The elevator doors slid open with the sound of a heavy book slamming shut. THUD.
Floor 12: The Library of Silenced Screams was not a place of peace. It was a cathedral of judgment. The walls were lined with bookshelves that stretched up into an infinite, ink-black ceiling. But the books weren't resting on the shelves. They were flying.
Millions of books flapped their covers like bats, screeching through the air. And they weren't just screeching noise—they were screeching opinions.
"PLOT HOLE!" a dictionary screamed as it dive-bombed the First Son.
"LAZY WRITING!" a paperback yelled, slapping Rhea in the face.
"THE PACING IS TOO SLOW!" an encyclopedia groaned, moving sluggishly through the air.
[SYSTEM ALERT: FLOOR 12 ENTERED]
[ZONE: THE CRITIC'S LAIR]
[HAZARD: REALITY DECONSTRUCTION]
[WARNING: IF YOUR 'CHARACTER DEPTH' DROPS TO 0, YOU WILL BE RETCONNED.]
"Retconned?" Sarah asked, ducking under a flying romance novel. "What does that mean?"
"It means Retroactive Continuity," Aryan explained, his eyes scanning the chaotic room. "It means you won't just die. You will be erased from history. It will be as if you never existed at all."
"Charming," Barnaby noted from his jar. "I assume my character depth is infinite? I am, after all, a fish with a mecha-pilot license."
"Don't get cocky," Aryan warned. "The Critics feed on ego."
Suddenly, the flying books stopped. They hovered in mid-air, vibrating. A hush fell over the library.
From the center of the room, a pool of Red Ink began to boil. It rose up, forming a massive, humanoid shape. It wore a suit made of rejected manuscript pages. Its head was a giant, floating Red Eye with a monocle. In its hand, it held a massive Stamp.
[BOSS: THE CHIEF CRITIC (LVL 40)]
[TITLE: THE DESTROYER OF DREAMS]
[ABILITY: THE 1-STAR REVIEW]
The Critic looked down at them. His voice didn't come from a mouth; it echoed directly into their insecurities.
"Generic," the Critic sneered. "A Sword User. A Tank. A Rogue. A Bard. And... a Fish? A blatant attempt at quirky humor. Disgusting."
The Critic raised his Stamp.
"This party lacks originality. I rate you... 1 Star."
The Attack on Sarah
The Critic slammed the Stamp onto the floor. A shockwave of red energy rippled out. It didn't hit Aryan. It hit Sarah.
[ATTACK: "FLAT CHARACTER ARC"]
[EFFECT: REMOVES MOTIVATION AND PERSONALITY.]
Sarah froze. Her eyes went dull. The [Protection Charm] on her handbag flickered and died.
"Why am I here?" Sarah whispered. Her voice was monotone. "I'm just the scared girl trope. I have no backstory. I have no purpose. I should be cut for pacing."
Her body began to turn transparent. She was fading.
"Sarah!" Aryan shouted. He tried to grab her, but his hand passed through her shoulder. "She's being retconned! The System thinks she's unnecessary!"
"She contributes nothing!" The Critic boomed. "She complains. She hides. She is Dead Weight. Delete her."
Sarah's legs vanished. She looked at Aryan with empty eyes. "Goodbye, Aryan. I was just filler anyway."
"NO!" Aryan roared.
He couldn't fight the Critic with a sword. You can't stab an opinion. He had to use [The Red Pen].
"You want character depth?" Aryan snarled at the giant Eye. "I'll give her depth!"
Aryan raised his mahogany finger. He didn't aim at the Critic. He aimed at Sarah's Character Sheet floating in the System interface.
[NAME: SARAH]
[CLASS: COWARDLY TACTICIAN]
[TRAIT: PARANOIA]
Aryan slashed his finger through the text.
[EDITING...]
"She isn't cowardly!" Aryan shouted, typing furiously on the holographic keyboard. "She's cautious because she values life! She hides because she sees the angles you miss!"
Aryan deleted "COWARDLY".
He typed: "CALCULATED".
