TJ and Dawn closed ranks, positioning themselves on either side of Joe like a couple of no-nonsense bodyguards. Their tension was palpable, humming in the air like an overloaded circuit. Joe appreciated the solidarity, even if he wasn’t sure how much good it would do against Andras, the tower’s ultimate suck-up, and the ever-menacing Lich.

  After Joe’s not so subtle challenge directed at the Lich, he’d braced for a sharp comeback —or an immediate death threat—but the bastard just stared. His empty sockets boring into Joe like they were trying to peel him apart layer by layer.

  Andras stood there with his arms crossed and his chin angled up. He looked exactly like the kind of guy who reminded the teacher about homework when everyone else wanted to forget.

  The worst part? They both looked satisfied. Too satisfied. Like they were in on some private joke and Joe was the punchline. It gave him flashbacks to Mr. Strickland’s class, where he’d gotten detention just for existing while the golden boy smirked from his desk.

  Notifications blinked at the edge of Joe’s vision, but he ignored them. He couldn’t afford any distractions with Andras spreading his charismatic aura like a bad case of ‘the clap.’

  The Lich’s empty eye sockets seemed to expand, pulling Joe’s gaze into the void. The temperature dropped.

  Joe shivered.

  “What’s the matter, Ascender 50? Feeling cold, or did someone from your past life step on your grave?” The Lich’s voice curled around the room like a sharp, bitter wind, making TJ and Dawn stiffen.

  Brian and Rose edged closer, drawing Ryan and his group into a loose semicircle.

  Andras let out a high-pitched titter, clutching his sides like he’d just heard the world’s funniest joke. His floppy hair fell over one eye, failing to hide the hatred oozing from every pore of his smug face. His fake grin stretched wider as he flicked his hand in a lazy gesture, signaling his alliance to close ranks around him.

  Low, eerie, and off-key, music twisted through the air, the mangled notes of Silence is Golden played like a broken music box. Joe’s gut clenched. It was the kind of soundtrack you got in a horror movie just before the big scare.

  No one survives in horror movies, whispered a voice in his mind.

  Joe pushed the thought away. He locked eyes with the Lich, refusing to look away, as if to say You’re already dead, ascender. Back on Earth, you were buried and forgotten.

  What happens next time I die? The question buzzed like static in Joe’s brain.

  “Nothing. A great big nothing, chump!” Halcyon’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, unexpectedly steady. “So let’s make sure that doesn’t happen, because I, for one, don’t plan on joining you for another dirt nap.”

  For once, Halcyon’s tone wasn’t mocking. It was almost...fatherly. The shift jolted Joe out of his anxiety, and he focused again on the Lich, heat spreading through his chest like a defiant ember.

  A disturbance rippled through the crowd of ascenders. Grumbles turned to sharp snarls as the room parted, making way for someone—or something. Heavy boots pounded against the floor, the vibrations tickling his feet.

  A dwarf stomped into view, his coal-black eyes locked on Andras like twin anvils about to drop. His long, braided beard was streaked with blood, smeared across his round face in a crude mimicry of the Time Hacker’s clown mask. Blood dripped from his cheeks, darkening the red of his beard. The dwarf licked his lips, ignoring the gore as he advanced.

  “Who’s that gruesome bastard?” TJ leaned toward Joe.

  Brian answered, his voice low. “Leader of the Merry Miners. I thought he looked familiar, so I checked the faction list.”

  Dawn’s grin flashed like a blade. “Good news. He looks mighty pissed at his old buddy Andras.”

  Joe nodded, tension in his shoulders easing.

  Brian gave a quick glance at Ryan. “There’s more good news Joe. I checked the alliance chat during your staring match with the Lich. Grizzle’s on his way back from the alchemy station.”

  Rose perked up, gripping her staff. “He found a cure?”

  Brian hesitated, which told Joe the news wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. But before he could press for details, Andras’ voice cut through the tension. The eerie music vanished, making Joe wonder if it was some sneaky bard skill.

  Andras pulled a pristine white cloth from his inventory and waved it at the dwarf like a patronizing teacher. “Wipe that ridiculous mask off your face. You look absurd. Let’s not waste any more of the Lich’s time and move on to the fifth floor.”

