The Tower Beneath the Silence

The walk toward the forbidden tower felt longer than it should have been.

Every step echoed through the ruined city, not just in sound, but in feeling. The broken streets seemed to remember feet that once walked them freely—children running, people talking, life moving without fear.

Now, only tension remained.

Kemp walked at the front, his eyes fixed on the distant tower. The pull in his chest did not stop. It was not painful, but it was strong, like an invisible thread pulling him forward no matter how tired his body felt.

The tower stood taller than the rest of the ruins. Half of it had collapsed, but the remaining structure still reached upward, disappearing into darkness above. Old symbols were carved into its surface, worn down by time but not erased.

Serdihun walked beside Sarmon, her hand close to his arm, ready to support him if he weakened again.

Serdihun:
“Your breathing is getting worse.”

Sarmon replied quietly.

Sarmon:
“I will manage.”
(pause)
“We are close.”

Alir stayed near Birson, her eyes scanning the shadows between buildings. She felt watched—but not hunted. It was as if the city itself was observing them, judging their intentions.

Serdihun 2 stayed near George.

Serdihun 2:
“So…”
(pause)
“Just checking…”
(pause)
“We’re walking toward an ancient forbidden tower…”
(pause)
“…while a warden the size of a mountain is coming.”

George nodded.

George:
“Yep.”

Serdihun 2 sighed.

Serdihun 2:
“Just wanted to be sure.”

The survivors followed behind them, moving carefully but with purpose. For the first time in a long while, they were not hiding.

The leader walked near the back, her eyes never leaving the tower.

Leader:
“That place was sealed long before we were born.”
(pause)
“The elders used to tell stories.”
(pause)
“They said the tower listens.”

Kemp slowed slightly and glanced back.

Kemp:
“Listens to what?”

Leader:
“To promises.”
(pause)
“And lies.”

That made Kemp uneasy.

As they got closer, the ground beneath their feet changed. The stone became smoother, darker. The faint glowing crystals in the streets shone brighter here, lighting their path with soft blue and gold light.

Birson stopped suddenly.

Birson:
“…The seal line.”

Everyone froze.

Alir:
“What does that mean?”

Birson tapped the ground with his staff. A thin line of light appeared, stretching across the street like a boundary.

Birson:
“This is where the gods tried to end the city.”
(pause)
“They failed.”

Sarmon stepped forward.

Sarmon:
“This is dangerous ground.”
(pause)
“The prison’s rules are thin here.”

George cracked his neck.

George:
“Perfect.”
(pause)
“I hate rules anyway.”

Kemp took a step over the line.

Nothing exploded.

Nothing screamed.

Instead, the air changed.

The pressure he had felt before faded slightly.

Kemp:
“…It feels easier to breathe.”

Serdihun 2 followed him carefully.

Serdihun 2:
“You’re right.”
(pause)
“It’s like the world loosened its grip.”

One by one, everyone crossed.

The survivors gasped softly.

Leader:
“…We’ve never crossed this far.”

Ahead of them, the tower loomed close now. At its base was a massive stone door, cracked but sealed shut. Symbols covered it—circles, lines, and shapes that twisted when stared at for too long.

Sarmon approached the door and placed his hand near it, without touching.

Sarmon:
“These markings…”
(pause)
“They are older than the prison.”

Birson nodded.

Birson:
“Older than the gods who built it.”

Alir felt a chill.

Alir:
“Then what made this?”

No one answered immediately.

The ground trembled again.

This time, the tremor came with sound.

A deep, heavy step echoed through the city.

Thump.

Closer.

Thump.

Closer.

Serdihun 2 grabbed George’s sleeve.

Serdihun 2:
“It’s getting really close.”

George checked his guns.

George:
“Yeah.”
(pause)
“And I’m officially out of clever plans.”

The stone door began to glow faintly.

Kemp felt the pull intensify.

Kemp:
“It’s reacting to me.”

The leader stepped forward quickly.

Leader:
“If you open it…”
(pause)
“…there is no going back.”

Kemp turned to look at everyone.

He saw fear.

He saw exhaustion.

But he also saw trust.

Kemp:
“We already crossed that line.”

He placed his hand on the door.

The moment his skin touched stone—

The world went silent.

No footsteps.

No breathing.

No tremors.

Then—

The door spoke.

Not with sound, but with feeling.

A deep presence filled Kemp’s mind.

Ancient Voice (echoing):
“BRIDGE.”
(pause)
“WHY DO YOU RETURN?”

Kemp swallowed, his voice shaking but firm.

Kemp:
“I didn’t return.”
(pause)
“I arrived.”

The symbols flared brightly.

The voice paused.

Ancient Voice:
“THE PRISON STILL STANDS.”

Kemp:
“Not for long.”

Images flooded Kemp’s mind—chains, seals, broken worlds, people suffering quietly in darkness.

Kemp clenched his teeth.

Kemp:
“They deserve a choice.”

The door trembled.

Ancient Voice:
“CHOICE BRINGS RUIN.”

Kemp:
“So does control.”

Outside, the warden roared.

The sound was close enough to shake dust from the tower.

Serdihun shouted.

Serdihun:
“Kemp! It’s almost here!”

The ancient presence seemed to consider.

Ancient Voice:
“IF I OPEN…”
(pause)
“THE PRISON WILL KNOW.”

Kemp pressed his hand harder against the door.

Kemp:
“It already knows.”

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then—

Cracks of light spread across the door.

Stone groaned.

The symbols rearranged themselves.

The massive door began to open slowly.

A wave of warm air rushed out.

Inside was darkness—but not empty darkness.

It felt deep.

Alive.

The survivors stared in shock.

Leader:
“…The stories were true.”

George let out a low whistle.

George:
“Well.”
(pause)
“This just got bigger.”

The warden’s footsteps thundered nearby now.

Thump.

Thump.

Closer than ever.

Birson raised his staff.

Birson:
“We don’t have time.”

Sarmon drew his sword.

Sarmon:
“Inside.”
(pause)
“Now.”

They rushed through the opening just as a massive shadow appeared at the far end of the street.

The warden stepped into view.

It was enormous—its body formed from layered stone and glowing core-light, its face carved into a mask of authority and judgment.

It raised its head and roared.

The tower responded.

The door slammed shut behind the group.

The roar was cut off.

Silence returned.

Inside the tower, faint light revealed a vast chamber spiraling downward—stairs leading deep beneath the city.

Serdihun 2 stared down.

Serdihun 2:
“…How far does it go?”

The ancient voice whispered one last time.

Ancient Voice:
“TO THE PLACE WHERE THE PRISON WAS FIRST BETRAYED.”

Kemp took a steady breath.

Kemp:
“Then that’s where we’re going.”

They began descending into the tower.

Behind them, the warden struck the sealed door again and again.

But the tower did not break.

For the first time in ages—

Something stood against the prison.

And it had chosen Kemp to lead the way.