The Celestial Tower shifted again.
Floor 53 unfolded into a brutal arena of vertical pillars suspended over a bottomless void. Some pillars rotated. Some shook violently. Some slid along invisible rails. Others collapsed without warning. Mist drifted upward, cold and wet, obscuring depth perception.
Most fighters viewed this floor with fear.
A fall here meant instant ejection.
Julian Breadstone floated high above, wearing fingerless gloves and a championship belt that he absolutely never earned.
"WELCOME BACK, AUDIENCE OF ALL DIMENSIONS!
Prepare yourselves for raw power! Raw determination! Raw—well—raw EVERYTHING!"
Jimmy smirked.
"You're excited about this one."
"OF COURSE I AM! This next fighter is a treat! A treasure! A mountain disguised as a man!"
The camera runes swirled, zooming in on a massive figure clinging to a spinning pillar with only one hand while adjusting his grip with the other.
A giant of a man.
Broad as a doorframe.
Arms like coiled iron.
Scarred hands wrapped in thick leather.
Short, dark blond hair.
Eyes steady.
Expression calm.
No armor except cloth wrappings around his waist, legs, and forearms.
No weapon.
No magical aura.
Only strength.
The name hovering beside him flickered:
Garron Holt – Pit Grappler of the Iron Rings
Julian pumped both fists in the air.
"GARRON HOLT! A MAN WHOSE REFLEX TO SEEING A PROBLEM IS TO GRAB IT AND THROW IT ACROSS THE ROOM!"
Jimmy nodded.
"In the pit arenas, they say he once suplexed a charging rhinoceros."
Julian gasped.
"WHAT A KING."
Garron hauled himself up onto the platform, planting his feet with heavy certainty. The pillar beneath him wobbled violently, trying to throw him off.
Garron didn't wobble.
He bent the pillar slightly just by shifting his weight.
The pillar made a metallic groan of complaint.
Julian squeaked.
"He BULLIED a TOWER STRUCTURE!"
Jimmy sighed.
"And so it begins."
Three fighters leapt between pillars nearby—
a nimble dual-kick specialist,
a wind-walker dancer,
and a defensive shield-user.
They moved with grace, barely touching each pillar.
Garron did not move with grace.
He jumped.
And when Garron Holt jumped, the entire floor noticed.
He slammed down on the next pillar.
THUD.
The shockwave nearly threw two nearby fighters off.
"HEY—WATCH IT!" one yelled.
Garron blinked at them.
"Sorry."
Another pillar rotated to knock him sideways.
Garron grabbed it—
and stopped the rotation.
Stopped. It.
Julian screamed:
"HE JUST END-GAME-BOSSED A HAZARD!"
Jimmy muttered, "He's not climbing the tower… the tower is climbing him."
A mechanical construct burst from below—a spider-like tower guardian with rotating blades. It lunged at Garron, firing grappling hooks aimed to yank fighters off balance.
One hook snagged Garron's wrist.
The guardian's internal winch strained.
Nothing happened.
Garron slowly turned his head.
He tugged.
The entire guardian skidded across the pillar, dragging sparks.
Julian shrieked with joy.
"He is REELING IN THE MONSTER!"
Garron grabbed the guardian with both hands, lifted it overhead—
—and slammed it against the pillar.
The pillar cracked.
The guardian trembled.
He slammed it again.
And again.
Three hits.
The guardian fizzled and collapsed into dust.
Garron brushed his hands off.
"Annoying."
He continued climbing.
Further up the maze, four fighters were trapped on a tilting platform that kept rotating under their feet.
Garron landed beside them.
"Platform's stuck!" one shouted. "We can't stabilize it!"
Garron nodded as if this were normal.
He crouched.
Placed both hands on the platform's edge.
And pushed.
The entire slab of enchanted stone slowly rotated back into equilibrium, grinding loudly but obediently under Garron's strength.
The fighters stared.
