The Celestial Tower was vast enough to hold galaxies inside its walls, yet somehow, one floor felt colder than the rest. Not physically—no ice rimed the walls, and no frost bit the air. The cold here was a quiet one, a hush that pressed on the ears and pulled shadows inward.
Floor 27 had manifested as a dim labyrinth of drifting paper charms—thin sheets covered in strange sigils—floating like ghosts suspended in the air. Some charms glowed with warnings. Others hissed with curses. Fighters entering the chamber retraced their steps immediately or vanished through safety sigils, preferring shame to risk.
Julian Breadstone floated above the arena, shuddering visibly.
"OHOHOH—NO THANK YOU! THE SHADOW FLOOR! THE WHISPER FLOOR! THE ABSOLUTELY NOTFLOOR! Whatever you call it, viewers at home, I call it MY LEAST FAVORITE PLACE IN EXISTENCE!"
The camera runes flickered, shifting focus.
A figure entered the floor.
Julian screamed in delight.
"WHOOOAAAA! LISTEN UP, MY LITTLE STARDUST SPROUTS—WE HAVE ANOTHER NEW CONTESTANT! A RARE ONE! A SCARY ONE! ONE I NEVER MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH!"
The figure drifted through the hanging charms, boots silent, cloak moving with a mind of its own.
Whisperbound Eira.
Her name was spoken in low tones and fewer syllables. She was small—barely taller than Magic Kid—with skin like pale moonstone and hair that floated as if underwater. Her cloak was stitched from pages of forgotten spells, each one whispering as she moved. The voices were always quiet. Never clear. Never coherent.
The floating charms drifted toward her—hungry. Curious.
She lifted a single finger.
The charms stopped.
Every floating page on the floor froze.
Then rotated.
Then bowed.
Jake, far below, shivered. "What was that?"
Swift looked uneasy. "Some kind of psychic resonance."
Sedge Hat sighed dreamily. "Ah yes, the Whisperbound. Dangerous. Powerful. Occasionally explode if startled too much!"
Jake choked. "Explode?!"
"Oh ho, not HER—her enemies!"
Inside the chamber, three fighters prepared for ambush.
A towering brute made of rusted gears.
A slim assassin coated in smoke.
A serpentine mage whose spells crackled in runic arcs.
They hid behind drifting charms, confident their movements were invisible in the gloom.
Eira did not look at them.
She did not need to.
Her cloak whispered.
The words were inaudible—
fragments from forgotten spells,
half-voices of ancients,
echoes of thoughts never meant to be heard.
The charms swayed, rearranged, then parted before her.
Julian whispered dramatically (and unnecessarily loudly):
"Ohhhhhh, she's doing the THING. She's doing the thing where she pretends to be harmless and then REMOVES PEOPLE FROM EXISTENCE—metaphorically, of course! Permanent death is forbidden!"
The gear-brute lunged first, swinging an arm the size of a tree trunk.
A hanging charm drifted between him and Eira.
A soft glow.
A slight shudder.
He stopped midstrike.
Frozen.
Not magically. Not physically.
But mentally.
His eyes darted.
His breath hitched.
His limbs locked.
Eira didn't even look at him.
She brushed her hand along the charm's edge.
The gear-brute flew backward as though struck by a cosmic hammer—
slamming into a safety sigil and vanishing with a metallic grunt.
Julian threw confetti into the air.
"OUT OF BOUNDS! OUT OF OPTIONS! OUT OF LUCK!"
The assassin struck next, emerging from smoke and shadows in a whirlwind of blades.
She vanished.
Literally.
Mid-lunge, her smoke collapsed inward, pulling her body back into a personal safety pocket formed by a panic-trigger charm she had accidentally activated in her haste.
Julian howled.
"OH MY GOODNESS—SHE TELEPORTED HERSELF OUT OF THE FLOOR! FOLKS, THAT'S WHAT WE CALL A SELF-EJECTION!"
Eira continued walking.
She said nothing.
