The air inside the tower grew heavier with every step they took. Even for Dragonborns, it pressed against their lungs like molten lead.

Erend could feel the thick, dense, and unnatural air.

"If not for our Dragonborn lungs," he thought grimly, "my lungs would've already collapsed long ago. This isn't air any human should breathe."

"Something inside this tower is waiting for us," Krono said, his voice low and edged with tension. His teeth were clenched and his aura flickered faintly around him like restrained lightning.

Aesa glanced at him. "You still can't use your power?"

Krono shook his head sharply.

"No." His answer came out more like a growl than a word. The reminder of his obscured strength made his jaw tighten. Rage boiled beneath his calm surface, but somehow he managed to keep his composure.

"Then we keep moving?" Eccar asked.

"That's the only way to go." Krono turned without hesitation and started toward the spiral stairs. He lifted his hand slightly. "Don't fly. If this place hides traps I don't want us triggering them all at once."

The others nodded silently. None of them argued. They all felt the same oppressive malice saturating the air.

They began their ascent, their footsteps steady and quick but cautious. The stairs were carved from the same black stone as the walls and veins of glowing red light pulsed faintly within them like liquid blood flowing.

Erend ran his fingers along the surface as they climbed. The veins felt warm to the touch. The light inside shifted, moving sluggishly like thick coagulated blood.

The sensation crawled up his skin, and he withdrew his hand with a quiet grimace.

"That's not just rocks. It's something else. Is this tower might be alive?"

He tried to focus and try searching for any trace of his System's guidance again. But it remained silent. No notifications or Quests. Nothing.

"Why now?" he wondered. "Is it broken or just waiting for the right moment to give me something?"

The uncertainty gnawed at him. He chose to keep it to himself because he didn't want to spread even more worry when they were already walking through a place that felt more like a living creature than a normal tower.

After what felt like an hour they reached the second floor. Though it was likely only a few dozen meters above the ground.

The staircase opened into a vast chamber, its ceiling lost in shadows. There was no way up from here even though they knew that this tower should have more.

At the center of the room stood a high-backed chair of massive carved black stone that pulsed with certain power like the rest of the tower.

And on that chair sat something.

It was not a person or creature with clear shape. It was a mass of flesh. Shapeless, glistening, but somehow still alive.

The thing pulsed and squirmed as if trying to mold itself into a form but failing. Veins of red light ran through its body, connecting it to the floor and the walls.

The Dragonborns stopped at once. The Magic radiating from the thing was staggering. It was old and immense.

Aesa narrowed her eyes. "That's…."

Eccar clenched his fists. "What the hell is that supposed to be?"

Erend didn't say anything because he also didn't have the answer. He could feel its Magic reaching out like tendrils brushing against his mind. Whatever it was, it wasn't just sitting there. It was aware of them.

Then the flesh moved.

It shifted and reshaped itself slightly as if trying to look at them.

And a low, guttural sound echoed through the room, like the first whisper of something awakening.

"You… came…"

The voice rippled through the chamber. It sounds wet, broken, and heavy with pain.

The sound didn't come from a mouth but from everywhere at once, vibrating through the walls.

The Dragonborns froze. The voice came again, clearer this time, each word dragging.

"You… came… to end… my suffering…"

Krono's jaw tightened. He stepped forward without hesitation, his fist clenching so tightly that golden sparks cracked from his knuckles.

The glow of his aura flared faintly around him.

"Krono wait!" Aesa's voice cut through the silence. "Don't be rash. Let's see what it is first."

But Krono didn't seem to hear her. His eyes burned with fury and disgust, his focus locked entirely on the squirming mass of flesh before them.

Erend and Eccar exchanged quick glances before following him up.

The flesh shuddered again. Its surface was bubbling like boiling tar.

When it spoke next, its voice carried a strange resonance that dug into their minds more than their ears.

"Dragonborns… you came… to end… my suffering…"

Krono stopped in his tracks. The anger that filled his chest faltered, replaced by shock and confusion.

"Suffering?" he muttered under his breath. "What do you mean? Aren't you the one causing all this?"

The mass pulsed and the air quivered with the echo of its next words.

"No… I… was being… used…"

The words slithered through the air. The tower itself seemed to hum louder, as if reacting to its confession.

Erend's eyes narrowed. "Used? By who?"

The thing trembled again and convulsed violently. Red veins flared brighter along its body, and a faint shape tried to form but immediately broke apart again.

"I… was a king… a ruler in this world… before… Zerathul… came in…"

The chamber fell silent. Every Dragonborn froze.

"Zerathul?" Krono repeated slowly, his voice dark with disbelief. The moment he spoke the name, the air itself seemed to tighten.

A pulse of unseen force rolled through the room and brushed their skin.

Erend's instincts screamed. The name wasn't just a word, it carried some kind of power.

Eccar's brow furrowed deeply.

Aesa frowned as well. "Zerathul… who is that?"

The mass stirred again, and for a brief instant, they could feel its despair.

"The one… who brought… the plague… the undead… he came… from the stars…"

Its words broke into wet rasping gasps as if every syllable tore it apart from the inside. The veins on its surface began to bulge, glowing brighter.

Krono stepped forward again, expression dark and voice trembling with restrained fury. "Where is he now?"

The creature convulsed violently. "He… never left…"

—