  With a thick, meaty hand, the dwarf snatched the cloth from Andras, balling it up in his bloody fingers. The slick red stains from the tower’s walls smeared over the white fabric, turning it into a gory mess. Over his shoulder, his faction emerged from the crowd—a squad of four other dwarves, all just as intimidating. Their faces were streaked with blood, the whites of their teeth gleaming against the rage etched into their eyes.

  Joe suppressed a whistle. These guys looked like they belonged in a metal album cover, not a tower climb.

  The leader didn’t hesitate. He hurled the blood-soaked cloth straight at Andras, who made zero effort to dodge or catch it. It hit him square in the chest, sliding down in a limp, wet heap at his feet. The floor rippled, almost as if the tower itself recoiled from the insult.

  “Save your mana, Andras. You’re wasting charisma on the likes of me and my men.” The dwarf’s gravelly voice grated in Joe’s ears. If words could punch, Andras would be down for the count.

  Andras’ smile didn’t waver, but his eyes hardened. He stepped on the bloody cloth like it offended his delicate sensibilities. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice smooth. “I don’t need magic to influence people—only common sense and a willingness to help those less fortunate than me to ascend the tower.” He leaned in like he was sharing a secret. “You really should be more grateful.”

  Joe expected the dwarf to lose it, maybe swing a punch, but instead, the guy grinned. Not a friendly grin either—this was the grin of a man who enjoyed breaking things. He let out a laugh that could’ve knocked down walls, clutching his round belly like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. His men joined, their Beavis and Butthead snickers echoing like a chorus filled with maniacs.

  “You’re a comedian, you know that?” The dwarf wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye. “We owe you less than nothing, Andras. We only stuck around because we enjoyed fucking things up and getting nasty.”

  Joe arched a brow as the other dwarves picked up the chant like they were in some crazed cult.

  “Nasty. Nasty. Nasty.”

  Joe exchanged a quick look with TJ, who mouthed, What the hell?

  The dwarf raised a hand, and the chanting stopped. His coal-black eyes locked onto Andras, and for the first time, it looked like the bard might actually squirm.

  “You’re as fake as this Lich and his tower of lies,” the dwarf growled. “Everything here? Illusions and smoke. You don’t even believe your own garbage.”

  Andras smoothed his floppy hair with a casual sweep of his hand. “Your trust is misplaced if you listen to the Time Hacker.”

  The dwarf barked a short laugh. “Trust? I trust no one but my men. Maybe the Time Hacker’s lying, maybe not. But he said one thing that makes sense. ‘Open your eyes.’”

  Andras glared.

  His silence fueled the dwarf’s savage grin. “But you go ahead, Andras. You and your followers go on your merry way and sleepwalk up to the next floor. Follow your Lich like a good little puppet. Not me. Not my men.”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Joe almost liked the guy. Sure, he looked like he’d just crawled out of a horror movie, but anyone who could make Andras sweat…

  The dwarf leaned in closer, his mocking tone cranked to eleven. “We’ll go where we please, when we please, and do what we please.” He mimicked Andras’ posh voice so perfectly, Joe almost laughed out loud.

  Dawn nudged Joe with her elbow, her fiery hair bouncing as she whispered, “If he wasn’t such a sick, twisted SOB, this dwarf would be my new favorite person.”

  Joe grinned despite himself. For once, someone was giving Andras exactly what he deserved. Yet the Lich’s silence loomed, a dark cloud over the exchange. Joe couldn’t shake the feeling that they were all still playing into the tower’s hands.

  A familiar face appeared over Andras' shoulder—Otto, his right-hand man, wagging a finger like a scolding parent. Only problem? His target was a dwarf with brows so bushy they looked like caterpillars mid-brawl.

  The dwarf sneered. "Otto, you wanker, keep waving that finger, and I'll shove it so far up your hole you'll be choking on it!"

  Otto’s hand clasped the other in front of him and his shoulders dropped. His enthusiasm for the gesture evaporated.

  The outburst seemed to break the tension. Other ascenders started voicing their frustrations.

  "You promised us so much, Andras, but all we’ve got is mana sickness and a dwindling group!"

  “That’s mana sickness for you.” Andras brushed nonexistent dust off his shoulder. “There’s only so much I can do. Look at the effort I’ve put into eternity sticks—given freely to those in need. You’d all be lost without me. Time will tell if you’re making the right choice.” His words oozed with fake sincerity.

