The door behind them closed with a hiss.
Before them lay a lush, sunlit garden—unnaturally perfect. Vines wound around wrought-iron arches. Trees swayed with a wind that didn't exist. Petals blinked like living things. The sky was blue, too blue—like something copied from memory instead of nature.
Ayato didn't move. He stared at the garden, his heart thudding in his chest. 'This floor's wrong. It's too pretty. Too fake. It's waiting to bite.' He felt the others behind him, their presence heavy and uncertain. Every breath he took tasted like nostalgia and fear.
"This floor's wrong," he said, voice low.
Ren snorted, but his eyes were wary. "No kidding. I feel like I'm about to get jumped by a rosebush."
Mio just watched the swaying trees, her arms crossed over her chest. 'It's beautiful. But it's the kind of beauty that comes with a price. The Tower doesn't give us anything for free.'
A system notification shimmered in the air, the letters curling like vines.
[Floor 15: The Lie Garden]
"Every truth you bury will bloom."
– Objective: Tend to your personal bloom without lying.
– Rule: Lies will be absorbed and made visible.
– Karma Shard penalties apply to exposed deceivers.
"You may deceive others — but not the Garden."
Six classmates remained in the group now. Ayato, Mio, Ren, Kenta (the mutated), Arisa, and Saki. Each was led to a separate garden plot, a circle of soil glowing faintly. In the center: a sapling. Colorless. Still.
Ayato stared at his plot. The soil looked soft, almost inviting, but there was a coldness to it that made his skin crawl. 'This is some twisted gardening club assignment. Except here, the flowers bite back.'
Ren muttered, "This is some twisted gardening club assignment."
Ayato shook his head. "No. This is about emotional honesty. Or the lack of it."
Ren scowled. "So what happens if we lie?"
The garden answered for him. A voice—feminine, mechanical—spoke from everywhere and nowhere.
"Confess a truth you've never said aloud. To yourself. Or to others. Water your seed with it."
Ayato crouched before his sapling. His reflection shimmered in the soil, warped and uncertain. 'What's my truth? That I didn't want to lead? That I missed Yui—who might not even exist? That part of me… wanted this control?' He felt the pressure building, the need to say something real, something raw.
He spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I remember a different version of this place. Where everyone died. And I didn't care."
The soil drank the words. The sapling twitched, a faint pulse of color running up its stem. Ayato felt a shiver run through him. 'It's alive. It's feeding on us.'
Mio's voice echoed faintly across the garden. "I hated being needed. That's why I always seemed strong." Her sapling grew immediately, a flush of violet spreading through its leaves. Mio watched it, her face unreadable. 'I hated it. I hated the way everyone looked to me for answers. I wanted to run. But I stayed. Why did I stay?'
Ren muttered, "I wanted Kazuki dead long before the Tower changed him." His sapling cracked open, thorny and black. He bled from the hand, but didn't flinch. The Garden accepted it. 'I wanted him gone. I wanted him to pay. Does that make me worse than him?'
The garden was silent for a moment, as if savoring their confessions. Then the saplings began to speak back—echoing the lies they told themselves.
Ayato's plant whispered, "You like being the one in control. Admit it. You're not scared—you're addicted."
He flinched, the words cutting deeper than he expected. 'Is that true? Do I like this? Do I like being the one who decides who lives and who dies?'
But he didn't deny it.
Mio's plant said, "You would abandon Ayato to save yourself."
She hesitated—then touched a petal. "Yes. If it came to it." The Garden purred, the leaves shivering in approval. Mio's eyes stung. 'Would I really? I want to say no. But I can't lie. Not here.'
Ren's plant accused, "You're still lying. You were the one who started the fire in Floor 6."
Ren swore, his voice raw. The plant bloomed violently, the sky rippled. "Lie confirmed. Karma Shard penalty applied." His skin flared with glyphs, burning with shame. "You can't prove that!" he shouted. "You don't have to. The Garden already knows."
The garden rotated. Their individual plots aligned—now everyone saw each other's flowers. Each bloom revealed a lie caught and a truth accepted.
Ayato's plant was red and silver: guilt and control. He stared at it, feeling exposed. 'Everyone can see. They all know what I am now.'
Mio's was deep violet: loneliness and pride. She looked away, her cheeks burning. 'I can't hide anymore. They know I'm not as strong as I pretend to be.'
Ren's bled black: rage and self-loathing. He clenched his fists, the pain in his hands grounding him. 'This is who I am. I can't run from it.'
Arisa's plant didn't bloom. Her lie remained unconfessed. She stood rigid, her eyes wide with terror. Kenta's plant screeched—a mutation of fear and hunger. Saki's was pale gold. Forgiveness—but for who?
The system spoke again:
[Player Ayato: Truth Rank – S]
[Player Mio: Truth Rank – A]
[Player Ren: C – Penalty: Hallucination Level 1]
"Player Arisa: Deception detected. Bloom inverted."
Arisa screamed as her plant wrapped around her ankle and dragged her into the soil. Her form spasmed—then stopped. When it spat her out, her eyes were milky white.
"I didn't mean it…" she whispered, her voice hollow. "I didn't want to betray anyone. I just… I lied to myself." She was marked with a Karma Scar, a jagged line glowing on her cheek.
The garden fell silent. The air was thick with the scent of regret and fear. They were allowed to leave, but no one moved. Not until the elevator appeared, its doors opening with a soft chime.
Ayato turned to Mio, his voice shaking. "Did you really mean it? You'd abandon me?"
She didn't answer immediately. She looked at him, her eyes full of pain and something else—hope, maybe, or just exhaustion. "I meant it... back then." She stepped into the lift. "Now? I don't know. Maybe I'd drag you with me."
Ayato watched her go, his heart heavy. 'Would I abandon her? Would I leave any of them behind? I want to say no. But I don't know anymore.'
Ren followed, his steps slow and uncertain. He glanced back at the garden, then at Ayato. "You coming, or what?"
Ayato nodded, stepping into the elevator. The doors closed behind them, sealing the garden away.
As the elevator rose, no one spoke. The silence was heavy, full of things left unsaid. Ayato stared at the floor, his mind a storm of guilt and confusion. 'What am I supposed to do now? How do I lead when I don't even know who I am anymore?'
Mio leaned against the wall, her eyes closed. 'I can't keep carrying this alone. I need him to remember. I need him to see me. But the Tower won't let him.'
Ren stared at his hands, the glyphs still burning on his skin. 'I can't keep lying. Not to them. Not to myself. But the truth hurts more than I thought it would.'
The elevator stopped. The doors slid open, revealing the next floor—a hall of masks and shifting shadows.
A system update flashed in the air.
[Floor 15: The Lie Garden – Cleared]
Trust metrics recalibrated.
Player guilt encoded into system memory.
Next Floor: Floor 16 – The Masked Auction
As the door slid shut behind them, the flowers kept blooming long after they were gone. Even truth, once confessed, kept growing.
Ayato looked at Mio, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm scared."
She reached for his hand. "Me too."
Ren just nodded. "Let's get this over with."
They stepped into the darkness, the Tower whispering behind them.
'Even when you tell the truth, the scars stay.'
(Chapter 22 End)