[CLASS UPDATED: CALCULATED TACTICIAN]
Then, he tapped her [Backstory] section, which was currently blank.
"And she isn't filler! She's the one who organizes the inventory! She's the one who reminds us to eat! She is the Heart of Logic in a party of maniacs!"
[ADD TRAIT: THE SPINE OF THE TEAM]
[EFFECT: CANNOT BE DELETED WHILE PARTY EXISTS.]
BOOM.
A golden light exploded from Sarah. Her transparency reversed instantly. Color rushed back into her cheeks. Her glasses flashed with a scary, anime-style reflection.
Sarah looked up. She didn't look scared. She looked annoyed.
"Did that giant eyeball just call me filler?" she asked, adjusting her glasses.
"Yes," Aryan grinned.
Sarah opened her handbag. She didn't pull out a potion. She pulled out a Ledger.
"I have been keeping track of every item we've looted," Sarah said coldly. "And according to my calculations, this boss has a weakness to Audit."
[SKILL UNLOCKED: TACTICAL REBUTTAL]
Sarah pointed at the Critic. "Your criticism is invalid! You failed to account for my inventory management skills!"
She threw a [Flash Bang] (looted on Floor 5) with perfect precision right into the Critic's monocle.
BANG.
"MY EYE!" The Critic shrieked, stumbling back. "A FLASH BANG? IN A FANTASY NOVEL? ANACHRONISTIC! 0 STARS!"
The Rap Battle of the Fish
The Critic was blinded, but he wasn't dead. He raged, his red ink body boiling.
"THE COMIC RELIEF!" The Critic pointed blindly at Barnaby. "THE FISH! HE RUINS THE TONE! A TALKING FISH DESTROYS THE SERIOUS ATMOSPHERE! DELETE HIM!"
The Critic launched a [Plothole Vortex] at Barnaby.
Barnaby floated out of his jar. He looked offended. Deeply offended.
"Ruins the tone?" Barnaby bubbled. "My dear cyclops, I am the tone."
Barnaby turned to Rhea. "Bard! Drop a beat. Something aggressive."
Rhea smirked. She slammed a heavy, hip-hop beat on her lute.
Boom-bap. Boom-bap.
Barnaby grabbed a tiny magical microphone (looted from the Casino).
[SKILL ACTIVATED: LYRICAL FLOW]
"Yo," Barnaby rapped. And it wasn't a joke. His flow was impeccable.
"You sittin' in your library, actin' all mean,
But you're just a failed writer who can't paint a scene.
You call me a gimmick, you call me a joke,
But when I pilot the Mech, all you demons get smoked!
You judge from the sidelines, you never take a risk,
I'm a god-tier Leviathan, you're a floppy disk!
I got scales of gold, you got ink of red,
Keep talkin' that trash, and you'll end up unread!"
[CRITICAL HIT: VICOUS MOCKERY]
[DAMAGE: 9999 EMOTIONAL DAMAGE]
The Critic clutched his chest. "THE RHYMES! THEY ARE TOO COMPLEX! THE METAPHORICAL STRUCTURE IS SOUND!"
Barnaby dropped the mic. "Mic drop. Fin flop."
The Review Bombing
The Critic was reeling. Sarah had countered his logic. Barnaby had destroyed his ego.
But a cornered Critic is the most dangerous kind.
"ENOUGH!" The Critic roared. He grew three times larger, turning into a tornado of red ink. "IF I CANNOT CRITIQUE YOU INDIVIDUALLY, I WILL REVIEW BOMB THE ENTIRE REALITY!"
The sky above the library tore open.
Thousands of red text boxes began to fall like meteors.
[1 STAR: BORING.]
[1 STAR: DROP THIS NOVEL.]
[1 STAR: MAIN CHARACTER IS TRASH.]
[1 STAR: PACING IS BAD.]
"It's a Review Bomb!" Mira shouted, slicing a "Boring" box in half with her daggers. "There are too many! If they hit the ground, the aggregate score drops below 3 stars, and the world gets cancelled!"
"First Son! Shield!" Aryan commanded.
The First Son raised the [World-Shield].