Then scrambled off.
"Th-thank you, sir!"
Garron shrugged.
"Don't mention it."
Julian held his head in disbelief.
"THE MAN MANUALLY CORRECTED A TOWER ROTATION!"
Jimmy muttered, "That shouldn't even be physically possible."
Julian gasped.
"THAT'S WHY IT'S AMAZING!"
A flying construct swooped in next, launching stunning bolts.
Several fighters ducked.
Garron didn't.
As the construct swooped past, Garron reached out and snagged it by the frame.
It buzzed angrily, trying to lift him.
He pulled it down by brute force.
"Stop."
He smacked the construct lightly with the back of his hand.
It broke.
Julian cheered.
"HE PUNCHED A DRONE LIKE IT OWES HIM MONEY!"
Floor 53 had another danger:
the pillars reacted to weight distribution, shifting violently if more than one fighter stood on them.
Garron's weight alone caused one to wobble.
Two fighters leapt to the same pillar beside him.
The pillar shook.
One slipped.
Garron caught him by the ankle—casually—like catching a falling piece of laundry.
"Watch your footing."
He lifted the fighter up with one arm and placed him gently back on the pillar.
"Thanks!"
Another pillar collapsed suddenly, dropping a trio of fighters.
Garron didn't think.
He jumped off his pillar after them.
Julian shrieked. "HE LEAPT INTO A DEATH FALL WHAT IS HE—"
Garron caught one fighter mid-fall.
Snatched another by the belt.
Hooked a third with his leg.
Then twisted, using his momentum to grab a passing pillar edge with both hands.
The stone cracked under the force.
Garron hauled all four of them upward with raw muscle and placed them onto the nearest stable platform.
He dropped down beside them.
"You're safe. Go slow."
The rescued fighters couldn't even speak, lost in shock.
Julian pumped both arms.
"THE MAN JUST SAVED THREE PEOPLE AT ONCE USING BODYBUILDING AND ANGER MANAGEMENT!"
Jimmy added, "This is the kind of guy you want on your emergency response team."
But the tower was not done.
Near the top of the floor, the final guardian emerged—
a giant serpentine construct made of floating rings of metal, each ring spinning independently, creating shifting gaps that spat arcs of kinetic force.
Most fighters fled.
Garron squared his stance.
The serpent lunged.
Garron grabbed one of its rings mid-strike.
It spun, flinging him sideways.
He held on.
He growled.
"Stop."
He planted his feet.
Muscles bulged.
And the serpent's spin began to slow—
Slow—
SLOW—
Until Garron held it in place by brute strength alone.
The serpent screeched, energy surging.
Garron snarled back.
Then, with a single motion, he twisted—
—and wrenched the serpent apart.
The rings flew outward and shattered.
Silence.
Jimmy whispered, "That… was terrifying."
Julian levitated sideways in sheer awe.
"HE GRABBED A FLOOR GUARDIAN AND TORE IT APART LIKE OLD LAUNDRY."
Garron climbed the final pillar.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Hands chalked with dust.
Eyes steady.
Muscles tired—but steady.
He didn't roar in victory.
Didn't raise his fists.
Didn't even smile.
He simply nodded once.
And moved upward.
Julian turned dramatically to the audience.
"GARRON HOLT! A MAN WHO DOESN'T NEED MAGIC. DOESN'T NEED TECH. DOESN'T NEED A TEAM.
JUST A BODY MADE OF 'NOPE,' A HEART MADE OF 'TRY ME,'
AND THE PHYSICAL PRESSURE OF A COLLAPSING STAR!!!"
Jimmy added:
"He's everything a grounded fighter can be.
Strong.
Reliable.
Impossible to intimidate.
And somehow… gentle."
Garron made his way toward Floor 54—the next challenge waiting.
The tower braced itself.
Because some floors could break a fighter.
But Garron Holt was the kind of fighter who broke back.