The mage attempted something more elaborate—
a rune-wave spiraling outward, meant to disrupt Eira's cloak.
He miscalculated.
The charm nearest him rotated.
His spell rebounded.
The rune-wave struck him square in the chest.
He yelped, flailing as he was rocketed out of the labyrinth in a burst of his own magic.
Julian clapped loudly.
"STUNNING! FLAWLESS! A MASTERCLASS OF NONINTERACTION!"
Eira reached the center of the floor.
The charms gathered around her like a spiral of flying pages, forming an enormous sigil that pulsed rhythmically, almost like a heartbeat.
She placed a hand on one page.
The whispering stopped.
For one second—
The entire tower seemed to hold its breath.
Even the Wolf King paused his ascent.
Even Danny felt it from his chamber, a faint tingle of something strange—something subtle yet powerful—moving through the tower's structure.
Then the sigil folded open like a door.
Eira stepped through without hesitation.
The floor's exit had revealed itself only to her.
Julian spread his arms dramatically.
"AND THERE SHE GOES! WHISPERBOUND EIRA, EVERYONE! A TOP-CONTENDER FOR SURE! SILENT! ELEGANT! TERRIFYING! EVERYTHING I ADMIRE IN A PERSON EXCEPT THE SILENT PART!"
Floor 28 greeted her with a swarm of floating runic spheres that zapped intruders. Fighters dodged wildly, forming temporary alliances just to get through.
Eira drifted into the room.
The spheres charged.
She exhaled softly.
Whispers flowed from her cloak.
And every sphere turned away.
Just… turned around.
Like obedient pets.
Some drifted aside.
Some floated upward.
Some formed a protective circle around her.
Julian lost his breath.
"I—HER MERE BREATHE MADE THE ORBS CHANGE TARGETS! WHO DOES THAT?! WHO BREATHES THAT POWERFULLY?!"
Magic Kid yelled from another floor, "MY MOM DOES!"
Eira glided through the room with the spheres gently orbiting her. They protected her from projectiles meant for other fighters and even zapped a few approaching enemies, though nonlethally.
A fighter tried to steal the advantage by grabbing one sphere.
It shocked him unconscious.
Julian cackled.
"PLAY STUPID GAMES, WIN ELECTRIC PRIZES!"
On Floor 29, instead of combat, a test of knowledge awaited.
Floating books.
Animated puzzles.
Runic locks.
Questions written in languages older than universes.
Most fighters panicked.
One warrior screamed, "I DIDN'T SIGN UP TO TAKE A TEST!"
Another shouted, "WHO PUT HOMEWORK IN THE TOURNAMENT?!"
Julian yelled unhelpfully, "I CAN'T READ!"
Eira raised her hand.
Every piece of floating text rearranged itself around her.
The pages turned.
The runes glowed.
The puzzles solved themselves.
The door opened instantly.
Julian wheezed.
"HER POWER LEVEL IS 'HONOR STUDENT.' TERRIFYING!"
Floor 30 was a maze of illusions. Fighters lost track of up, down, left, right, self, and sometimes species. People wandered in circles chasing false versions of themselves. One fighter believed he had become a chicken temporarily.
Eira stepped inside.
Illusions flickered.
Mirrors twisted.
Nothing fooled her.
Her shadow split into three copies—
silent versions of herself that walked ahead, mapping false paths so she didn't have to.
When the illusions tried to warp her surroundings—
they broke against her mind like waves on stone.
She moved with quiet certainty.
Past mirror traps.
Past false exits.
Past spectral guardians.
Until the murmuring illusions parted, bowing to someone they could not deceive.
Julian raised both hands in triumph.
"I PRESENT TO YOU ALL—THE MOST TERRIFYING INTROVERT IN THE UNIVERSE!"
Crowds cheered.
Eira quietly reached Floor 31.
With Lira.
With Korvas.
With the Wolf King climbing far above.
With Swift and Jake gaining speed.
With Danny preparing to enter.
She looked upward at the endless climb.
She whispered.
The tower hummed in reply.
And she continued.