I am just an NPC ,but I rewrite the story-Chapter 66: [65] The Sound of One Hand Texting

The white bone-trees didn’t just look like skeletons; they sounded like them. Every time a breeze—though where a breeze came from in a sealed magical tower was beyond me—passed through the black lace leaves, it produced a dry, rattling sound. Like a thousand dice being rolled on a marble floor.

"Find your reflection," I muttered, kicking a piece of calcified root. "Vague. Really helpful, Tower. Thanks for that."

My boots felt heavy. Even though the System said my Agility was 12, it didn’t feel like the Agility I had back in Silver-Port. Everything in this place felt like it was tuned to a different frequency. My muscles ached with a dull, constant throb, a reminder that I was back at the bottom of the food chain. Level 2 was a slight improvement over Level 1, but it wasn’t exactly making me feel like a god. I still had the cardio of a guy who spent too much time sitting at a desk, even if that desk was now a memory from a different life.

I looked at the silver gauntlet again—the one I’d seen hanging from the branch. I’d reached out to touch it, hoping it was actually Lysandra’s, but my fingers had passed right through the metal. It had dissolved into a cloud of grey ash that smelled faintly of old incense.

"Hallucinations. Great," I sighed. "Just what I needed when I’m alone in a bone forest."

The whispering was getting louder. It wasn’t just my name anymore. It was snippets of conversations.

...the bread isn’t rising, Ren... (Tybalt’s voice)

...you were adequate, Wolf... (Lysandra’s voice)

...don’t touch the merchandise... (The butcher from the Shadow Guild)

"Shut up," I said to the trees. "I know you’re not real. I saw the patch notes for this place. You’re a sensory-input trap. Level-scaling mental debuff."

I kept walking, keeping my eyes on the ground. The silver sand from the Void-Wastes was gone, replaced by a fine, grey powder that looked like bone dust. Every few hundred yards, I’d see something that didn’t belong. A broken wooden bird like the one Mia carved. A charred piece of a Covenant cloak. A rolling pin snapped in half.

The Tower was digging. It was looking for the things that mattered to me, trying to pull them out so it could use them as bait.

"Ren!"

I stopped. That voice didn’t sound like a whisper. It sounded loud. Close. And it didn’t sound like anyone from my party.

I ducked behind a particularly thick bone-tree, pulling my rusty knife. I held my breath, listening. The rattling of the leaves died down, and I heard the heavy, rhythmic thump of something large moving through the brush.

A man burst into the small clearing twenty feet away. He wasn’t human. He stood nearly seven feet tall, his body covered in thick, tawny fur. He had the head of a lion, but his hands were dexterous, gripping a massive axe made of some kind of obsidian-like stone. He was wearing leather straps and furs that looked primitive, yet they were reinforced with glowing blue metal.

[Target: Korg]

[Level: 4]

[World: Primal-Gaia (Beast-Kin)]

He was bleeding from a long gash on his shoulder, and his breathing was a series of wet, ragged growls. He scanned the clearing, his golden eyes wide with panic.

"Where is it?!" he roared, his voice shaking the lace leaves. "Show yourself, demon! I am the Chieftain of the Sun-Mane! I do not fear ghosts!"

He swung his axe at a nearby tree, the obsidian blade shearing through the bone-wood like it was dry kindling. The tree let out a shriek—a literal, high-pitched scream—and bled a thick, black sap.

"Whoa, easy there, Big Cat," I whispered to myself, pressing my back against the bark. Level 4. He was two levels higher than me and about four hundred pounds heavier. If he saw me, he’d probably turn me into a red smudge before I could explain I was also having a bad day.

Korg wasn’t looking for me, though. He was looking at the center of the clearing, where the grey dust was starting to swirl.

The dust began to take shape. It didn’t turn into a person. It turned into a pool of water. A perfectly circular, unnaturally still pond that sat right in the middle of the bone-trees.

The Lion-man froze. He lowered his axe, his mane bristling. "The Reflection..."

