The door opened into a huge hall.
Before them stretched a staircase. Marble, snow-white, shining in the dim light from somewhere above. The steps were perfectly smooth, polished to a mirror shine. Each was numbered in gold—1, 2, 3, 4... ascending, ascending, ascending into the darkness, where the staircase disappeared.
The hero looked at the sign by the first step:
"Stairway of Continuity. 1000 steps. The rule is simple: don't stop. Not for a second. Stop and you'll return to the start. Keep your pace constant. Good luck."
"Only a thousand steps?" Medusa looked up, trying to discern the end. "Not that many."
"Too easy," Yuki added suspiciously. Her tails twitched nervously. "Something's wrong." Dolor silently approached the first step. He stepped onto it. Nothing happened. He climbed the second, third, fourth. He stopped.
A second.
Dolor staggered. Lost his balance. He fell.
But not down. His body was jerked backwards, as if an invisible force had grabbed him and thrown him. He tumbled down the steps—quickly, crashing, hitting each one. Four steps down in a second.
Dolor collapsed at the foot of the stairs, breathing heavily, clutching his ribs.
"Got it," he croaked. "We can't stop."
The hero helped him up.
"Then we must go constantly. Without stopping."
"A thousand steps without stopping," Medusa frowned. "It's... doable. But difficult."
"Let's try," the hero stepped onto the first step.
They began to climb. Slowly, evenly. Step. Another step. Another. The pace was calm, comfortable. The hero counted: 10, 20, 30, 40...
At the hundredth step, they still felt good. Their breathing was even, their legs didn't tire.
"Maybe it really is just that?" Yuki suggested.
At the two hundredth step, their legs began to tire. Their calves burned slightly. But nothing serious.
At the three hundredth, the hero stumbled.
His foot slipped on the smooth marble—it was perfectly polished, and a bead of sweat made it slippery. The hero waved his arms, maintaining his balance. He almost stopped.
Medusa grabbed his hand and held him back.
"Careful!"
They continued. But now each step demanded attention. The marble was dangerously smooth.
At the four hundredth step, the first skeleton appeared.
It lay to the side, leaning against an invisible wall. The bones were white and clean. The skull faced the stairs, its empty eye sockets staring upward.
"The one who couldn't," Medusa whispered.
They passed by. There were more skeletons on the five hundredth step. Dozens. Sitting, lying, frozen in poses of despair.
And then it began.
Whispers.
Quiet, barely audible. Coming from everywhere and nowhere.
Stop...
The hero shuddered and looked around. No one. Only a voice.
Rest... just a second... one second...
"You hear it too?" Yuki asked.
"Yes," Medusa replied. "Ignore it. Keep going."
They walked. Five hundred ten, five hundred twenty, five hundred thirty.
The whispers grew louder.
Tired? Do your legs hurt? Stop. No one will know. A second of rest. Just one.
The hero gritted his teeth. His legs really did hurt. His calves burned, his thighs trembled with exhaustion. But he kept going. One step. Another.
At the six-hundredth step, ghosts appeared.
Transparent figures blocking the way. They stood on the steps, holding out their hands.
"Stop... join us..."
The hero passed through one. A chill pierced his body, but he didn't stop. Medusa, Yuki, and Dolor followed him.
The ghosts grew in number. Dozens, hundreds. They grabbed at her clothes, pulled her back, whispered in her ears.
Stop-e-e...
At the seven-hundredth step, Yuki tripped.
Her leg twisted, and she fell to her knee. For a second. Just a second.
An invisible force yanked her back.
"NO!" Medusa screamed, grabbing her arm.
But the force was stronger. Yuki was torn from his grip. She tumbled down the steps, tumbling. Impact, impact, impact—bones crunched, blood spattered across the white marble.
Seven hundred steps down.
Her body collapsed at the foot of the stairs. Not moving.
"YUKI!" the hero turned around.
"DON'T STOP!" Dolor shouted, pushing him forward.
The hero took a step. He continued climbing. His heart pounded. He heard Yuki groan below—alive. Broken, but alive.
"She will rise again," Medusa said, but her voice trembled. "Keep going. We must reach it."
Seven hundred and ten, seven hundred and twenty, seven hundred and thirty.
Each step became harder. Her legs shook. Her lungs burned. Sweat poured into her eyes, making the marble even more slippery.
