The deeper levels of the Tower of Myths felt increasingly unreal.
Entire stairways stretched infinitely upward before folding sideways into impossible angles. Massive chains connected floating continents drifting through cosmic darkness while glowing scripture moved across the walls like living things.
The tower was changing around them.
Or perhaps—
they were changing to perceive more of it.
Satre walked at the front of the group, golden magic flowing gently around her body while Gurter rested loosely at her side. Her future sight pulsed constantly now, showing fragments of ten possible futures stretching ten minutes ahead.
Most vanished almost instantly.
Some ended violently.
Others looped endlessly.
The higher they climbed, the less stable causality became.
"Left," Satre said calmly.
Immediately, Amelia grabbed Yura's shoulder and yanked her backward.
A split second later—
space collapsed where Yura had been standing.
The hallway folded inward silently before correcting itself again.
Yura exhaled softly.
"…I'm starting to hate this tower."
"You hated portals first," Amelia reminded her.
"I can hate multiple things."
Babylis walked quietly behind them, unusually silent for most of the ascent.
That alone unsettled Amelia.
The Fertility Goddess was always talking.
Always guiding.
Always subtly steering conversations.
But ever since entering the higher dimensional floors—
she had become cautious.
Like she was remembering this place rather than exploring it.
Then the tower shifted again.
The hallway ahead dissolved into floating fragments of stone suspended above an endless cosmic abyss. Massive books drifted through the darkness while ancient runes rotated slowly around broken pillars.
And sitting atop one of the floating ruins—
was a girl reading calmly.
Silver-black hair drifted softly around her while glowing dimensional equations spiraled lazily behind her body. She looked no older than nineteen.
But her eyes looked ancient.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Like someone who had watched too much disappear.
She slowly closed her book as the group approached.
"…Babylis."
Her voice was calm and scholarly, but exhaustion lingered beneath it.
Babylis offered a small smile.
"Still alive, Gramia?"
"Unfortunately."
Amelia immediately liked her a little.
Gramia's gaze slowly shifted across the group.
Yura.
Amelia.
Satre.
The moment her eyes settled on Satre—
they sharpened slightly.
"Future sight," Gramia observed quietly. "Ten timelines?"
Satre blinked once.
"…How did you know?"
"The fluctuations around your soul," Gramia answered simply. "Your ability is still developing."
Satre unconsciously tightened her grip around Gurter.
Gramia noticed immediately.
"And that sword…" Her eyes lingered briefly on the blade. "…dangerous."
Amelia smirked proudly.
"That's an understatement."
Satre sighed softly.
"It's not invincible."
"No," Gramia agreed calmly. "But a weapon capable of cutting according to intent is troublesome regardless."
Yura's eyes narrowed carefully.
"You know a lot for someone we just met."
Gramia looked toward the endless dimensional structures surrounding them.
"I've been inside the Tower of Myths for a long time."
The answer was simple.
Too simple.
Babylis finally stepped forward.
"Gramia is a Dimension Jumper."
Satre tilted her head slightly.
"I've heard of them…"
"We're spiritual beings," Gramia explained calmly. "We possess physical forms, but we aren't bound to them the same way mortals are. Traversing dimensional boundaries comes naturally to us."
Amelia crossed her arms.
"And you decided living inside this nightmare tower was a good idea?"
A faint smile appeared on Gramia's face.
"…Not originally."
For a moment, silence settled across the floating ruins.
Then Gramia stood slowly.
The dimensional equations behind her shifted instantly.
"The Tower of Myths isn't simply a training ground," she explained. "Each realm within it reflects the influence of the god governing that dimensional sector. No two towers are entirely identical."
Yura looked around carefully.
"So the tower changes depending on where you enter from."
"Yes."
Gramia raised one hand slightly.
Immediately, the floating books surrounding them opened on their own.
Images appeared across their pages.
Wars.
Beasts.
Gods.
Dimensions collapsing into one another.
"The tower itself is a dimensional hierarchy made manifest," Gramia continued. "Each higher layer possesses greater complexity, greater pressure, and greater instability than the one below it."
Amelia let out a low whistle.
"So basically the tower beats transcendence into you until your body adapts."
"…More or less."
Satre looked upward toward the endless darkness above them.
"And somewhere beyond all of this…"
"The World of Void," Gramia finished quietly.
Even saying its name changed the atmosphere.
The tower groaned softly around them.
Babylis looked away slightly.
Gramia noticed.
But said nothing.
Instead, she turned back toward the group.
"If you seek the Void, then climbing aimlessly will get you nowhere." Her expression sharpened faintly. "Many spend eternity ascending without ever finding the correct path."
Amelia frowned.
"That's reassuring."
"The tower tests more than strength," Gramia replied. "Direction matters. Intent matters."
Yura stepped forward slightly.
"And you know the path?"
Gramia hesitated briefly.
"…I know parts of it."
That answer felt honest.
Which made it trustworthy.
Satre's future sight flickered again.
Ten branching outcomes unfolded before her eyes.
In several—
Gramia stood beside them.
In others—
the tower burned.
She quietly exhaled.
For now…
none of the futures showed betrayal.
That was enough.
Amelia rested Duskpiercer against her shoulder.
"So what now?"
Gramia closed her floating book completely.
"Now," she said calmly, "you stop climbing like survivors and start climbing like contenders."
The tower trembled faintly beneath them.
Far above—
something ancient shifted within the higher layers.
Watching.
Waiting.
And somewhere beyond the endless dimensional hierarchy—
the path toward Shiro continued to narrow.