The elevator to Floor 4 opened with the smell of machine oil and the sound of a thousand arguments.
Floor 4: The Library of Living Weapons was not a building. It was a chaotic canyon made of magnetic rock. Stuck to the walls, floating in the air, and resting on pedestals were millions of weapons. And they were all talking.
"I am the sharpest!" a Katana screamed from a high ledge.
"You're brittle trash!" a Warhammer shouted back. "Blunt force is the only truth!"
"Does this scabbard make me look fat?" a Dagger whispered anxiously to a Shield.
[SYSTEM ALERT: FLOOR 4 ENTERED]
[RULE: THE WEAPON CHOOSES THE WIELDER.]
[WARNING: REJECTED WEAPONS MAY ATTACK YOU OUT OF SPITE.]
"It's noisy," Rhea covered her ears. "It sounds like a Twitter thread made of steel."
"I need a weapon," Aryan said, stepping out. He still had the Chisel of Truth, but it was a tool, not a weapon of war. As a [Reality Architect], he needed something that could channel his edits.
"Go shopping," Aryan told the group. "But be careful. Don't insult the axes."
The Stove Finds Love
While Aryan scanned the legendary tier section, the Talking Stove (carried by the First Son) rumbled toward the "Kitchenware & Improvised Weapons" aisle.
"Pathetic," the Stove sneered at a rusty mace. "You call that a flange? I've seen better curves on a croissant."
Suddenly, the Stove stopped.
Floating on a velvet pillow in the center of the aisle was a spatula. But it wasn't just a spatula. It was made of Mithril, glowing with a faint blue aura, and its edge was serrated with diamond dust.
[ITEM: THE VORPAL SPATULA (LEGENDARY)]
Effect: +50% Flip Speed. Can separate meat from bone, or souls from bodies.
Personality: Aggressive Gordon.
"Hello, beautiful," the Stove rattled.
The Spatula vibrated. "DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW TO SEAR A STEAK, YOU CAST-IRON TUB?" it screamed in a British accent. "YOU LOOK LIKE YOU BURN WATER!"
The Stove gasped. "Such passion! Such abuse! I must have you!"
The Stove opened its grate. The Spatula flew into the Stove's inventory slot with a magnetic CLANG.
[SYSTEM: SYNC COMPLETE.]
[NEW SKILL UNLOCKED: CULINARY EXECUTION.]
"I am complete," the Stove declared. "I shall flip the world."
The Sword in the Stone (Sort of)
Aryan walked past rows of glowing swords. A Fire-Blade offered itself to him, but it was too hot. A Shadow-Scythe tried to bond with him, but it was too edgy ("I only listen to My Chemical Romance," it muttered).
Then, he saw it.
It sat on a pedestal of white marble in the corner, away from the other weapons. It was a Longsword with a hilt wrapped in golden leather and a pommel shaped like a crying lion. It radiated an immense, holy power.
[WEAPON: EXCALIBURN (MYTHIC)]
Damage: ∞ (Theoretically)
Sharpness: Absolute.
Special Trait: [Social Anxiety].
"Mythic," Aryan whispered. "That's the highest tier."
He walked up to the sword. He reached out his hand.
"Hey," Aryan said softly. "I'm Aryan. I'm a writer."
The sword trembled in its scabbard.
"D-don't look at me," a small, shaky voice echoed in Aryan's mind. "I haven't polished my cross-guard today. I look like a mess."
"You look great," Aryan lied (using a pinch of the 'First Lie' dust he still had). "You look like the King of Swords."
"Stop it!" the sword squeaked. "You're making me blush! I can't come out! The air is too cold! And what if I miss? Everyone will laugh at me!"
Aryan grabbed the hilt. "I won't let them laugh. Come on."
He pulled.
The sword didn't budge. The scabbard held on tight.
"NO!" Excaliburn screamed. "I'M NOT READY! I HAVE STAGE FRIGHT! LEAVE ME ALONE!"
"Aryan!" Mira shouted. "We have company!"
The Armor of Jealousy
From the pile of rejected rusty weapons rose a massive construct. It was a [Junk Golem] made of hundreds of broken swords, axes, and spears that hadn't been picked.
[BOSS: THE JEALOUS ARMORY (LVL 15)]
[MOTIVATION: SENPAI DIDN'T NOTICE ME.]
"WHY HIM?!" the Golem roared, its voice a grinding screech of metal. "WHY PICK THE PRETTY SWORD?! I HAVE CHARACTER! I HAVE RUST!"
