The stairs to Floor 12 didn't spiral.
The world spiraled around them.
The moment Ayato stepped onto the marble ledge, his stomach dropped as if he'd missed a step in the dark. Gravity twisted sideways, and the hallway ahead unfurled like a living thing—a coil of ancient bone etched with glowing divine glyphs. The walls pulsed, whispering secrets in voices too low to catch, singing a song that vibrated through his skull.
'This isn't just a hallway. It's alive. It's watching. Every step feels like walking into the throat of a god.'
He swallowed hard, hands flexing at his sides. The air was thick with something he couldn't name—not fear, not anticipation, but a kind of dread that settled deep in his gut and refused to move.
Mio walked beside him, her eyes scanning the shifting patterns on the walls. She moved with quiet purpose, but her fingers trembled ever so slightly.
'This place is eating us alive. One memory at a time.'
She felt the weight of every loss, every lie, every secret she'd carried since the first cycle. The pendant around her neck—silver, cold against her skin—was a reminder of a promise she'd made in silence.
'It's not just about surviving anymore. It's about remembering. Even when the Tower tries to make us forget.'
Her breath was shallow, her heart a drumbeat in her chest. She knew what was coming. She'd seen it in the runes, in the way the shadows moved, in the way Ayato's eyes flickered with confusion when he tried to recall a name that wouldn't come.
Ren trailed behind them, blade unsheathed, his face set in a grimace. His hands shook—not from fear, but from a rage that simmered just beneath the surface.
'Whatever this is, it's not good. Nothing in this Tower ever is.'
He clenched his jaw, the memory of Kazuki's smirk burning in his mind. The fight with the Warden had left him hollow, his body aching, his mind a storm of doubt and anger.
'He got away again. And now Ayato acts like nothing happened. Like we're not all falling apart.'
Ren's grip on his sword tightened. He wanted to scream, to break something, to make the Tower pay for every scar, every loss, every memory it had stolen. But he kept walking, because stopping meant admitting defeat.
A system notification blazed in the air, casting eerie red light across their faces.
[Floor 12: The Spiral Throne]
"To ascend, one must sit where kings wept."
– Objective: Take the Spiral Throne
– Rule: Only one may sit
– Warning: All who refuse the throne must kneel
Ayato tried to focus—on the trial, on the votes, on the fight.
"We won, didn't we?"
He searched his mind for a memory. A name. A voice. A face.
There was…
nothing.
Just static.
'You lost something. Someone. You let the Tower decide. Didn't even fight back.'
He frowned, rubbing his temples. The pain was sharp, a needle behind his eyes.
'Why can't I remember? Who am I missing?'
He glanced around.
Mio. Ren.
Wasn't there supposed to be…
"Three…"
He whispered it, barely audible.
Mio flinched. Ren didn't react.
Mio walked a half-step behind Ayato, her eyes never leaving his back.
'He doesn't even know he's forgetting her. The Tower erased Yui from him… and he thanked it for it.'
Her throat tightened. She wanted to scream. To grab his shoulders and shake him until the memory came back.
'But if I do… Ayato would bleed. And so would I.'
She gripped the silver pendant around her neck—one she'd conjured from memory.
It had belonged to Yui.
She remembered giving it back to her on Floor 5.
But now—to Ayato—it was just "a charm Mio always wore."
'This Tower kills people in more ways than one.'
She felt the weight of every secret, every lie, every moment she'd kept to herself. The guilt gnawed at her, a constant ache in her chest. She wondered if she'd ever be able to tell him the truth—if he'd ever remember the vow they'd made in the dark.
Ren kept walking forward, blade unsheathed.
He hadn't spoken since the Warden Trial.
His hands still trembled. Not from fear—from rage.
'Kazuki disappeared. Ayato gave him that opening. And now Ayato acts like nothing happened.'
He couldn't decide who to punch more—Kazuki or Ayato.
But what scared him most was the third option:
Himself.
'You hesitated. You voted for Kazuki. But what if you were wrong?'
The doubt ate at him, a worm in his mind. He'd seen the way Mio looked at Ayato, the way she carried the weight of every loss. He'd seen the way Ayato struggled to remember.
'We're all breaking. And there's nothing we can do to stop it.'
He clenched his fists, the pain in his shoulder a dull throb. He wanted to fight, to scream, to make the Tower pay. But he kept walking, because stopping meant giving up.
The spiral hallway ended at a vast circular chamber.
And there it stood:
Carved from blackstone and fossilized rootbone, the Spiral Throne rose twenty steps above the floor. It pulsed faintly—not with light, but with remembrance.
The room was lined with mirrors.
But not reflective ones—recording ones.
Each panel showed moments of students' lives in the Tower.
'Yui bandaging someone. Kenta smiling, before Floor 2. Daichi crying as he lost control.'
The images flickered, shifting with every breath, every heartbeat.
And in the largest mirror—a crackling blank square.
Ayato stared.
He didn't know why, but it made him sick to look at.
'What's missing? Who am I not seeing?'
The emptiness gnawed at him, a hole in his memory, a void where something important used to be.
He clenched his fists, the frustration bubbling up inside him.
'Why can't I remember? Why does it hurt so much?'
A system announcement echoed through the chamber.
"The Spiral Throne seeks one who remembers what was forgotten.
Kneel to refuse. Sit to bear the weight."
