Chapter Seventeen – Echo of Secrets
The sky was clear, a flawless mirror without a single cloud. The air moved with a strange gentleness—neither bitter cold nor suffocating heat. The city pulsed with quiet life; the voices of merchants in the market rose and fell like languid melodies, whispering a deceptive calm that would not last long. And while the world seemed sunk in a soft dream, in a dark corner of one building, three uneasy breaths trembled in the silence.
Asia spoke, his voice breaking between caution and worry like a wave shattering against a rock:
"As you know… Selin is a free adventurer. He was never invited to the Tower, so he chose the path of wandering. Either his name will be etched on the walls of oblivion, or carved in golden letters in the pages of glory. He left the realm of the Scholars, seeking the unknown in the farthest reaches of Alpha… where no one dares to set foot."
Silence thickened like fog. Leila and Rashad stared at Asia, their eyes fixed on him, trying to catch the meaning hidden behind his words, as though his voice alone could not reveal the danger lurking in the shadows.
He went on, lowering his tone, as if whispering to the spirits of the dead:
"We asked Selin to go to the place where Ayas was found. Perhaps he would discover something—anything—to guide us toward his origin, his kind, or even a fleeting glimpse of his buried past."
Asia paused, drew a deep breath, then continued slowly, as if every word were being torn from his soul with iron hooks:
"In one of his perilous journeys, Selin reached a dense and misleading forest, pulsing with a living darkness. Not a single ray of light penetrated it; no bird, no insect stirred. The stench of stagnant marshes choked the air. As he walked among the twisted trees, he felt the world was silent—far too silent."
His voice quivered like a leaf in the wind:
"The deeper he went, the more he heard strange whispers… not words, but cold breaths whispering directly into his mind. The air there was heavy, icy, as though something unseen were breathing beside him. Even his fingers and toes trembled, though he possessed inhuman strength. Selin had never felt fear like this before in his life."
Leila gasped softly, pressing a hand to her lips, while Rashad's brows furrowed, his mouth shut tight—but his eyes screamed with dread.
Asia pressed on, his tone strained, as if recalling a living nightmare:
"As he pushed forward through that suffocating blackness… he caught sight of a faint light in the distance, a strange blend of blue and green. An illusion? No. It was real—pulsing like a living heart. He ran toward it, his chest pounding like war drums, and there…"
Asia fell silent for a long moment, gathering his courage, before whispering with awe and dread:
"He found a cave. Small, narrow, barely enough for three or four people. On its damp walls, carvings were etched—intricate symbols in a language no human had ever known."
Rashad leaned closer, his voice hushed, as though afraid to believe:
"A cave? With strange carvings? What did they say?"
Asia's voice trembled:
"Selin decided to study them carefully. He copied every symbol, traced every line, committed each mark to memory… but during this painstaking task, he felt something terrifying. Not a body, not a shape—but an awareness. The remnant of an ancient spirit. An unseen presence that lingered in that place like an eternal echo."
Rashad's chest tightened, his words barely restrained:
"An awareness? Of an invisible being? What are you saying?"
Leila muttered to herself, her voice barely audible:
"What could such a being be? What kind of powers are we facing?"
But none of them knew that this dreadful mystery was only the beginning of a far greater tragedy…
And as that ominous conversation unfolded, seeping into their bones like an icy draft, something even stranger was stirring in silence—high in the upper floors of the Tower.
---
A Shift in Scene
Suddenly—as though time itself twisted backward and shuddered—the Goblin invoked a strange kind of magical projection, or perhaps a layered illusion!
Colors shivered like autumn leaves. Sounds tore apart. And before Saman's stunned eyes, the scene split open, revealing a doorway invisible to ordinary sight—a temporal gate leading to an ancient past. Not of Earth, but of a nameless world, erased from history and buried in the silence of forgotten time.
---
Flashback – Before the Tower's Birth
That distant world looked as though it had been carved from the essence of dreams themselves…
A sky pure as crystal, endless green forests breathing like a colossal living creature, lakes transparent as glass where even your deepest thoughts seemed to reflect upon their surface. Everything was pure and beautiful, untouched by corruption or evil, as though such forces had not yet been born.
The Goblin's deep voice emerged from nothingness, heavy with sorrow and longing, whispering like a final tale told to the universe before its eternal slumber:
> "Before the Tower was born from the womb of darkness…
Before wills were stolen and hung like trophies upon the walls of its floors…
There existed a rare kind of magic.
A power not bound to race or blood,
But awakened in a rare few—those who could see what no ordinary eyes could see…
Those who could read the current of time itself, and feel the hidden breath of the world."
Visions unfolded, dreamlike and slow, as if drawn from some forgotten slumber…
Creatures of every kind walked across the screen of memory: noble-faced humans, goblins with wise eyes, half-giants of immense strength, beings of clay and fire, and countless others. They all lived upon the same sacred earth, beneath the same blue sky—but not all were equal in gift.
