He had changed.

> [Path of the Forgotten Architect]

You are now on a path beyond the Tower's design.

Each choice from now on rewrites the world.

Warning: Unpredictable narrative branches may unfold.

You are no longer safe from causality backlash.

> Remembrance: +3

Memory Fragment Recovered: "The First Collapse"

The number glowed faintly at the edge of his vision. Each fragment, each truth, carved open another scar. But he welcomed the pain. It reminded him that he'd once stood for something far more dangerous than power.

He had tried to burn the system to the ground.

And they had erased him for it.

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The next level was not a room or corridor—it was a graveyard.

A city suspended in time, locked in an eternal moment of destruction. Craters littered the stone streets. Blackened bones lay curled around old weapons. Towers of obsidian had fallen sideways, frozen mid-collapse. Even the sky was cracked.

And in the center stood a throne made of corpses.

Erevan approached with deliberate steps. His expression unreadable, his mind weaving threads of memory and calculation.

There was someone sitting on the throne.

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The girl was young—maybe sixteen, maybe eternal. Her dress shimmered like starlight, stitched from illusions and lies. Her eyes were molten silver, watching him not with fear, but recognition.

"You look different," she said softly.

He tilted his head.

"You remember me?"

"Not your name. But your anger."

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "It's the same as it was when you lit the sky on fire."

Erevan studied her.

"You were there."

"I am there," she replied. "This level is my memory. And you're trespassing through my pain."

The throne groaned as she rose.

"I should hate you," she whispered. "But I can't. Because you were right."

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She reached out—and in her hand formed a shard of something ancient. A piece of obsidian, humming with the energy of collapsed timelines.

"This is yours," she said.

He didn't move.

"I've given away enough of myself already."

Her voice was hollow. "You didn't come here to take. You came here to remember."

Erevan reached for the shard—and in that moment, he saw.

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Flashes. Fire. Screams.

A world cracking open as the first rebellion began. Systems shattering. Heroes falling. The Tower collapsing in on itself. And at the center—him, standing defiant, wielding the same shard like a blade.

Not to conquer.

But to end.

He had failed.

He had died.

And someone had used his failure to build this cursed Tower anew.

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The vision ended. The girl was gone.

Only the throne remained—quiet, waiting. He left the shard embedded in his palm, letting it fuse with his skin. A part of his soul returned.

> Remembrance: +1

Memory Unlocked: "The First Blade."

You once wielded the power to undo creation. That memory is now returning.

> Skill Gained: Ashbrand (Lv. 1)

Conjure a blade forged from the remnants of forgotten worlds.

Deals bonus damage to enemies bound to the Tower.

Cooldown: 30 seconds.

Erevan clenched his fist. The blade formed in his hand—smoke and steel, grief and fury.

He had once raised it against the gods.

And he would do so again.

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He walked through the empty city, no longer as a climber—but as something else. Something older. Shadows followed him, not just from the ruins but from within.

Behind him, the level began to collapse. The Tower sensed his progress. And it was terrified.

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Far above, the Tower's architects met in a room of glass and data.

"He's recovering too much, too quickly," one hissed.

Another replied, "The Remembrance system was supposed to break him."

The third, oldest voice said quietly, "It's not breaking him. It's remaking him."

Silence fell.

And then a fourth voice—calm, amused, inhuman—echoed across the chamber.

"Let him climb."

They all turned.

"He was always meant to reach the top," the voice purred. "But this time, he'll do it our way."

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Next Chapter: "The Architect's Curse"