  Another voice cut through the crowd. "It’s all fearmongering! You’re controlling us like puppets! I want my respawn token back!"

  Andras’ thin brows snapped together, his gaze darting toward the fifth-floor exit. "Why bite the hand that feeds you?” He gestured to the crowd, a protective circle of green hooded loyalists forming around him. He still had his followers, but their numbers were thinning.

  A dwarf wearing a blood-red mask snorted. Splotches of tower blood streaked his orange hoodie like war paint. "We’re not being fed anything but a pack of lies, Andras!"

  The Merry Miners’ leader chimed in, his voice gravelly and mocking. “Tick-tock, tick-tock. Or, better yet—you can suck my cock.” He grabbed his crotch and made an exaggerated gesture, earning jeers and laughs from his faction.

  Andras sighed, packs of eternity sticks appearing in his hands. He waved them towards the weaker-looking ascenders. "Mana poisoning clouds judgment. These will help clear your heads." His voice dipped into that unnervingly persuasive tone.

  A kobold ascender scoffed, stepping forward. "You’re not the only one peddling wares anymore." He tapped his copper-scaled temple. "My fraternity sticks? Better quality, no dependence, and no creepy sales pitch."

  "They make me fart like a demon, but it’s worth it," added a kobold companion, trying to help.

  A sharp jab from the first kobold shut him up.

  Joe exchanged a wary glance with his group. Ryan, standing next to Gaia, looked equally on edge. Gaia wasn’t saying much, but the fire in her eyes was unmistakable—she’d tear apart anyone who so much as looked at Ryan or Luna wrong. Poor Luna, though. She looked like a shell of her former self, drained and quiet.

  TJ leaned closer to Joe, his voice low. "Feels like we’re seconds away from a brawl. I hate this kind of tension."

  For once, Joe agreed with him. If a fight broke out, it would be chaos. They could protect a few ascenders, but not all of them.

  On the screen, the Lich tilted his head, watching the escalating tension with the curiosity of someone binge-watching a soap opera. His skeletal grin radiated sadistic delight. Joe half-expected Sue Ellen to throw a whiskey glass at J.R., but this wasn’t TV. It was real life—and it was about to go downhill fast.

  A panicked voice rose from the crowd. "I’m on borrowed time! I heard the ascender who cut a hole in the tower wall went missing!"

  “They’re GORED,” Andras said sharply. “And you will be, too, if you don’t come to your senses and head to the fifth floor.”

  “You lie!” The panic grew louder. “They didn’t get GORED—they escaped! The tower bleeds like us. It can die, and I’m not sticking around when it happens!”

  Andras blew a sharp whistle on his flute, silencing the chaos. "You can’t seriously believe that! If you attack the tower, you damn us all!"

  But the damage was done. An ascender wielding a knife moved toward the fleshy wall, determination in his eyes. Joe tensed. This guy is going to do something stupid.

  Andras turned on the charisma again, his voice smooth as silk. "I wouldn’t do that if I were you."

  The ascender hesitated, his blade wavering in his grip.

  The leader of the Merry Miners snarled. "Cut the charisma crap, Andras. It wastes our energy resisting it." He gestured to his faction. "We’re not playing your game. Go your way; we’ll go ours."

  At that moment, Grizzle appeared at the entrance, startling the knife-wielding ascender. His hesitation broke, and he slashed at the throbbing, vein-webbed wall.

  The Lich didn’t lift a single bony finger to stop the chaos. He simply stood there, grim fascination etched across his skeletal features. It was like watching a sadistic teacher relish the moment their students realized a "group project" meant only one person was doing all the work—and it wasn’t them.

  Grizzle made a move to pull the knife-wielding ascender away from the throbbing wall, but Gaia blocked him with a shield spell, her tone cutting like a blade. "You want your eyeballs scooped out? Because that’s exactly what’ll happen if you get too close."

  Grizzle hesitated, looking more surprised than offended. Without another word, Gaia grabbed his arm and steered him toward Ryan and the group. He opened his mouth to protest but shut it when more ascenders surged forward, knives in hand, hacking at the fleshy wall with reckless frenzy.

  Joe’s gut churned as blood pooled at their feet, thickening into congealed, gelatinous blobs. It clung to their boots like some unholy pudding, and the attackers suddenly froze, realization dawning. They were stuck.

