The Curator's knowing smile didn't fade. He looked at Jade and Zero, his ancient eyes holding a glint of something akin to pity.
"You asked if they were real," he began, his voice losing its ethereal echo, becoming disturbingly conversational. "The answer is yes. Too real. And you just stumbled into their playground."
He gestured vaguely, and the sterile white corridor around them seemed to blur, the walls becoming transparent for a moment, revealing a dizzying, infinite vista of the Tower's countless floors stretching into an impossible abyss.
"What you know is a speck of dust," the Curator stated. "The Tower is not just a challenge. It is an empire. And every empire needs a king."
Jade, still leaning on Zero, felt a cold that had nothing to do with his exhaustion. "A king?"
"A being of such power he stands on par with the gods who forged this place," the Curator confirmed. "An Anomaly who carved out a kingdom within the divine machinery. He keeps to his own affairs, and the gods, in their wisdom, seem content with this arrangement… for now."
He let that hang in the air before continuing. "A king needs heirs. He has mated with the strongest species across realities—Titans, Dragons, even beings of pure void—to produce offspring of unparalleled might. There are nine of them. Six Princes. Three Princesses. Natural-born sovereigns of this realm, each wielding a power you cannot yet comprehend."
The sheer scale of it was staggering. They weren't just climbing a tower; they were trespassing in a royal dynasty's domain.
"The King's chosen followers, those he elevated, have bred their own lines," the Curator went on. "Counts, Dukes, Archdukes… a full aristocracy of power. The Tower is layered with their empires."
"The being you met on Floor 5? The one on the throne? He was no king. He was a Duke. A favored servant, granted a sliver of authority to rule a simulated court. The true royalty would not deign to preside over such a petty masquerade."
The Curator's gaze sharpened on Jade. "And that 'masquerade' was a trap. Its programming was overwritten by a signal from the upper floors. Someone with the authority of a Duke or higher wanted you dead. They sent you directly into the orbit of Lady Anya."
"She is a Ranker," the Curator clarified, seeing the question in their eyes. "A title earned from Floor 10 onward. The climb transforms there. It becomes a sprawling, metropolitan empire ruled by one of the Crown Princesses. There, you choose to enter the Ranking System—a gladiatorial politics where the strong become legends, cherished and sponsored by the royal families and the great Guilds. Rankers are untouchable. To refuse to rank is to become a ghost, invisible and powerless."
He looked at their shocked faces, these two fledgling powers who had believed they were conquering a tower.
Jade and Zero stood in stunned silence. The Sanctuary, the Floors, their entire struggle, it was all a provincial prelude to a game they didn't even know they were playing.
"The Tower you have seen," the Curator said softly, "is a single grain of sand on an endless beach. You have not even begun to see its true size, its true politics, its true horror."
He looked at them, these two shattered, powerful anomalies.
The Curator vanished, his form dissolving back into the seamless white of the wall, leaving his words echoing in the silent corridor. The weight of the revelation was a physical pressure, more crushing than any enemy they had faced.
Jade slowly straightened, his body still screaming in protest, but his mind was a whirlwind of icy calculation. The Obsidian Core within him, dormant and frozen, seemed to pulse once—not with power, but with a deep, resonant hunger. An empire. A throne. A king who was a god.
A slow, terrifying smile touched his bloodless lips. It was not a smile of joy, but of recognition. Of a perfect, ultimate challenge finally revealing itself.
Zero watched him, his own void-like calm fractured by the new data. His silver-green eyes, usually so flat, now held a sharp, calculating light. He was processing not just the threat, but the new battlefield. Politics. Guilds. Rankers.
"The variable has been redefined," Zero stated, his voice cutting through the silence. "Our objective is no longer simply to climb. It is to understand the hierarchy. To identify the entity that targeted us."
He looked at Jade, his gaze unwavering. "The probability of our demise has increased by 400%. Our current power is insufficient. We require a new paradigm."
Jade met his gaze, the psychotic glint in his eyes mirroring the cold focus in Zero's. "He said we were subjects," Jade murmured, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "He said we should learn the rules."
He took a shaky step forward, no longer leaning on Zero, his own will becoming the pillar that held him upright.
"To hell with that."
The words were not a shout, but a vow. A declaration thrown at the feet of the unseen King.
"We don't learn the rules of the empire, Zero," Jade said, his smile widening into something feral and unhinged. "We break them. We don't bow to the King."
He looked up, as if his gaze could pierce through the countless floors above to that shrouded, celestial throne room.
"We become him."
In that moment, supported by his partner and fueled by a terrifying new purpose, the climb was reborn. It was no longer about survival or conquest.
It was about usurpation.
"Prepare yourselves. The tutorial is over. Welcome to the empire."
Jade's newfound resolve carried him back to his room, the grandiose plans of usurping a god-king momentarily overshadowing the deep ache in his bones. The Soul Fatigue was a leaden cloak, and every step was a reminder of his current fragility. As the door hissed shut behind him, the sterile silence felt heavier than ever.
"I need rest," he stated flatly to Zero, who had followed him like a shadow. "Alone. We cannot strategize while I am… compromised."
Zero gave a single, sharp nod. "Understood. I will be nearby." He turned and left, a sentinel taking his post.
Alone at last, Jade let out a slow, weary breath and collapsed onto his bed, not even bothering to remove his clothes. The darkness of true, exhausted sleep claimed him almost instantly.
He didn't know how long he'd been out when consciousness slowly returned. He tried to stretch, a groan forming in his throat, but his limbs felt heavy, pinned. The air was different. It was cold, but carried a familiar, intoxicating scent—frost-kissed roses and something metallic, like old blood.
His eyes snapped open.
This was not his room.
The lighting was dim, cast from ornate, crystalline sconces that threw dancing shadows across walls of polished black obsidian. The bed he lay in was vast, draped in silks of deep crimson and silver. It was opulent, ancient, and deeply, intimately feminine.
Seraphina's chambers.
And then he felt it, the source of the weight. A slender, cool leg was draped possessively over his hips. An arm was curled across his chest, a pale hand resting directly over the slow, steady beat of his heart.
He turned his head.
Seraphina was seated on the edge of the bed, leaning over him. She wasn't just in a nightgown; it was a whisper of sheer, black silk so transparent it hid nothing, outlining the devastating, slender curves of her body and leaving the pale, perfect skin beneath tantalizingly visible. Her river of silver hair cascaded over one shoulder, framing a face of predatory, timeless beauty. Her crimson eyes glowed in the dim light, watching him with a hunger that had nothing to do with food.
"What are you doing?" Jade asked, his voice raspy from sleep, but his glacial composure instantly locking into place.
A slow, devastating smile graced her lips. She leaned closer, the scent of her enveloping him, the heat of her body a stark contrast to her cool skin. Her fingers traced a slow, deliberate path from his chest up to his jawline.
"My darling Vessel," she purred, her voice a husky whisper that promised both pleasure and pain. "You've been through so much. I felt your exhaustion… your weakness." Her gaze dipped to his throat, then back to his eyes, burning with possessive intensity. "And it has made me so very… hungry."
She shifted, her weight settling more fully atop him, her face hovering just inches from his. The thin silk of her gown was the only barrier between them.
"Now," she whispered, her breath cool against his lips. "You know what to do."