Regression of the Tower's Final Survivor-Chapter 32: Return to the Climb

The portal dropped him back into the sunken city with the familiar lurch of dimensional transit, and Dante stepped out of the shimmering gateway with his hand already on his blade.

He scanned his surroundings immediately, half expecting to find enemies waiting, but the portal chamber was empty except for the usual Tower Authority attendants who nodded at his credentials and waved him through without comment.

The walk back to their camp took longer than he remembered because the air corridors of Floor 8 twisted and reformed with the slow patience of underwater currents, and some of the landmarks he memorized shifted in his absence. But he found the path eventually, following the sense memory of walking these routes a hundred times in a life that no longer existed.

He heard Ravenna before he saw her, her voice carrying through the stone corridors with an urgency that made him quicken his pace.

"He’s back. I can feel him." She appeared around a corner a moment later, running toward him with an expression that mixed relief and reproach in equal measure.

"Three days," she said, coming to a stop just short of collision, her chest heaving slightly from the sprint. "You said three days. It’s been four."

"I know, and I’m sorry." He reached out and touched her arm, steadying both of them. "Things got complicated."

"Complicated how?" Astrid appeared behind Ravenna, moving with the casual grace of someone who trained hard in his absence as she looked him up and down critically. "You look like you haven’t slept."

"I haven’t, not much." He let Ravenna take his pack, let Astrid steer him toward their camp, let himself be cared for in a way that still felt strange after years of self-reliance. "Earth is in more danger than I realized. The Cult is further along than they should be."

"The Obsidian Cult," Ravenna said as they reached the familiar alcove, setting his pack down near the supplies. "The ones who worship the Archon."

"They’re preparing something called the Black Surge, coordinated dimensional breaches across multiple locations." He dropped onto a crate and rubbed his eyes, trying to focus past the exhaustion. "In my original timeline, it happened about a year from now. But based on what I found, they’ve accelerated the timeline. Weeks instead of months."

Astrid dropped onto a crate across from him, her expression grim as she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. "Can we stop it from here?"

"Maybe, if I climb fast enough and get strong enough, I might be able to prevent it before it starts." He sat down heavily, exhaustion finally catching up with him. "But first, we need to finish this floor. The dungeon, the Drowned King, all of it."

"We’ve been scouting while you were gone." Ravenna moved to sit beside him, close enough that her warmth seeped into his side as she pulled out a rough map she sketched during his absence. "The entrance is where you said it would be. We’ve mapped the approaches and identified possible ambush points."

"Any contact with Adrian’s people?" He took the map and studied it, noting the details she added.

"A few, and they’ve been asking about you." Astrid’s voice carried an edge as she crossed her arms. "Subtle stuff, but it’s clear they’re trying to figure out where you went and why."

"Let them wonder." He set the map aside and closed his eyes for a moment, letting the familiar sounds of the sunken city wash over him: the distant rush of water, the faint hum of whatever magic kept the air corridors stable, and underneath it all, the pulse of dimensional energy that permeated every floor of the Tower.

"How’s your sister?" Ravenna’s question was soft, careful, her hand finding his in the dim light.

"She’s good, training hard." He opened his eyes and squeezed her hand. "I gave her a communication crystal, in case anything happens while we’re up here. She knows about the regression now. Everything."

"You told her?" Ravenna’s eyebrows rose with surprise.

"I told you, I told Astrid." He shrugged, though the gesture felt heavier than it should. "Seemed wrong to keep lying to the only family I have left."

Ravenna was quiet for a moment, then she leaned her head against his shoulder in a gesture that said more than words could.

"I wish I could have met her, your sister."

"You will, eventually, when this is all over." He put an arm around her and pulled her closer. "She’s going to love you. Fair warning, she’s also going to give you the most intense interrogation you’ve ever experienced. That’s just how she is."

"I can handle intense." Ravenna smiled against his shoulder. "I handle you, don’t I?"

Astrid made a sound of disgust from across the camp and stood abruptly. "If you two are done being adorable, some of us would like to plan the dungeon assault."

"Jealous?" He raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smirk.

"Focused, unlike some people." But there was no real heat in her voice, and when he looked at her, he caught the edge of a smile she was trying to hide. "So. The Drowned King. You said it killed half your party in the original timeline. What do we need to know?"

He straightened and shifted into the mindset of tactical planning, the exhaustion still there but something he could push through. He pushed through worse.

"The Drowned King is an undead sea monarch who ruled this city before it sank, or maybe after, depending on which legends you believe." He drew a rough map in the dust between them, sketching the dungeon layout from memory. "He controls water within a significant radius and can summon spectral minions from anyone who died in the flooded sections of the floor."

"So... a lot of minions." Astrid’s jaw tightened as she studied the map.

"Potentially hundreds, but they’re weak individually, more about overwhelming numbers than actual threat." He pointed to the central chamber. "The real danger is the King himself. He’s fast for something that’s been dead for millennia, and his trident can impale you from twenty meters away."

"Weaknesses?" Astrid leaned forward, studying the map like it held the secrets to victory.

"Fire, which is where Ravenna comes in." He nodded toward her. "Your Hellfire should be particularly effective. The key is getting close enough to use it without being drowned first."

Astrid cracked her knuckles, a grin spreading across her face. "And my job?"

"Tank the minions and keep them off Ravenna while she works on the King." He looked at both of them, seeing the determination in their eyes. "I’ll be the finisher. Once Ravenna’s weakened him enough, I’ll get in close and end it."

"Sounds simple." Astrid’s grin widened, though they all knew better.

"It never is." He stood, pushing through the exhaustion with practiced ease. "We move at dawn. Get some rest while you can."

Ravenna rose and stopped him before he could walk away, her hand catching his wrist. "And you? You need rest more than either of us."

"I’ll sleep when we’ve cleared the dungeon." He turned to face her, not pulling away from her grip.

"That’s a terrible answer." Her eyes searched his face, concern evident in every line of her expression.

"It’s an honest one." He cupped her face in his hands, a gesture that felt more natural now than it did weeks ago. "I spent three days worrying about Earth, about Yuki, about everything that could go wrong while I was up here. I’ll rest when I know we’re safe."

She looked at him with an expression that mixed frustration with understanding, then she stood on tiptoe and kissed him, soft and quick.

"Then at least eat something." She pushed him toward the food supplies with both hands on his chest. "You’re no good to anyone if you collapse before we reach the dungeon."

He let her push him toward the food supplies, let Astrid mock him for being whipped, let the normalcy of their interactions wash away some of the darkness that accumulated during his time on Earth.

Tomorrow, they would face the Drowned King, but tonight he had people who cared about him, and that was worth more than any power the Tower could offer.

---

They prepared through the night, and sleep never came despite his exhaustion.

Weapons sharpened. Supplies organized. Emergency contingencies discussed and discarded and discussed again. Astrid paced like a caged animal, her berserker energy barely contained, while Ravenna practiced channeling her Hellfire in the confined space, the black-edged flames reflecting off the ancient stone.

He watched them both, these women who chose to follow him into darkness, and wondered what he did to deserve their loyalty.

’Nothing, you’ve done nothing to deserve them, you just got lucky.’ But maybe luck was enough, maybe the universe owed him something after taking everything in the first timeline.

Or maybe this was just temporary, a reprieve before the next disaster, but he pushed those thoughts away and focused on the task at hand.

The Drowned King was waiting, and one way or another, by sunset tomorrow they would be ready for the next floor.