He walked toward the pond, his footsteps heavy. He stopped at the edge and looked down.

"No," Korg whispered. "That... that is not me."

I peeked around the tree. I couldn’t see what was in the water from my angle, but I could see the Lion-man’s face. His expression shifted from fear to a deep, gut-wrenching sorrow. His shoulders slumped. The axe slipped from his hand, thudding into the bone-dust.

"I left them," he sobbed, his voice losing its roar. "I took the invitation. I wanted the wish. I left my pride to burn so I could be a hero. I’m not a king. I’m a coward."

The water in the pond began to rise. It didn’t splash; it flowed upward like liquid glass, wrapping around Korg’s legs.

"Wait, don’t!" I shouted, stepping out from behind the tree.

I don’t know why I did it. Maybe it was the way he looked—broken, just like Kaelen had looked when I first met him. Or maybe I just didn’t want to see a guy get eaten by a puddle.

Korg didn’t even look at me. He was staring into the water, his eyes glazed. "They’re calling me, human. My cubs. I have to go back."

The liquid glass was up to his waist now. It was turning black, the same oily color as the Blight.

"It’s a lie!" I yelled, running toward him. I felt the Level 2 Agility straining my legs. "Korg! The pond isn’t showing you the past, it’s showing you what you’re afraid of! Look at the trees! They’re bone! It’s an illusion!"

The liquid glass reached his chest. Korg looked at me then, but his eyes were empty. "Does it matter if it’s a lie? The truth is I’m here, and they are there."

He vanished.

The liquid glass snapped back into the pond with a wet schlock. The surface became perfectly still again. Korg’s axe lay in the dust, the only proof he’d ever been there.

[Notice: Participant Korg has failed the Trial of Floor 2.]

[Status: Eliminated.]

I stood at the edge of the pond, my chest heaving. Eliminated. I didn’t know if that meant he was dead or just kicked out of the tower, but the tone of the notification didn’t feel optimistic.

"Right," I whispered, looking at the water. "My turn."

I walked to the edge. My reflection didn’t appear immediately. The water stayed dark for a long moment, then the surface began to ripple.

I expected to see the farmhouse. I expected to see my mother, or maybe the Architect, or the ’Admin’ version of me from the deleted timeline. I expected the Tower to hit me where it hurt.

But when the ripples settled, I saw a guy.

He was wearing a wrinkled white button-down shirt and a crooked blue tie. His hair was slightly greasy from a long day under office fluorescent lights. He had dark circles under his eyes and was holding a lukewarm paper cup of coffee. He looked bored. He looked tired. He looked entirely, aggressively ordinary.

"Oh," I said, a weird lump forming in my throat. "It’s me. The real me."

The office-worker in the reflection looked up. He didn’t look like he was in a bone forest. He looked like he was looking into a mirror in a cramped bathroom at a mid-level tech firm. He sighed, took a sip of his coffee, and adjusted his glasses.

You don’t belong here, Ren, the reflection said. The voice didn’t echo in my head; I could see his lips moving in the water. You’re a data analyst. You like Excel spreadsheets and Friday night takeout. You don’t fight dragons. You don’t lead guilds. You’re just a guy who got lost in a dream.

"I’m not lost," I said, my voice steady.

Aren’t you? The reflection gestured to the bone-trees behind me. Look at this. This isn’t life. This is a grind. You’re cold, you’re tired, and you’re terrified. You could go back. Just one wish. You could be back at your desk. The coffee would be hot. The world would be safe. No one would expect you to save them.

I looked at the office-worker. For a second, I really wanted that coffee. I wanted the silence of a Saturday morning. I wanted a world where the biggest threat was a server crash.

"The coffee sucked," I said.

The reflection paused, his cup halfway to his mouth. What?

"The coffee at that office was terrible," I said, a small smile touching my lips. "It tasted like burnt beans and desperation. And the Friday night takeout? It made me feel bloated. And the spreadsheets? They didn’t mean anything. I was just moving numbers from one box to another so a guy I didn’t like could buy a bigger car."

