The world dissolved into gold.
Not the blinding surge that had overtaken Danny during his dragon transformation, but something quieter—soft, warm, steady. When the brightness dimmed, Danny stood on smooth white stone that stretched into a horizon made of nothing.
Floor 999.
The top of the tower.
It was… peaceful.
Not triumphant.
Not sacred.
Just still.
Danny shifted, massive draconic wings folding in. His talons clicked lightly against the stone. The air hummed with a sound like a memory—distant, ancient, almost like the breath of something that used to be alive.
He inhaled.
And the tower inhaled with him.
His golden scales, though not yet fully set, reflected the soft light that permeated every direction. He expected some sort of grand guardian—some colossal beast of creation—or a final enemy forged by destruction.
Instead, there was only silence.
The kind of silence that wasn't empty, but waiting.
A Floor Not Meant to Harm
Danny stepped carefully. His dragon form, though powerful, was still new. Every motion felt like being inside a body too wise for him. But it responded intuitively, wings balancing him, tail trailing gently.
Each footfall sent faint ripples across the floor, as though the tower were listening.
"Is this it…?" Danny murmured.
It wasn't disappointment. It was confusion.
He had expected another fight. Another impossible enemy. Another trial painted in violence like so many others. But Floor 999 offered no challenge of strength.
Instead…
Visions bloomed around him.
Not illusions.
Not dreams.
Reflections.
Planets forming—magma seas cooling into continents.
Stars being born—gas clouds swirling into brilliance.
Forests blooming—animals emerging from instinct into community.
Life blossoming.
Then—
Fire storms.
Collapsing suns.
Earthquakes cracking realities.
Civilizations fighting.
Worlds forgetting how to grow.
Life twisting into monsters.
Creation unraveling under its own weight.
Danny's chest tightened.
The visions weren't linear. They weren't a story.
They were a cycle.
Creation building.
Destruction clearing.
Creation renewing.
Destruction ending.
Not enemies.
Not rivals.
Just opposite halves of the same breath.
"But… people don't see it that way," Danny whispered.
He watched a vision of a star collapsing into nothing.
He watched a vision of that same star's dust forming a new nebula.
He exhaled softly.
"Creation doesn't exist to stop destruction. And destruction… doesn't always exist to hurt."
He didn't understand everything.
He didn't have the answers.
But he had seen enough to know:
There is balance.
And the Golden Dragons had once lost sight of that balance.
Danny, still young, still human-hearted, felt something they never could:
Hope.
The Final Guardian
The visions dimmed.
A shape rose from the center of the floor—as though a shadow chose to become substance.
It formed into a humanoid guardian, elegant and perfectly symmetrical, its body made of white stone intertwined with threads of shifting darkness.
Its eyes glowed with no color at all—pure neutrality.
When it spoke, the voice echoed from every direction.
"Climber."
Danny straightened, golden wings rustling.
"Uh… hey."
"You have reached the end of the tower," the guardian said calmly. "But not the end of your journey."
"I figured." Danny lowered into a semi-defensive stance, claws flexing. "You gonna fight me?"
"Yes."
A long pause.
"But not to test your power."
The guardian spread its arms.
"To test your understanding."
Danny blinked.
"Oh. That's worse."
The guardian rushed forward.
A Battle of Reflection
Its movements were smooth—precise, balanced, impossible to predict yet strangely familiar. Danny realized quickly:
It was mimicking him.
Not his dragon form alone—
his decisions.
His hesitations.
His compassion.
Every time he struck with aggression, the guardian countered effortlessly.
Every time he restrained himself, the guardian accelerated.
It was reading him.
Testing not what he could do, but why.
Danny ducked under a sweeping arm, using a controlled burst of golden flame to propel upward. The guardian leapt after him, matching the flame's trajectory with ease.
They collided midair.
Danny twisted, slamming the guardian into the stone. The impact rippled across the entire floor, but the guardian rolled gracefully and rose without damage.
"You do not fight to dominate," the guardian observed.
"You fight to protect."
Danny panted lightly. "Yeah. That's… my thing."
"This is why you succeeded."
The guardian pressed its palms together.
"And why you are not yet ready."
Then it attacked with blinding speed.
Danny blocked. Barely.
A flurry of strikes forced him backward, each one matching a flaw Danny hadn't noticed: hesitation in his shoulder rotation, a micro-delay in his footwork, the instinct to hold back when he sensed he might cause real harm.
"Creation must grow," the guardian said with each strike.