The Golem swung a massive arm made of axes at Aryan.
Aryan dodged. He tried to draw Excaliburn.
"No, no, no! He's looking at me! He's judging my edge alignment!" the sword panicked, locking itself in the sheath.
"You are a Mythic Weapon!" Aryan shouted at the hilt. "Act like it!"
"I can't perform under pressure!" Excaliburn cried.
The Golem swung again. Aryan didn't have time to argue. He changed tactics.
"Fine!" Aryan yelled. "If you won't cut, you'll crush!"
He wielded Excaliburn Scabbard-and-All.
He swung the sheathed sword like a baseball bat.
WHACK.
The heavy scabbard slammed into the Golem's knee.
[BLUNT DAMAGE: 500!]
"Ow!" the sword complained. "That jarred my tang! Be gentle!"
"I'm fighting a trash monster!" Aryan gritted his teeth, dodging a spear-thrust. "Work with me here!"
The Therapy Session Combat
The fight was ridiculous. Aryan was dancing around a giant metal monster, beating it with a legendary sword that refused to be a sword.
BONK. (Aryan hit the Golem's head).
"I'm getting dizzy!" Excaliburn whined.
THWACK. (Aryan parried an axe).
"He scratched my leather! I'm ruined! I'm ugly!"
"You are beautiful!" Aryan shouted, ducking under a swing. "You are the sharpest thing in the universe! Believe in yourself!"
"You're just saying that!"
"I surrendered Peace for this quest!" Aryan roared, channeling his [Reality Architect] aura. "I don't have time for insecurity! I need you to be brave for one second! Just the tip! Just show me the tip!"
The Golem raised both fists for a crush attack. Aryan was cornered against a wall of magnets. He couldn't dodge.
"Excaliburn!" Aryan pleaded. "Please! If I die, you'll be stuck in a pile of rust forever! No one will ever polish you again!"
The threat of a rust-filled existence triggered something in the sword.
"N-no rust?" the sword whispered.
"NO RUST!" Aryan promised. "I will buy you the finest oil! I will give you a velvet pillow! Just cut!"
The Golem's fist came down.
"OKAY! BUT DON'T STARE!"
SHING.
For exactly 0.5 seconds, Excaliburn unsheathed itself.
A flash of light blinding enough to rival a supernova exploded in the canyon.
The blade wasn't steel; it was Solidified Plot Progression.
It sliced upward.
There was no resistance. The Golem's fists, arms, and torso were bisected cleanly. The cut continued, slicing the magnetic cliff behind them, and splitting a cloud in the sky above.
CLACK.
The sword slammed back into its sheath instantly.
"Okay, that's enough! I'm going back inside! I saw a speck of dust!"
The Golem stood still for a second. Then, it slowly slid apart into two perfect halves.
[BOSS DEFEATED.]
[WEAPON BONDED: EXCALIBURN.]
[NOTE: BOND LEVEL 1 (ACQUAINTANCE). YOU MUST BUY IT DINNER TO UNLOCK FULL POTENTIAL.]
The Loot and the Leaf
Aryan panted, holding the heavy, trembling sword.
"Did... did that sword just have a panic attack?" Sarah asked, lowering her wand.
"Yes," Aryan sighed, strapping the scabbard to his back. "But it cut a mountain in half. I guess it's worth the therapy bills."
Barnaby floated over. "I tried to bond with a Trident, but it said I lacked 'gripping appendages.' The discrimination in this tower is rampant."
Mira walked up to Aryan. She was holding a pair of beautiful, translucent daggers that looked like shards of glass.
"Twin Daggers," Mira said. "They don't talk. They just hum when I'm near you. I think they like you."
"Good," Aryan smiled. "At least someone's weapon is stable."
He looked at the elevator to Floor 5.
"We have a tank with a new leg, a stove with a vorpal spatula, a fish with disaster magic, and a sword with social anxiety," Aryan listed his assets. "I think we're ready for the next level."
[SYSTEM: FLOOR 4 CLEARED.]
[NEXT DESTINATION: FLOOR 5 - THE MARKET OF SOULS (PVP ZONE).]
"PvP?" Rhea asked. "Player vs Player?"
"It means we aren't fighting monsters anymore," Aryan said, his eyes narrowing. "We're fighting other people who are climbing the tower. People who want what we have."
The elevator doors opened. Inside, the air was red.