The Choice

The Fifth Floor

When the light faded, Leo found himself standing before a massive gate.

It loomed, ancient and regal—twenty meters tall, forged of some dark stone veined with glowing lines of qi that pulsed slowly, like a heartbeat. There were no guards, no tests this time. Just silence.

And then, the gate creaked open.

Beyond it was not another battlefield or barren terrain, but… a city.

A sprawling, majestic city, its streets paved with clean-cut stone that shimmered faintly with embedded runes. The buildings rose in elegant curves and sharp towers, adorned with banners bearing dozens of unknown symbols. Cultivators walked the wide avenues—some in robes, others in armor, all exuding quiet strength and settled purpose.

The qi in the air here was different. Deeper. Calmer. Like a river that no longer rushed, but flowed with practiced certainty.

Leo took a step forward.

"Welcome, Initiate." A soft voice greeted him.

An attendant in pale silver robes stood by the gate, bowing with practiced grace. His presence was calm, serene—no different from the cultivated harmony of the city around him.

"Where… am I?" Leo asked, though he already suspected.

"You've reached the Fifth Floor," the attendant said with a warm smile. "The heart of the Tower. A place of rest, of purpose, and of choice."

Leo followed him as the man gestured for him to walk.

They passed through winding streets and plazas where cultivators meditated beneath ancient trees. They saw training fields with sparring duels too fast for the eye to follow, and lecture halls with hovering diagrams of qi flow and elemental convergence.

There were blacksmiths forging weapons that sang when drawn. Alchemists tending cauldrons glowing with starlight. Merchants, food stalls, even laughter.

It was… peaceful.

And so terribly tempting.

"This city is for those who have passed the fourth floor," the attendant explained as they walked. "Those who have endured. Who have bled, lost, and grown. It is a place for the capable."

He turned to face Leo directly now.

"And for those who wish to stay."

Leo tensed slightly. "Stay?"

The attendant nodded. "You may end your climb here. Many do. You will be granted a residence, resources, a role suited to your talents. You may study, teach, cultivate. Live. With safety, purpose—and permanence."

Leo's gaze drifted to the horizon. The city was vast, but he could see beyond its edges—distant gates, sealed shut. The path forward.

"What's the cost?" he asked.

The attendant's smile didn't waver. "You will seal your cultivation at five qi points. It will not weaken. It will not grow. You will remain here… forever. No return to your world. No further trials."

Leo's hand curled around his spear.

"And if I keep climbing?"

The man's voice grew quieter. "The sixth floor marks the true ascent. The Tower ceases to test your potential… and begins to test your will. Most who climb beyond this point do not return."

He took a step back and bowed deeply.

"The choice is yours. You may stay, or you may walk forward through that gate."

Leo stood there in the center of a serene plaza, surrounded by peace, legacy, and comfort.

And ahead, a road paved in shadow and blood.

His heart pounded—not from fear, but from knowing that this was real. That the choice he made here would echo through the rest of his life.

He walked the streets in silence, trailing behind the attendant who had shown him the city's polished perfection. Everywhere he turned, he saw serenity, stability. People sparring not for survival, but for refinement. Laughter over tea, debates over cultivation theory, guards with steady eyes and calm smiles. The pull of it all was strong—dangerously strong.

He sat beneath a flowering tree in one of the quieter gardens, the wind brushing petals into his lap. He tried to imagine it: a life here, permanent, sealed at five qi points. No more trials. No more blood. A future not stolen, but offered.

And yet... it didn't sit right.

He looked at his hands. Callused. Scabbed. Stronger than they had been, but not finished. Not even close.

He thought of Eli. Of his family. Of the people he'd fought beside. Of everyone waiting for him, even if they didn't know they were.

He'd already made this choice. Long ago, when he first picked up that spear. When he survived the first floor. When he didn't stop.

The rest was just noise.

He stood, walking back toward the central plaza with steady steps.

The attendant was waiting.

Leo stopped before him and nodded. "I'm continuing."

The man studied him, the soft lines of his face forming something unreadable—part pride, part sorrow. "Most take longer to decide," he said quietly. "But I suppose you already knew the answer."

Leo didn't respond.

"Very well." The attendant gave a respectful bow, then turned and began leading him through a different part of the city, toward a gate set into a high stone wall. "This is the district for climbers. Those who have chosen the path forward. You'll live, train, and prepare here. The next trial is one year from today."

Leo's steps slowed. "A full year?"

"You'll need it," the man said simply.

The gate opened.

And inside was a different kind of energy.

The air here still held tension—purpose, hunger, pressure. But also familiarity. Shared fire. These weren't residents. These were survivors. Climbers.

Leo scanned the courtyard ahead.

And his breath caught.

Mira leaned against a training post, arguing with someone over footwork. Aric stood nearby, his calm gaze scanning new arrivals—until it landed on Leo.

Their eyes met.

Mira turned and lit up, a grin splitting her face. "Took you long enough!"

Leo laughed, relief and joy welling in his chest. "Had to make a decision, you know."

"You made the right one," Aric said with a nod.

Leo stepped forward.

He wasn't alone.

Not yet.