Black Tower in the Cracked Sky

FIGHT WITH THE FIRST SHADOW

The figure spoke in a voice that seemed to come from the entire cave.

"Raka… child of time. I am a part of you. I was the first. I was the one you left behind when you were born."

"Enough with the riddles!" Raka shouted. He drew his sword of time and attacked.

But each slash only cut through the mist. The figure did not fight with physical strength—it absorbed memories and created illusions.

Suddenly, Raka saw the figure of his mother, covered in blood, staring at him from the corner of the room.

"Raka… you left me…" Raka was silent. His hands were shaking.

Lyra grabbed his shoulders. "Don't believe it! It's not reality!"

The Shadow of Origin laughed. "I am the one you cannot fight: YOURSELF."

Moksa finally jumped and stabbed the Nira Sword, breaking the illusion for a moment. "You are just a shadow! And shadows will never stand without light!"

Vannir began to cast a binding spell, creating a seal of time and dimension.

"Raka! It's time! Use all the keys!"

THE RESURRECTION OF THE TRUE GUARDIAN

Raka took a deep breath, then raised his hand. The four previous key fragments coalesced around his bracelet. He stuck the bracelet into the ground.

The ground shook. The stone pillars lit up. Light poured from every side of the cave, forming an ancient symbol in the air—a five-branched tree, the symbol of the Guardians of the Beginning.

The body of the Shadow of Origin began to disintegrate. But before it shattered, it whispered: "You have opened the way… not for salvation… but for one I dare not even name…"

With a piercing scream, the figure exploded into mist. The Fifth Key fell into Raka's hands.

AFTER THE BATTLE

They returned to the surface, carrying the Fifth Key.

But the world outside had changed. The sky was no longer blue, but blackish silver. The land had changed—dimensional rifts had split the ground.

On the horizon stood a black tower, never seen before. At its peak, a pair of red eyes stared at them from afar.

"Those eyes…" Lyra whispered.

"They don't belong to the Shadow of Origin."

"No," Moksa answered in a deep voice. "They… belong to HIM."

Raka looked up at the sky. "If he is our final destination… then this is just the beginning."

The sky was no longer the same as before. The clouds swirled like swirls of ink. Bolts of lightning flashed from a dimensional rift torn in space, and through it was the Black Tower, rising from the horizon—defying the laws of gravity, tilting toward the sky like a spear piercing reality. Raka stood on the edge of the cliff with Lyra, Moksa, and Vannir. The wind carried soft whispers that were not of this world.

"The tower was not here before," Lyra murmured.

"It is not the tower that is coming," Moksa replied quietly. "But our world is moving toward it."

Raka looked at the artifact map, which now revealed a new location: the Empty Point—a once undetectable zone that now glowed darkly in the center of the map.

"All the keys have been collected, but none of them open the way back," Raka said.

"Because it is not the way back that we will find," Vannir hissed. "But the origin of everything."

TOWARDS THE VOID POINT

They moved swiftly, riding shadow wyverns—creatures of Moksa's ancient magic and technology. Their flight took them to a region where sky and earth were passing through each other, as if dimensions were beginning to collapse.

As they traveled, they witnessed strange sights:

Rivers flowing upward. Mountains rejecting shadows. Figures of people walking backward, as if time were running in reverse.

Vannir activated a reality stabilization spell.

"We are at the edge of dimensions. If we take too long, we could… break apart."

Raka stared at the Black Tower, which was now more clearly visible. Its peak appeared cracked, and from the crack emanated a dark red light, as if an eye that never blinked.

THE TALKING TOWER

When they landed at the base of the tower, the ground was like a living skin. The walls of the tower breathed softly, and the whispers were now clearer.

> "Raka… the explorer… the complement of the cracks…"

They climbed a seemingly endless spiral staircase. Each step took them to a different event from the past. The voices of Raka's father, his mother, his childhood, even the voices of old enemies rang in their ears.

"I don't know if we're going up or down," Lyra said, gripping her spear tightly.

"This tower does not obey space," Moksa said. "It adapts to our fears."

Suddenly, a thunderous voice boomed from above.

> "YOU SEARCH FOR THE BEGINNING. YOU SHALL BE PART OF THE END."

The tower's walls split. From the gap, a Faceless Shadow emerged—tall, smoky, with dozens of eyes, and arms that were constantly changing shape. This was the guardian of the final dimension.

BATTLE AGAINST THE DIMENSIONAL GUARDIAN

Their attacks were not conventional. The shadows attacked by manipulating reality—turning the floor into ocean, turning the air into stone, and turning their shadows into enemies.

"DON'T BELIEVE YOUR EYES!" Vannir shouted.

Moksa cast an Anti-Causality Spell, breaking the reality manipulation effect for 30 seconds.

"RAKA! THE FIFTH KEY! USE IT NOW!" Raka threw the five keys into the air. They came together to form the Gate Circle, and for the first time ever—time stopped.

In the silence, Raka approached, stabbing the Sword of Time into the now-frozen heart of the Guardian of Dimension. But before the enemy was destroyed, he looked at Raka.

> "You think this is all about saving the world? You are nothing more than a tool. And tools never know who holds them."

With a final scream, the Guardian of Dimension exploded into thousands of black mirrors, and each shard showed the same face—Raka's face.

TOWER CORE CHAMBER

In the center of the summit chamber, there was a crystal throne and a figure sitting upon it—wrapped in a shadowy robe, his face covered by a cracked golden mask.

"Welcome… Raka the Adventurer."

Raka stepped forward. "Who are you?"

"A name is a luxury I do not deserve. But you may call me… The Compiler."

The figure stood. With a snap of his fingers, the room transformed into an endless starry space. Around them, thousands of versions of Raka from other dimensions—some alive, some dead, some tyrants—were visible.

"Do you think you're special? No, Raka. You're a fragment. And your job… is to unite."

"No!" Lyra shouted.

But the Arranger only smiled. "This war isn't about saving the world… but about uniting all possibilities into one—for the birth of the New God."

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To be continued...