The golden sigil flared behind him.
A low hum passed over Nikolai's skin as he stepped off the 70th floor and into the Tower District — the passage between the upper floors and the Nexus transit chamber. He expected chatter. Footsteps. The buzz of adventurers dealing with vendors, translators, or just finding food.
Instead—
Silence.
The wide street was empty.
"Strange..."
'There's nothing here.'
It wasn't right—this couldn't be the Tower District he knew.
A sense of danger tickled his spine.
Lanterns still flickered from archways, and glowing tiles still lit the winding road, but not a single voice echoed through the air. Not even from the echo chambers above. The wooden shops, usually stacked with elixirs and relics, sat open but unmanned.
A half-eaten skewer of meat lay on a bench.
Still warm.
His feet slowed.
A low pulse beat once at the base of his spine — not magic, but instinct. That primal awareness that told beasts when to run, when to stay still, when to kill.