I knelt down at the edge of the pond.

"I’m terrified here," I admitted. "Every single day. I’ve almost died more times than I can count. I’ve lost my home, I’ve lost my levels, and I’m currently talking to a puddle. But I have friends now. Real ones. People who would jump into a volcano for me. People who look at me like I actually matter."

I reached out my hand toward the water.

"I’m not going back to the cubicle. I like the bakery. I like the dog. And I’m going to find my team."

I plunged my hand into the reflection’s chest.

The liquid glass didn’t wrap around me. It didn’t try to pull me in. Instead, it shattered. The pond exploded into a million shimmering droplets of light that swirled around me, soaking into my skin.

[Mission: Find your reflection — Complete.]

[Condition Met: Identity Reaffirmed.]

[Rewards:]

+500 Points

Tower Level 3 Reached.

[System Feature Unlocked: Community Chat.]

The bone-forest didn’t dissolve this time. I was still standing in the clearing, Korg’s axe still lying in the dust. But the whispering had stopped. The trees were just trees now—quiet, dead things.

A new icon appeared in the corner of my vision. A small, pulsing speech bubble.

"Finally," I breathed.

I sat down in the bone-dust, leaning my back against Korg’s discarded axe. I tapped the icon.

A list of names appeared.

[Guild: Eclipse (Private Channel)]

- Red (Level 5)

- Kaelen (Level 4) 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

- Lysandra (Level 3)

- Cian (Level 3)

- Tybalt (Level 2)

- Ren (Level 3)

"Level 5 already? Red, you monster," I muttered.

I tapped the chat box. My fingers felt clumsy as I tried to "type" using my thoughts.

Ren: Is everyone okay? Please tell me you’re alive.

There was a pause. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, the screen exploded.

Red: REN! You’re finally on! Took you long enough. Did you get stuck in the fridge?

Tybalt: REN! Oh thank the gods! Ren, there are no muffins here! The fridge only has this weird sandwich that tastes like plastic! I’m going to starve! I’m actually going to die!

Lysandra: Ren. I am glad to see you have reached the requisite level. I am currently on Floor 3. The conditions are... difficult.

Cian: Ren! Analysis: The Tower seems to be a localized pocket dimension utilizing high-frequency mana-syncing. I’ve been trying to map the coordinates, but the walls keep moving. Also, Tybalt, stop screaming in the chat, it’s giving me a headache.

Kaelen: I’m fine.

I let out a long, shaky laugh. The sound of their "voices"—even just in text—felt like the first real breath I’d taken since the bakery dissolved.

Ren: Good to see you guys. Ty, don’t eat the ham in the fridge, Red says it’s bad.

Red: It’s worse than bad. It’s a crime against humanity.

Ren: Where is everyone? I’m on Floor 2.

Red: I just hit Floor 5. I’m in a city made of clockwork. It’s annoying. Everything ticks.

Lysandra: I am on Floor 3. It is a desert of glass. The heat is significant.

Kaelen: Floor 4. Mountains. Lots of things to hit.

Cian: I’m on Floor 3 with Lysandra, though we are in separate instances. I’ve encountered three other participants. One was from a world with steam-powered magic. He tried to shoot me with a brass dragon. I turned his gravity upside down. It was... educational.

I frowned.

Ren: Be careful with the other worlders. I just saw a guy get eliminated. A lion-man. He got caught in a reflection trap.

Red: Yeah, I saw a girl from a ’Pure Magic’ world earlier. She was trying to cast a fireball and the Tower just... ate her mana. She panicked. I didn’t stick around to see what happened.

Ren: We need to group up. The System says we’re solo until Level 10. That’s seven more levels of this.

Tybalt: Seven levels?! Ren, I’m still on Floor 1! I can’t get past the ’Challenge of the Burnt Crust’! It’s a giant golem made of charcoal and he keeps telling me my sourdough is under-proofed! It’s insulting!

