Leo clutches his fist tighter. His knuckles whiten as the ground beneath him begins to crumble. Spider-web cracks spread outward from where he stands, stone groaning under the pressure of his barely contained rage.
Dark aura pours from him.
Crimson light from the curse dances with it.
Shadow and blood-red malevolence intertwine along his arms in a twisted ballet.
Without warning, he crouches and launches himself with explosive force. The plaza floor shatters completely where he'd stood. Fragments fly as he rockets toward the gate.
If the tower won't let me in peacefully, then I'll force my way in.
Lost in the sea of murmurs and gasps from the crowd, a weathered adventurer sits quietly on one of the towering pillars. He surveys the unfolding chaos with knowing eyes. Scars crisscross his exposed arms, each one a story of battles survived. He watches Leo's trajectory and shakes his head slowly.
"Wrong move, kid," he mutters under his breath.
He leans back against the giant pillar once more, content to observe what he knows is coming.
Leo pulls back his fist mid-flight. Malevolent black mist swirls around it with terrible power. The air itself seems to recoil from the concentrated darkness, wisps of shadow trailing behind like the tail of a comet.
His target is clear.
He will shatter the barrier between him and his goals.
But then a commanding voice cracks through the air like thunder:
"Tower Bastion!"
The barrier materializes between Leo's fist and the band of tower guards. It blazes with divine radiance, intricate patterns of light racing across its surface.
Golden dome.
Instant.
Blinding.
One of the younger guards loses his footing entirely, dropping to his back at the sight of Leo's attack bearing down on them.
But behind them, steady as a mountain, stands their salvation.
A battle-scarred adventurer, now bearing the insignia of a World Tower Guard Captain, has driven his magnificent shield into the ground. The shield itself is a work of art. Ancient runes etched into celestial steel pulse with the same golden light as the barrier. His weathered face remains focused on one target only.
The intruder.
Leo.
The collision is catastrophic.
Leo's fist meets the golden barrier with a sound like the world breaking. The impact sends shockwaves rippling outward. Adventurers throughout the plaza scramble for cover. Those with quick reflexes duck behind pillars or dive to the ground. Mages hastily weave protective shields, their barriers flickering to life just in time to prevent themselves and others from being swept away by the clashing powers.
Leo pushes harder. He pours everything into breaking through. The black mist around his fist intensifies, pressing against the golden light with renewed fury.
Unstoppable force.
Immovable object.
Then comes the crack.
The guard captain's stoic expression falters. His eyes widen as a hairline fracture appears in his Tower Bastion. The impossible is happening. His legendary defensive skill is breaking. Sweat beads on his forehead as he pours more power into the barrier.
But then the point where Leo's fist presses against the barrier suddenly erupts. Blinding light. The radiance is absolute, turning the world white for one terrible instant. Expulsion. A force beyond comprehension seizes Leo and hurls him backward with terrifying power and speed.
He flies through the air like a discarded doll.
He becomes a blur of motion. In mere seconds, he's expelled not just from the gate, not just from the plaza, but from the entire area surrounding the World Tower.
The white cats that had been weaving through the crowd suddenly still.
Then fade.
Like morning mist, they cease to exist. As if they had never been there at all.
Ai, who had been standing calmly throughout the chaos, disappears too. Not in a flash of light or swirl of magic. She simply ceases to be, as if she had been nothing more than a ghost all along.
The explosion of light turns the world into a canvas of pure white brilliance. Those with weaker constitutions crumple where they stand, hands pressed desperately against their eyes. But a scattered few bear witness to the full spectacle of Leo's violent expulsion.
Veterans of countless battles.
Mages with enhanced perception.
They watch him become a streak across the sky, launched with such force that the air itself screams in his wake.
Then comes the wind.
Hurricane.
Chaos.
It bursts outward from the point of impact. Adventurers tumble like leaves, cloaks whipping, shields clattering across stone. Merchants' stalls overturn. Their wares scatter. The tempest rages for several heartbeats, each gust carrying the taste of raw magic and ozone.
Finally, mercifully, it settles.
When the adventurers dare open their eyes, they find themselves in a transformed world. Golden light pours from above like snowflakes. Each mote drifts lazily through the air before dissolving against skin and stone. The particles cast everything in a warm, ethereal glow.
Beautiful.
Haunting.
One by one, they struggle to their feet. A young mage helps an older warrior stand. A merchant gathers his scattered goods with trembling hands. The tower guards remain in formation, though several lean heavily on their spears. Their chests heave from the strain of maintaining their position against such force.
Movement draws their collective gaze upward.
The crimson light that had consumed the World Tower gate is retreating. It flows backward like a tide in reverse. The angry red bleeds away, replaced by the portal's natural state. A magnificent dance of myriad colors swirls like an infinity portal. Blues meld into greens, purples into golds. An eternal kaleidoscope that has welcomed adventurers for generations.
The transformation completes.
And portal hums with its usual inviting energy.
As if nothing had happened at all.
Silence.
Absolute.
Suffocating.
No one dares speak. No one dares move. The plaza that moments before had erupted in chaos now stands frozen. Hundreds of adventurers united in their confusion. Eyes dart between faces, searching for someone, anyone, who might explain what they'd just witnessed.
The golden snow continues to fall. Each flake a gentle reminder of the violence that birthed it.
Hidden in the deep shadows between two massive pillars, a figure observes the stunned crowd with calculating eyes. Her form-fitting black suit renders her nearly invisible in the darkness. Every line of her body speaks of lethal training. She'd seen everything. The curse. The expulsion. The mysterious disappearance of the system user who'd dared challenge the Tower itself.
With practiced efficiency, she reaches between her chest and withdraws a scroll. The parchment thrums with latent magic, eager to carry its message across impossible distances.
"The Queen must know of this immediately," she breathes. Her words barely disturb the air.
Without hesitation, she tears the scroll in half.
The magic activates, wrapping around her like a lover's embrace. Between one heartbeat and the next, she vanishes.
Magic.
Instant.
Gone.
Only the faintest rustle of wind marks her departure. A whisper lost in the greater silence that grips the plaza.
The golden snow continues to fall.
It coats the world in a deceptive peace that belies the storm that has just passed.