BAM. BAM. BAM.
The reviews hammered the shield.
"TOO CLICHÉ!" BAM.
"OVERPOWERED!" BAM.
The First Son groaned. "Brother, the negativity... it is heavy. My morale is dropping."
Aryan looked at the falling storm of hate. He saw the logic of the attack. It was pure destruction. It wasn't about truth; it was about volume.
"You want to flood us with words?" Aryan said, his amber eyes glowing with the Sleepless fire. "Fine. I'm the Editor. I love words."
Aryan stepped out from behind the shield.
"Aryan! No!" Mira screamed.
Aryan stood in the center of the storm. A massive [1 STAR: WEAK PROTAGONIST] box was falling straight for his head.
Aryan raised his hand.
[SKILL: THE RED PEN - MASS EDIT]
[COST: ALL REMAINING STAMINA]
"I accept your review," Aryan whispered. "But I think you made a typo."
He slashed the air.
He didn't delete the review. He edited it mid-air.
He changed "WEAK" to "PEAK".
He changed "1 STAR" to "5 STARS".
The red box turned Golden.
[5 STARS: PEAK PROTAGONIST]
It hit Aryan. But instead of crushing him, it absorbed into him.
[SYSTEM BUFF: PROTAGONIST AURA +500%]
"What?!" The Critic screamed.
Aryan began to dance through the storm. He was a blur of motion.
He touched a "BORING" box. -> Edited to "ROARING".
He touched a "LAZY" box. -> Edited to "CRAZY".
He touched a "DROP THIS" box. -> Edited to "TOP THIS".
Every edited review turned into a Buff.
Speed up. Strength up. Luck up. Charisma up.
The storm of hate turned into a shower of blessings. Aryan was glowing like a sun.
"You forgot the first rule of the internet," Aryan shouted, levitating into the air, fueled by the 5-Star energy. "Engagement is Engagement! Even hate comments boost the algorithm!"
He flew straight at the Critic's giant Eye.
Excaliburn sensed the hype. The sword unsheathed itself without being asked.
"WOW! LOOK AT ALL THOSE 5 STARS! WE'RE FAMOUS!" the sword cheered.
[SKILL: THE EDITOR'S STRIKE]
Aryan plunged the sword into the Critic's pupil.
"Your review..." Aryan whispered into the ink. "...has been reported for spam."
CLICK.
The Critic froze.
[STATUS: BANNED.]
KA-BOOM.
The giant ink monster exploded. But it didn't explode into gore. It exploded into Confetti and Likes.
The Loot and the Lore
The library went silent. The flying books landed gently on the shelves. The red ink evaporated.
Aryan landed softly on the ground. He was exhausted. Editing a thousand reviews in ten seconds had drained his mental battery.
"That," Barnaby said, floating over, "was the most satisfying thing I have ever witnessed. I felt my market value increase."
Mira walked up to Aryan. She picked something up from the ground where the Critic had died.
It was a pair of glasses.
[ITEM: ARCHITECT'S FRAGMENT #5]
[THE LENSES OF CRITIQUE]
Effect: Allows you to see the 'Weak Point' of any narrative structure. Can identify plot armor and break it.
"The last Fragment," Aryan said, taking the glasses. He put them on.
The world shifted. He could see the structural lines of the Tower. He could see the flow of mana like ink.
And he saw something else.
He looked at the ceiling of Floor 12.
There was a crack. A literal crack in the reality of the floor.
"We have all five fragments," Aryan said. "Now we can forge the Key to the Throne."
"Wait," Sarah said, checking her ledger. "If we have the Key... do we skip the other floors? Do we go straight to Floor 100?"
"No," Aryan said, adjusting the glasses. "The Tower isn't just a ladder. It's a lock. We have the pieces, but we still have to reach the top to insert them."
He looked at the elevator.
[NEXT DESTINATION: FLOOR 13 - THE HOTEL OF THE UNLUCKY.]
"Floor 13," Rhea shuddered. "That sounds ominous."
"It's just a number," Aryan said, walking forward. "And if it's unlucky... I'll just edit the number to 14."