Among them existed a rare order, the ones called "those of deeper sight." Sometimes they were known as the Echo. At times, the Beacon. But their true name, known to only a few, was the Chosen.
> "Whenever one of them was born, everything around them began to change.
They were destined to lead their people—not through brute strength, but through profound vision and innate wisdom.
And this gift was never confined to one race alone—it was a divine rarity, crossing every boundary."
The Goblin's voice wavered, breaking like a sorrowful echo against the walls of old memory:
> "Even we… goblins… were once like humans. We thought, we dreamed, we hoped, we loved with sincerity—and yes, we betrayed, too."
But on a fateful day, as if the cosmos itself decided to test the arrogance of creation, beings descended from the sky. They did not belong to that world, or any known world.
They were wrought of nightmares, distorted beauty, tempting with unblinking eyes and golden promises that gleamed like curses disguised as gifts.
> "They came from an unknown dimension. They offered us a bargain:
'Give us this power you bear, and we shall grant you eternal supremacy over all other races.'
Some of our elders laughed, tempted by greed… but the Chosen were wiser. They refused the trap."
Many races without the Chosen—without those rare gifts—flocked to the side of the mysterious outsiders, blind to the monstrous design behind their honeyed words.
Painful silence filled the vision…
The Chosen answered the strangers with deliberate deceit:
> "We need more time to consider."
When the outsiders left, something terrifying happened.
Time itself went silent.
The pulse of the cosmos ceased.
As though some unseen hand of iron had strangled their sacred vision. For the first time in thousands of years, they faced an empty void—mute, unyielding, devoid of whisper or omen.
> "In that dreadful moment, we knew—there was a danger words could not contain."
The wisest of the Chosen gathered. They summoned something never used since the first dawn: the Hidden Echo of the World.
In a single, unparalleled moment of history, all the Chosen from every race across every realm convened together. That meeting became known as the Great Decision.
They debated for days and nights, without sleep, without rest.
And in the end, they united their sacred power toward one purpose.
When their forces merged, they saw the future—and the world trembled with fear.
> "We saw the cursed Tower in our visions.
And we saw something else—deeper, darker.
A living evil dwelling at the Tower's core, biding its time."
Distrusting all but a few, they resolved to hide the full truth. Instead, they sought to forge hope—one final chance.
> "We poured all our wisdom,
All our ancient magic,
All our sacred secrets,
Into a single book.
A book that would choose its own bearer."
A book that could withstand the weight of all their power combined.
They spent lifetimes of pure life force to create it, draining themselves to the last breath. And then they cast it into the fissures of distant universes, leaving it to chance—or fate—or something beyond naming.
Its name was never spoken. A symbol only, a sacred resonance of a language lost before it was ever written.
> "And thus… anyone who bears even a spark of that vision—
Is known as one of the Chosen."
---
Back to the Present
Saman was overwhelmed, as though he had inhaled the very smoke of creation.
The Goblin's yellow eyes glowed in the flickering dark:
> "Now you understand, Saman.
You carry that sacred spark in your blood.
That is why you hear me so clearly… why you perceive what others cannot."
Time froze like a river turned to ice.
> "The Tower will discover your true nature soon enough… and when it does, it will hunt you without mercy."
"You bear the blood of the Chosen. And in the days ahead, you must become the shield for the one who carries the legacy of the lost world…"
Slowly, the Goblin removed a pendant from his neck—a round talisman of unknown metal, etched with a strange rune resembling (ф). He extended it toward Saman with trembling hands, as if offering the weight of centuries.
> "Take it, and guard it well. When you reach the higher floors, you will find me again. Do not trust the Tower, or anything within it. Trust only this: that we shall meet again. Live strong."
Then, in a whisper nearly lost to silence:
> "Mystery… is a bottomless sea.
The deeper you dive, the more it pulls you into darker depths."
The Goblin's body began to dissolve, like white smoke slipping from the heart of a forgotten tale. His scarred, battle-hardened frame vanished piece by piece, until only his face lingered—fangs, flat nose, and those golden, glowing eyes—before fading forever.
As if he had never been.
As if it had all been a dream unfinished.
Silence pressed in. Then—
Ding… Ding…
Floor Eight successfully cleared.
Calculating player performance…
Double reward ×2 obtained.
Goblin Leader's Pendant (Common grade).
New skill acquired: Lightning Speed.
Mental capacity increased.
Player level up.
Spiritual strength enhanced.
Ding… Ding…
Congratulations: Your hidden bloodline powers have awakened…!
And Saman stood alone, lips trembling with shock, whispering inwardly through the storm of voices and unanswered questions:
> "The universe asks the most intricate questions…
And the answers are born within our fragile, fleeting minds."
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— End of Chapter Seventeen —