At the eight-hundredth, Medusa fell.
Her legs simply couldn't take it. She collapsed forward, tried to get up, but a second passed.
She was torn backward. Eight hundred steps, tumbling. Screams echoed off the walls. The hero heard every blow, every crunch of bone.
Then silence.
"Go on," Dolor croaked. "Don't stop."
They walked together. Eight hundred and fifty, nine hundred.
The hero could barely stand. His entire body was one continuous pain. His muscles refused to obey. But he walked. Step after step.
Nine hundred and fifty.
The ghosts screamed in his ears, grabbing, pulling. The whispers became deafening.
STOP! DIE HERE! SURRENDER!
Nine hundred and ninety.
Dolor fell.
The enormous warrior, who had endured millennia of suffering, simply couldn't take it anymore. His legs gave way, and he collapsed.
An invisible force tore him down. Nine hundred and ninety steps. The hero heard every blow. Dolor didn't scream. Only the sound of breaking bones.
Silence.
The hero was alone.
Nine hundred and ninety-one, nine hundred and ninety-two, nine hundred and ninety-three.
His legs wouldn't obey him. He fell forward, caught himself, took a step. Falling again. Step. Falling. Step.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine.
One step. The last one.
The hero stood, swaying. He saw it—the thousandth step. The golden number glowed: 1000.
Stop, the voice whispered. You've done it. Nine hundred and ninety-nine. Almost there. Rest for a second. Catch your breath. Then you'll take the last step.
The temptation was unbearable. Every cell screamed: stop, rest, even for a moment.
But the hero stepped forward. The thousandth step.
He stood on it. His legs buckled, and he fell to his knees.
A second passed.
An invisible force tugged.
A thousand steps down.
The hero tumbled, hitting the marble. Bones broke—ribs, arms, legs. His skull cracked. Blood gushed from his mouth, nose, ears.
He died on the four hundredth step. His neck broke from the impact.
Resurrection.
Three seconds.
His body recovered. The hero lay at the foot of the stairs, breathing heavily. The phantom pain from the thousand blows pulsed in every bone.
Medusa, Yuki, and Dolor lay nearby. All alive. All broken.
"Damn," Yuki breathed. "That was... terrible."
"The thousandth step counts too," the hero croaked. "We can't stop even there." "Then we need to step further," Medusa said. "To the thousand and first."
"Which doesn't exist," Dolor added, looking up.
They rose. Slowly, painfully. Their bodies were intact, but the memory of pain remained.
"One more time," said the hero.
They began again.
Second attempt. Medusa fell at the six-hundredth. Yuki at the seven-hundredth. Dolor at the eight-hundredth. The hero reached nine-hundred and fifty and fell.
A thousand steps down. Death. Resurrection. Phantom pain.
Third attempt. The hero fell at the five-hundredth. He was so tired that his legs simply gave out.
Fourth attempt. Dolor reached nine-hundredth. He fell.
Fifth attempt, sixth, seventh.
They died again and again. Each fall broke bones, shattered skulls, tore at their insides. Each time—resurrection and phantom pain.
On the tenth attempt, Medusa burst into tears.
"I can't," she sobbed, sitting at the foot. "I can't anymore. Every time I die. Every time I fall. It's endless."
The hero hugged her.
"You can. We can. Together."
"How? How can we reach the end if we can't stop even at the thousandth?"
"We need to step further," the hero repeated. "Right away. Without pause. At the thousandth—and straight ahead, into the void."
"This is madness."
"This entire dungeon is madness," Yuki stood up. "But we can handle it. We'll get through this, too."
Dolor nodded silently.
Eleventh attempt.
They walked together. Supporting each other. When someone stumbled, others held them. When their legs gave way, they grabbed their arms.
Three hundred, four hundred, five hundred.
Yuki fell. She was torn down.
The three continued.
Six hundred, seven hundred, eight hundred.
Medusa couldn't take it anymore. Her legs gave way. She fell.
The Hero and Dolor remained.
Nine hundred, nine hundred fifty, nine hundred ninety.
Dolor held on with all his might. His face was gray, his lips blue. But he kept going.
Nine hundred ninety-nine.
The thousandth step before them.
"Don't stop," Dolor croaked. "Step forward, and straight ahead."