  The Lich finally spoke, cupping his bony hand where his ear should’ve been. His raspy voice sliced through the rising panic. "Does anyone hear that sound?"

  Joe strained to listen. At first, all he could hear was the muffled chaos of panicked voices. Then it hit—a low, wet sound, cartoonishly comical.

  Blep. Blep. Blep.

  His Quick Wit activated automatically, honing in on the source. Near the oozing wound, blood blisters were forming—swelling grotesquely before popping with a sickening squelch.

  A notification flickered in his vision. He almost dismissed it, but the sender’s name stopped him cold.

  Poke_Master: You can’t stop it. And guess what? It’s coming now.

  Joe’s breath caught in his throat. The sound of the blisters popping had drawn curious ascenders. A few tried to help those stuck in the blood jelly, but it was no use. Others—dumber ones—moved to poke the blisters.

  Dawn snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. "Don’t act dumber than you look! You’re about to lose a hand if you touch that."

  One ascender sneered, ignoring her. He poked a blister anyway—and immediately shrieked as blood spurted from the stump where his hand used to be.

  "My hand! G-give it back!" he wailed, clutching his bleeding arm.

  Joe locked his gaze on the wall, watching in horror as the man’s severed hand vanished behind a jagged set of bear-sized teeth emerging from the blister.

  Tower defense mechanism. Of course.

  The sight of the bloody stump waving around like a horror movie prop was enough to trigger a mass exodus. Ascenders poured toward the corridor, scrambling for the elevators like rats fleeing a sinking ship.

  Joe opened the party chat:

  Joe: This is only the beginning. Tower defenses are waking up. We need to flank Ryan and Luna. Stay sharp. The elevators are going to be packed. Be ready to fight if you can’t run.

  By the time Joe and his group made it to the corridor, the wall behind them had transformed into a waking nightmare. Hulking figures were taking shape, pressing out of the flesh as if the nightmares had been given bodies. Limbs snaked out, ending in claws sharper than daggers. A grotesque head formed, its empty eyes locking onto the trapped ascenders.

  Someone lashed out with a blade. It might as well have been a butter knife against steel. The fleshy arms gripped the nearest ascender by the shoulders, tearing his limbs off with a sickening rip. Blood sprayed like a gory fountain, and Joe fought the urge to gag.

  He turned away, forcing himself to focus. They had to run. They couldn’t save everyone, but they could save Luna and Ryan. Dawn met his gaze, her expression mirroring his own grim determination.

  The group formed up, Ryan and Luna at the center, and sprinted for the corridor. Hordes of ascenders were piling into the elevators. All except one, who was flung to the ground by his so-called allies.

  "You’re dead weight, ratling. Scram!" Someone snarled as the elevator doors slammed shut, leaving him trembling with other weaker ascenders cowering in the dim light.

  The corridor stretched out before him, the elevator seeming further and further away.

  Joe pushed past a group of ascenders, throwing a glance over his shoulder. He expected the flesh guardians to give chase, but the corridor remained eerily empty.

  "Get your asses to the elevators!" TJ yelled at a group of ascenders standing frozen with weapons drawn.

  They didn’t move, their eyes wide with terror.

  Light spilled from the elevator as its doors opened again, revealing an empty car. Nearby ascenders rushed in, cramming themselves into the small box. But then Joe caught a scent—sour and metallic, like rotting meat. He turned back, scanning for the source.

  The monstrous guardian appeared, its grotesque limbs tearing through the corridor as it charged toward them.

  Gaia cast a spell, but it ricocheted off the creature’s slick, fleshy skin.

  "It’s speeding up!" Joe shouted.

  The guardian’s jaw unhinged, its gaping maw dripping with thick, oozing saliva.

  "What the hell is it doing?" an ascender yelled, frozen in place.

  TJ roared. "Hold the elevator!"

  Joe grabbed the lone ratfolk to his feet ready to fling him into the elevator along with them.

  But the ascenders inside the elevator had already hit the button, their terror overriding any sense of unity. The doors slammed shut, leaving Joe and the rest of the ascenders to fend for themselves.

  "Fuckity fuck fuck. Mean people suck!" Rose spun her staff. Needlepoint thorns sprouted around its base, readying a water barrier to buy them time.

  Joe’s gaze darted to Dawn as the elevator lights dimmed.

  What the hell do we do now?