"Destruction must prune."
"Both must exist."
Danny roared, fire bursting from his jaws.
The guardian moved through the flame unharmed, placing a hand on Danny's snout.
"Fear not the end.
Fear stagnation."
Danny pushed through the firestorm, slamming his forehead into the guardian's chest. Light exploded outward. The guardian staggered.
Danny lunged.
Creation surged.
Destruction retreated.
But the guardian whispered:
"It is not a war."
Danny froze inches from striking the final blow.
He lowered his claw.
And the guardian smiled—not with pride, but with relief.
"You understand enough for today."
Then it bowed…
…and shattered into light.
Floor 999 trembled.
Not from collapse—
from closure.
Danny had reached the summit.
He had passed.
Tower Purified
Golden fire rippled across the floor.
Danny's presence, still radiating creation energy, stitched cracked runes together across the entire tower. Far below, floors once marked by Dar'kan's corruption glowed clean for the first time in decades.
Guardians awakened in orderly sequences.
Constructs repaired themselves.
The tower exhaled—
a long, ancient, tired sound.
It was whole again.
Danny felt it all.
Not as a ruler or chosen one—just as someone who cared.
He smiled softly.
"You're welcome."
A doorway appeared before him—shimmering with prismatic energy. Not a test gate. A passage.
And beyond it…
The roar of thousands of voices.
Return to the Convergence Arena
Danny shrank back to humanoid form—the tower instinctively guiding him, ensuring he wouldn't accidentally crush the doorway. Golden scales faded into skin, wings folded away, though faint golden lines still pulsed beneath his arms.
He stepped through the gate.
The world erupted into noise.
A massive amphitheater stretched out before him, filled with fighters, spectators, holographic screens, and floating platforms.
He had returned to the Tournament's Convergence Arena—where the top competitors gathered.
Danny took a step forward.
Eyes turned.
Whispers rose.
"Is that him?"
"The golden climber…"
"Top floor…"
"He purged the corruption…"
"Is he even human?"
Danny ignored it. His gaze scanned the room.
Swift waved with his usual confident grin.
Jake gave a relieved nod.
Jade Killington tilted his head like Danny had just walked out of a bloody hurricane.
Shadeclaw watched from a high beam, unreadable.
Wolf Queen rested against a pillar, quiet, assessing.
Sedge Hat… sat drinking tea, perfectly at ease.
But Danny felt another presence.
A familiar one.
He turned—
And saw the Wolf King standing across the arena.
Alive.
Recovered.
Silent.
A mountain of muscle and malice and regal fury.
Not eliminated.
Not defeated.
Just waiting.
Their eyes locked.
No hate.
No murder intent.
Just inevitability.
The Wolf King gave a slow nod.
Danny returned it.
One day, the final battle between them would decide the tournament.
But not today.
The Bracket Announcement
The sky dome above flickered.
A gigantic holographic face appeared—
Julian Breadstone, the arena announcer, hair windswept and eyes far too excited.
"LADIES, GENTLEWOLVES, DRAGONS, CONSTRUCTS, BOTS, AND BUDDIES OF ALL DIMENSIONS—WELCOME TO THE TOP 500!"
The crowd roared.
Julian grinned as if fueled by caffeine, sugar, and pure chaos.
"THE TOWER RUN IS OVER!
AND NOW—
THE REAL TOURNAMENT BEGINS!"
Twenty colossal screens lit up.
TOP 500 QUALIFIERS — VERIFIED
BRACKET PHASE INITIATED
Julian raised both hands dramatically.
"Twenty brackets!
Twenty-five fighters each!
Only ONE winner per bracket advances!"
Swift elbowed Danny.
"Try not to embarrass us."
Jake groaned.
"I just wanted a nap…"
Jade cracked his neck.
"'Bout bloody time."
Sedge Hat sipped tea. A shadow flickered behind his eyes—something dark Danny didn't notice yet.
The Wolf King simply crossed his arms.
Julian continued:
"And by fortune or fate, our top climbers are all in separate brackets! That means…" He pointed toward Danny and the Wolf King, grinning like a madman.
"…your long-awaited showdown might just happen in the FINAL ROUND!"
The arena roared.
Danny found himself smiling too.
This was where he belonged.
Not at the top of a lonely tower…
…but among fighters who challenged him to grow.
The screens finished loading.
Danny watched his bracket light up.
He rolled his shoulders.
His golden aura flared softly.
"Okay," he whispered.
"Let's do this."