Time Limit: 10 Minutes
"This is a trap," Ren growled, his voice rough with anger.
"They all are," Mio replied, her voice soft but steady.
"Then I'll sit," Ayato said suddenly, his voice flat, his eyes distant.
They turned.
"You don't even know what it is," Ren snapped, his temper flaring.
Ayato didn't answer.
"Someone has to lead. We can't keep crawling forward like rats."
His voice was hollow, his mind a storm of confusion and pain.
'What am I missing? Who am I forgetting? Why does it hurt so much?'
He climbed the stairs, each step making his bones vibrate.
The system whispered in reverse tongues, fragments of memory almost returning—but vanishing before he could grasp them.
'It's like trying to catch smoke. Every time I reach for it, it slips away.'
When he reached the top and sat, the throne injected memory straight into his mind.
A pre-classroom moment.
Kazuki and Ayato, in uniform, watching simulations.
Kazuki: "This Tower will choose one of us, you know."
Ayato: "I don't want it."
Kazuki: "Then I'll take it. And you'll thank me for it later."
[You lost this memory during Cycle 2.]
Ayato gasped, hand over his chest.
'Why now? Why return this? What did the throne see in me?'
The memory burned, a brand on his mind. He remembered the way Kazuki had smiled, the way he'd always been one step ahead.
'He knew. He always knew. And now I remember.'
The pain was sharp, a knife twisting in his gut. He wanted to scream, to rage, to make the Tower pay for every loss, every lie, every memory it had stolen. But he sat still, his body trembling, his mind a storm of confusion and rage.
The throne spoke.
Not aloud—but into the mind of all present.
"You remember one truth now.
But lose another."
A glyph burned across Ayato's chest.
[Karmic Balance Update]
+1 Hidden Memory (Kazuki Pre-Cycle Bond)
-1 Fragmented Memory (Observer Pact with Mio)
Mio gasped—clutching her head.
"Ayato—do you remember… our vow?"
Her voice was desperate, her eyes wide with fear.
He looked at her, confused.
"What vow?"
His voice was hollow, his mind a blank where the memory should have been.
Mio's expression crumpled.
She felt the loss like a physical blow, a knife in her chest.
'He doesn't remember. He doesn't know what we promised each other. He doesn't know what he's lost.'
The guilt and grief threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to scream, to cry, to make the Tower pay for every loss, every lie, every memory it had stolen. But she stood still, her body trembling, her mind a storm of confusion and pain.
Ren watched them both, his heart a drumbeat in his chest.
He felt the weight of every loss, every lie, every secret he'd carried since the first cycle.
'We're all breaking. And there's nothing we can do to stop it.'
He clenched his fists, the pain in his shoulder a dull throb. He wanted to fight, to scream, to make the Tower pay. But he kept his mouth shut, his mind a storm of doubt and anger.
The mirrors shattered.
The throne glowed—then dimmed.
[Floor 12: Spiral Throne – Cleared]
New Leader recognized: Ayato Kurobane
Cycle Authority: Partial
Observer Role Upgraded: "Karma Architect" (Locked)
As the light faded, Ayato stood.
He felt taller. He felt… emptier.
"What did it take from me?" he whispered, his voice cracking.
Mio didn't answer.
She felt the loss like a physical blow, a knife in her chest.
'He doesn't remember. He doesn't know what we promised each other. He doesn't know what he's lost.'
She wanted to scream, to cry, to make the Tower pay for every loss, every lie, every memory it had stolen. But she stood still, her body trembling, her mind a storm of confusion and pain.
Ren stared ahead coldly.
He felt the weight of every loss, every lie, every secret he'd carried since the first cycle.
'We're all breaking. And there's nothing we can do to stop it.'
He clenched his fists, the pain in his shoulder a dull throb. He wanted to fight, to scream, to make the Tower pay. But he kept his mouth shut, his mind a storm of doubt and anger.
The system chimed again.
[Next Floor: The False Feast – Floor 13]
Prepare for the Echo Banquet.
All guests must eat what they once denied.
Mio stood in the dark, after the others moved on.
She whispered into her hands:
"I'll remember her for both of us.
Even if it kills me."
Her voice was a thread, a promise, a vow she'd made in the dark.
She felt the weight of every loss, every lie, every memory she'd carried since the first cycle.
'This Tower kills people in more ways than one.'
She turned to follow them, her heart a drumbeat in her chest, her mind a storm of confusion and pain.
Ayato walked ahead, his mind a blank where the memory should have been.
He felt the loss like a physical blow, a knife in his chest.
'What am I missing? Who am I forgetting? Why does it hurt so much?'
He clenched his fists, the frustration bubbling up inside him.
He wanted to scream, to rage, to make the Tower pay for every loss, every lie, every memory it had stolen. But he kept walking, because stopping meant giving up.
Ren trailed behind, his hands shaking, his mind a storm of doubt and anger.
He felt the weight of every loss, every lie, every secret he'd carried since the first cycle.
'We're all breaking. And there's nothing we can do to stop it.'
He clenched his fists, the pain in his shoulder a dull throb. He wanted to fight, to scream, to make the Tower pay. But he kept his mouth shut, his mind a storm of confusion and pain.
The three of them moved forward, their hearts heavy, their minds a storm of confusion and pain.
They were all breaking.
And there was nothing they could do to stop it.
(Chapter 19 End)