Red: Lmao. Git gud, Ty.

Tybalt: Red, I will remember this when we get back to the bakery. No cinnamon rolls for you. Ever.

Red: YOU WOULDN’T.

Ren: Focus, guys. We need to grind. Level up as fast as possible. Red, you’re at Level 5—did you unlock the inventory?

Red: Yep. And the shop. The shop is a rip-off. A basic health potion costs 200 points. I only got 300 for clearing Floor 4.

Ren: What about the fragments? Red, did you have yours when you entered?

Red: Nope. All gone.

Cian: I suspect the Tower has sequestered them. They are likely at the summit. Floor 100.

Ren: Then that’s where we’re going. Keep moving. Use the chat to coordinate. If anyone finds a way to link rooms, tell us immediately.

Lysandra: Understood, Guildmaster.

Kaelen: Right.

Tybalt: I’m going to try and bribe the charcoal golem with some salt. Wish me luck.

Ren: Good luck, Ty. Mia? You there?

I waited. Mia’s name was on the list, but she hadn’t typed anything.

Cian: Mia hasn’t unlocked the chat yet. She’s still Level 1. But don’t worry, Ren. She’s in her Dimension Room. It’s safe.

Ren: Okay. Keep an eye on her level. If she stays at Level 1 too long, the Tower might consider her an ’inactive variable.’

I closed the chat. The silence of the bone-forest returned, but it didn’t feel as heavy anymore. I stood up, looking at the axe at my feet. I couldn’t carry it—it was too heavy—but I could take a piece of it. I used my rusty knife to pry a small shard of the obsidian blade loose.

[Item Obtained: Obsidian Shard (Sharp).]

[Type: Crafting Material/Weapon Upgrade.]

"Better than nothing," I said.

I looked at the golden portal that had appeared where the pond used to be.

[Next Mission: The Glass Desert.]

[Objective: Surrender your shade.]

"Alright," I said, stepping toward the portal. "Floor 3. Let’s see what else you’ve got."

As I stepped through, I felt a strange vibration in my pocket. The iron coin Gondar had given me was pulsing harder now. It wasn’t just glowing; it was vibrating in a specific pattern.

...- - -...

Morse code? No. It was a signal.

"Someone else is in here," I whispered. "Someone who knows this coin."

The transition hit, and the bone-trees vanished.

The heat was the first thing that struck me. It was a dry, searing blast that made my skin tighten instantly. I opened my eyes and saw an endless expanse of shimmering, white glass. The sky was a brilliant, blinding red, with three suns hanging directly overhead.

I was in the Glass Desert.

And fifty yards away, standing on a dune of crystal shards, was a woman. She wasn’t an illusion. She was wearing a suit of sleek, white armor that looked like it belonged on an airship pilot, and she was holding a device that looked remarkably like a radar scanner.

She looked at the scanner, then looked at me.

"Finally," she said, her voice echoing through a speaker in her helmet. "A ping from the ’Old World’ frequency. You Ren?"

I gripped my knife. "Who’s asking?"

The woman reached up and pulled off her helmet. She had short, cropped blue hair and a scar that ran from her temple to her jaw. She looked like she’d been through three wars and hadn’t enjoyed any of them.

"Name’s Jace," she said. "I’m from the ’Urban-Chrome’ world. And if you’re the guy with the iron coin, then Gondar owes me twenty bucks."

I blinked. "You know Gondar?"

"He’s my brother," she said, stepping off the dune. "And he told me if I ever saw a scrawny kid with a rusty knife, I should probably help him out before he gets himself killed."

I looked at her, then at the three suns.

"Well," I said. "He’s not wrong about the scrawny part."

The Tower was getting a lot more crowded. And for the first time, I felt like I wasn’t just playing a game anymore. I was part of a much bigger story.

"Level 3," I muttered. "Let’s get to work."