They took a step simultaneously.
The thousandth step.
And straight ahead. Into the void. Where the thousandth step should have been.
The Hero felt himself falling. The darkness engulfed him. But instead of hitting the stones, there was light.
He fell to the floor. Soft, warm. He opened his eyes.
A corridor. A typical dungeon corridor.
Dolor fell next to him. He was breathing heavily, but unharmed.
"We... made it?" the hero asked.
"Yes," Dolor stood up. "We made it."
Medusa and Yuki appeared behind them. They teleported as soon as the hero and Dolor reached their destination.
Medusa rushed to the hero and hugged him.
"You did it!"
Yuki fell to the floor, her tails spread out.
"Never again..." she croaked. "No more stairs. Never again."
The hero laughed. Wearily, hysterically.
"I agree."
They lay on the corridor floor, breathing heavily. Their bodies were intact, but the phantom pain of eleven deaths pulsed through their bones, muscles, and skin. "How many times did we die there?" Medusa asked.
"I didn't count," the hero replied. "Too many."
"Eleven attempts," Dolor said. "Each ended in death. Except the last one."
"Eleven deaths in one staircase," Yuki closed her eyes. "Excellent. Simply excellent."
The hero looked back. The door they'd entered through had disappeared. The staircase was gone.
"A test of perseverance," he muttered. "To never give up. Even after dozens of deaths."
"We didn't give up," Medusa pressed herself against him. "We made it to the end."
"Yes," the hero hugged her. "We made it."
Medusa laid her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around him. The snakes on her head calmed, hissing softly.
Yuki raised her head. Her golden eyes narrowed. Her seven tails twitched nervously.
"Hey," she called sharply. "Maybe we should stop hugging? We've all died here, by the way."
Medusa didn't open her eyes.
"Are you jealous, fox?"
"I'm not jealous!" Yuki's tails whipped up. "It's just... it's not fair. I fell too. I died too."
"So you're jealous," Medusa smiled contentedly.
Yuki jumped to her feet. She walked up to the hero and stared him down. Her ears were flattened, her tails fluffed out.
"D-don't think I need your attention, idiot," she muttered, turning away. "It's just... I tried too. Besides, I lasted the longest after you and Dolor. I fell at seven hundred, and Medusa at six hundred!"
"That's true," the hero agreed, holding out his free hand. "Come here."
Yuki froze. She looked at his outstretched hand, then at Medusa, still resting on his chest.
"I... I don't need..."
"Yuki," the hero called softly. "Come here."
The kitsune gave in. She sat down next to him and took his hand. She pressed her side against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Her tails curled around his leg.
"Only because I'm tired," she muttered. "Not because of you."
Medusa giggled.
"Of course, fox. Of course."
"Shut up, snake."
The hero hugged them both. Medusa on the left, Yuki on the right. Dolor sat a little distance away, silently watching. A faint smile flickered across his lips.
"A harem," Yuki whispered. "You literally have a harem."
"You're not complaining," Medusa replied.
"I..." Yuki fell silent. Then she sighed. "No. I'm not complaining."
They lay like that for several minutes. Silence, warmth, closeness. After the horror of the stairs, it was like a balm on wounds.
Then Yuki muttered,
"But if you hug only her one more time, I'll add your head to the collection."
"Joking," she added quickly. "I guess."
The hero laughed. Wearily, but sincerely.
"Understood. I'll share the hugs fairly."
Medusa snorted.
"What a gentleman."
Dolor stood up, extended his hand. The hero took it, and rose. He helped Medusa and Yuki up.
"How many more floors?" Yuki asked, brushing off her kimono.
"I don't know," the hero replied. "But we'll get there. All the way to the top."
"Even if I have to die a thousand more times?" Medusa looked at him.
The hero smiled.
"Even if I have to die a million times."
Yuki snorted.
"Idiot. A romantic, stubborn idiot."
But she took his hand. Medusa took the other. Dolor stood behind her, a silent guard.
"And yes," Yuki added quietly, "next time I'll take your hand first. Not Medusa."
"Try it, fox," Medusa replied defiantly.
"I'll try."
The hero shook his head, smiling. Two jealous, dangerous women on either side. The God of Suffering at his back.
A strange command. But his.
They moved down the corridor. Away from the stairs, to the next floor.