Leon stepped inside before anyone could stop him.
A memory shimmered into view.
A team of four rookies stood in formation. Younger Leon at the front. One by one, the others vanished—pulled into silence.
Then the memory Leon turned and ran.
The scene froze.
Kael entered behind him. "You never told us about this."
Leon didn't look away. "Because I don't remember running."
"They edited it," Roselia said softly. "The Choir's erasing guilt, rewriting fear."
Leon stepped forward, raised his hand—and deleted the echo manually.
He looked at the team. "Let's keep going."
The core of Floor 369 was ahead.
A vast chamber of memory anchors—crystal spires that held the Tower's earliest pulse patterns.
But now, the spires were cracked.
And beneath them, in the center of the chamber, stood something new.
It looked human.
Mostly.
Tall, and armored in fragments of silver and black Choir thread. Its head was featureless—except for four masks, rotating around a central core.
