No sound greeted Veyne as he stepped forward—only reflection. Each mirrored panel along the walls shimmered faintly, casting back distorted images of him: taller, thinner, covered in ash, crowned in fire, wrapped in chains. Thousands of versions, all different, all wrong.
He paused at the center.
Revelation Instinct activated.
[Floor Type: Trial of Echoes – False Identity Erasure]
[Objective: Prove identity by defeating rejected selves]
A ripple surged across the floor. The ground cracked into circular plates, each one drifting slightly apart. From the mirrors, shadows poured forth—copies of Veyne made real. Ten of them. Twenty. Fifty. Each wore a different fate. One wept blood. One carried a crown of thorns. Another bore the child he never saved, fused to his chest like a parasite.
"Name yourself," the Tower intoned, voice booming from the reflections.
"I am Veyne," he answered.
"Then prove it."
The first doppelgänger lunged. It wielded a sword made of teeth, howling as it struck. Veyne ducked, rolled, countered with a thrust of flame-imbued instinct—but the thing didn't die. It exploded into ink and reformed, faster.
The others followed.
What followed was chaos.
Blades clashed. Illusions screamed. One version fought with kindness, another with hatred. One begged for forgiveness, whispering a past Veyne didn't recognize. Each one tried to assert itself, clawing for dominance.
One of them, with eyes like stars and a voice like hollow glass, whispered a truth that stopped Veyne cold: "You were never meant to survive the first floor."
He faltered. That was true. By all accounts, he should have died. The Tower had shown no mercy to stronger, wiser people. But something in him kept moving.
He stepped aside instead of attacking, letting that shadow pass. It vanished without resistance. Not all wounds had to be fought. Some just needed space to bleed and close.
Another self, older and broken-backed, hunched over with burden, tried to share memories Veyne didn't recall. A life of peace. A wife. Children. A farm.
"Who are you?" Veyne asked.
"I'm the life you wanted before the fire. Before the Tower."
"I never had a farm."
"No. But you wanted one."
He let that one fade gently too.
But not all were gentle. One version looked exactly like him—except for the grin. Too wide. Eyes empty.
"You're not real," Veyne said.
"I'm the one who enjoys the killing."
They fought. This one didn't disappear with a whisper. It needed fire. It needed blood.
The mirrors cracked as they clashed. Shards embedded in flesh. Veyne's knuckles broke. His breath became ragged.
He whispered to himself: "I am not you."
But the echo replied: "Not yet."
An hour passed. Maybe more. The Tower bent time in impossible loops.
Only one doppelgänger remained. A child.
A small boy with Veyne's eyes, carrying a book made of black feathers.
"What are you?" Veyne asked.
"I am your story before the Tower touched it."
The boy handed him the book.
Veyne opened it. Inside were blank pages. But as he flipped through, words appeared:
He was afraid of being forgotten.
He hated the way his hands trembled when no one was watching.
He dreamed of being someone others would fear, just so they'd remember his name.
"Stop," Veyne said, closing the book.
"Why?" the child asked.
"Because I know now. I don't need to read it. I remember it."
The boy smiled, and the book turned to ash.
[Trial Complete: Emotional Integration Successful]
[Revelation Instinct Upgrade Available]
Veyne stood taller. Clearer. More whole. The versions of him that still remained knelt, then vanished. The floor quieted.
But the Tower wasn't done.
From the mirror behind him emerged a new entity—one that didn't match any reflection.
A woman. Robed in paper. Hair like melted silver. Her face was featureless, a smooth surface that showed only one thing:
Veyne's own face.
"I am the Echo Archivist," she said. Her voice was many voices layered. Male. Female. Old. Childlike.
"You've earned dominion over your echoes. Now learn to wield them."
She opened her arms. Behind her, the shattered mirror turned into a library of light.
"Step into your past. And mine."
Veyne hesitated. Then entered.
Inside, the walls were made of moments. Glass panes showed events he remembered—and many he didn't. Past tower climbers. Their deaths. Their final words.
He passed by one that showed a girl whispering to herself in a crumbling cell: "If someone finds this memory, don't become like me."
Another showed a man breaking the mirror floor, screaming: "The Tower lies. There is no end."
Veyne turned away.
At the end of the corridor, a single mirror stood. Unlike the others, this one showed not memory but potential.
He saw himself older. Wiser. Or crueler. It changed based on how long he stared.
The Echo Archivist spoke: "The Tower doesn't shape you. It reflects what you offer it. Now choose how you want to be remembered."
Revelation Instinct evolved into Revelation Dominion.
New Perk: Sovereign Memory – You may preserve or erase selected echoes to influence future floors.
New Active Skill: Echo Blade – Form a temporary weapon forged from discarded versions of the self. Strength and abilities depend on emotional resonance.
As Veyne exited the library, he passed through the last mirror.
He looked at his reflection. It didn't speak. It didn't move.
It nodded.
And then shattered.
[Floor Cleared]
As he limped into the staircase for the fifteenth floor, he saw a single word etched on the stone:
"Remember."