The air inside the chamber felt heavy, thick with old magic and older malice.
The demon's voice emerged again, dry and distant, echoing as if it came from the depths of a well. "No one understands the mystery behind the summoning."
It began to move, its steps slow and deliberate, hovering just above the ground. It circled Zen, like a vulture waiting for its prey.
"Humans. Demons. Elves. We've all tried. We've torn open minds, dissected souls. Still, nothing."
Its gaze momentarily fell on a suspended corpse, barely distinguishable as either man or beast, its form grotesquely distorted.
"Some time ago, a rumor reached me," the demon continued, amusement lacing its voice. "That the humans had found a solution."
It chuckled, a low, joyless sound that sent chills down Zen's spine.
"And if there's one thing I know, it's that humans are the most greedy and cunning creatures alive. So, we captured their so-called 'Magus', who was behind this breakthrough."
A claw traced lazily along the glass containing the corpse.
"Disappointing. It turned out to be nothing more than a desperate lie, born from failure. They tried to force the Tower's will… and paid the price."
The demon turned its attention back to Zen.
"Still, from that pitiful Magus, I learned something. A device. A theory. They called it... the Resonator."
A wave of dread washed over Zen as he heard the name.
"They believed it could align a soul with the Tower's call. Induce resonance. Bypass its defenses."
There was a pause, a breath that wasn't quite a breath, hanging in the air like a weight.
"Of course, it failed. But I... I picked up where they left off."
The temperature in the room plummeted. Shadows shifted, creeping closer.
"I experimented it over and over, so many times. The Resonator was designed to sync the soul with the Tower frequency. But souls are fragile things. They easily tear, implode, and scream without sound. It didn't matter whether they were human or demon; they all died."
Silence descended, crawling across Zen's skin like a creeping mold.
An icy weight settled in Zen's chest, tightening his stomach into a knot.
"I stopped eventually. It was a waste. Until yesterday."
The demon glided a step closer. Its eye narrowed, assessing.
"The Queen summoned me. Said you're special. Said you survived, Nitya. She thinks you might just survive this."
Zen remained still, his heart pounding in his chest.
He understood his fate before the demon's words were fully delivered.
A heavy stillness enveloped him, as if something within him had gone quiet.
"But I don't think you'll make it," the demon muttered, almost to itself. "I can feel it. You're going to die. And honestly, if it were up to me, I would cut you open, piece by piece, and find out what kept you alive in that cursed place."
Its voice lowered, a disturbing whisper.
"What a pity."
So that was it.
They believed that if he survived Nitya, he might survive this as well. Zen felt a knot tighten in his chest. That was why they hadn't investigated how he lived.
They were using him as an experiment to find out.
Even he didn't know the reason behind his survival. Nothing about Nitya had made sense, neither to him nor anyone else. Perhaps it had simply chosen to let him go.
But the Tower?
That was an entirely different matter. There were no cracks to escape through in the Tower.
Deep down, he knew he wouldn't emerge from this alive.
But he couldn't afford to die, not now. Not while his sister was still out there.
She might be in an orphanage, but demons would never leave her in peace. If he vanished, she would be unprotected.
He promised their mother. He had to keep that promise, no matter the cost.
He knew that if they wanted to be free, he had to confront the Demon of Dreams one day. But he wasn't strong enough yet.
The Tower had been his only hope. The plan had been straightforward: wait. Just two more months until he turned twelve. Then he could enter the Tower and fight for power on his own terms.
That hope had sustained him through so much.
And now it was gone.
Why?
Why now?
Why did it always end up like this?
Why couldn't the world leave him alone?
Was he being punished?
A storm of thoughts swirled in his chest, thick with anger and helplessness. At the center of it all was her, his sister.
He couldn't let them proceed with this plan.
If he died here, she would be left behind. And even though she was safe for now, that could change in an instant. A demon's word was as fickle as the games they played.
He turned to face the demon, forcing the words past the tightness in his throat.
"I can't do this," he said. "I want an audience with the Queen. I can-"
But the demon interrupted.
"She knew you'd say that. She told me to pass along a message: 'Your sister arrived at the orphanage some time ago. It wouldn't take much to bring her here. And if you go through with the experiment, I will not touch her, even if you die.' "
The demon tilted its head slightly, as if mocking sincerity.
"She made a vow. In her name. What more do you want?"
Zen froze.
The Demon of Dreams had already betrayed their contract once.
He knew demons were not to be trusted, but they didn't use their names to make empty promises.
Even if he didn't want to do it, there was no escaping this reality.
And yet, she could be in danger.
The Demon of Dreams had already broken their contract once, and he knew all too well that demons couldn't be trusted. But even they didn't make vows lightly, especially not when they swore on their own names.
He didn't want to do it; deep down, he knew there was no escaping the fate she'd laid out for him. But she could have handled things differently. She could have simply thrown him into the experiment while he was unconscious and conducted her experiment without a second thought. Yet, she chose to let him in on her plans. Why?
Was she trying to drive him to despair? To break him before it was all over?
No. If that had been her intention, she wouldn't have made any promise regarding his sister. That just didn't fit with her usual brand of cruelty.
And that realization unsettled him more than anything else.
He couldn't figure out what game she was playing, and perhaps it didn't even matter anymore.
Drawing in a long, slow breath, he let it settle deep within him.
So… the Tower now, huh?