My Charity System made me too OP

Leon didn't summon his weapons immediately.

Instead, he breathed.

Because now he understood.

This fight wasn't about power.

It was about remorse.

Trial Phase One: The Fall of Allies

The battlefield shifted.

Suddenly Leon stood alone as specters formed—twisted versions of Naval, Roselia, Kael, Roman, and Milim. Each one fell in battle before him, struck down by unseen enemies. Each one stared at him with disappointment, as if to say, Why didn't you stop it?

Noctel's voice echoed through the smoke. "You will lose them. Not all at once. But over time. And every time you try to carry the weight… it will crush you."

Leon didn't deny it.

He stepped forward.

And spoke aloud. "Then I'll carry it anyway."

The specters lunged.

He didn't fight them. He let them pass through—acknowledging their pain. Accepting that one day, even he might not be able to protect everyone.

And the scene broke.

Trial Phase Two: The Collapse of Purpose

Now the Bastion was in ruin. Burned, broken, abandoned. The heart tree blackened. The rivers dry. And Leon stood alone.

Noctel stood atop the wreckage. "What if everything you build falls anyway?"

Leon answered through gritted teeth. "Then I'll build it again."

The scene shook. Reality cracked. And Noctel descended, striking down with a blade forged of old regrets.

Leon caught it bare-handed.

And didn't flinch.

Trial Phase Three: The Mirror

Leon now faced… himself.

But older. Bitter. Scarred. Eyes jaded.

This version of Leon held no weapons. He simply stared. "You'll grow tired. One day, the Tower will feel heavier than your dreams. You'll ask yourself if it was worth it."

Leon didn't answer at first.

Then, calmly, he stepped forward—and embraced his reflection.

"I know."

"And when that day comes—I'll still move forward."

The mirror shattered.

And Sovereign Noctel stood in silence.

Trial Complete – Throne Seat Reclaimed

Null Seat converted to Sovereign Seat: Throne of Enduring Will

Title Gained: The One Who Keeps Walking

Ability Gained: Unbroken Mandate – Your leadership grants passive resistance to despair and corruption effects for all allied floors.

Noctel stepped back, his voice softer now.

"You may still break. But at least now… you'll break for the right reasons."

Leon extended his hand.

Noctel stared at it.

Then smiled faintly—and vanished.

Back in Bastion Aether, the sky shimmered again.

A second beam descended.

Another throne reclaimed.

And the Tower whispered louder now.

It no longer tested Leon.

It began to accept him.

And far above—even among the oldest Councils of Architects—

Some began to prepare.

Because Leon wasn't just rising.

He was redefining what a ruler meant.

The reclamation of the forgotten seat didn't cause tremors or cataclysms. It was quieter. Deeper. The Tower shifted like a massive being turning in its sleep—acknowledging that something had changed.

But not everyone welcomed it.

In the upper reaches of the Council Shell, where active Architects maintained the laws and mechanisms of the Tower, several turned to face the new pulse of authority echoing from Bastion Aether.

"He's not just reclaiming thrones," murmured Architect Caldreth, a wielder of cause-and-effect laws. "He's restoring them."

"And reshaping the ecosystem beneath," added Architect Revane, whose voice echoed through fractal mirrors. "Even the Sovereign Seeds are resonating. That hasn't happened in centuries."

A third voice—harsh, clipped—spoke. "It was fine when he merely survived. Even when he built. But now… he leads. That's dangerous."

They turned to a massive sealed chamber behind them. A pillar of runes, rotating with locked coordinates, sat dormant.

Until now.

One of the runes flared dimly.

The seal was weakening.

Meanwhile – Bastion Aether

Leon stood at the overlook of the throne chamber, the echoes of Noctel's trial still lingering behind his eyes. He hadn't spoken in hours. His hand remained clenched—not from pain, but from memory.

Roselia approached with quiet footsteps. "Another throne?"

Leon gave a faint nod.

"It didn't look like a victory," she said carefully.

"It wasn't," Leon replied. "It was an inheritance. And a warning."

Naval stepped in from the corridor, tossing a scroll onto the table. "More Tower updates. Ever since that throne got reclaimed, the Tower's begun to generate new paths. Some sealed branches are reopening."

Roman leaned against a column. "Which means people are watching."

"Not just watching," Milim muttered, joining them. "Preparing. If I'm reading the patterns right… the Tower's going to push back."

Leon turned to face the whole group.

"I know."

That Night – Within the Core Reflection Pool

Leon stood before a pool of light in the Bastion's heart. A feature only Sovereign Seat holders could access.

It reflected not the present—

—but the Tower's memory of the past.

Leon watched flickers of other rulers before him. Some burned brightly for a time. Some faded without notice. And one… one Sovereign stood tall above the others, cloaked in light so intense the pool almost cracked.

Leon narrowed his eyes. "Who was he?"

The system whispered:

[Unknown Sovereign Record – Redacted by Architect Council]

Alias Recovered: "The Architect That Tried To Unify"

Leon stared for a long moment. "And what happened to him?"

No response came.

The light simply dimmed.

Elsewhere – Floor 600+ (Restricted)

Deep within the Tower's unknown heights, a set of chains broke.

One.

Then another.

Within a sealed crystal shell, a figure opened his eyes.

His armor was dusted in time. His body unmoving. But his aura—a crushing, perfect pressure—woke with terrifying purpose.

He did not speak.

But a name passed through every unlocked Sovereign Seat.

Every Architect heard it.

Every sealed layer shivered.

Khoras.

The Last Unifier.

And now…

he knew someone had stepped into his footsteps.

Back in the Throne Halls

Leon returned from the Reflection Pool, quiet.

He faced his team and said only one thing:

"We move now. The Tower isn't passive anymore. It's preparing something. And so are we."

Roman raised an eyebrow. "Preparing for what?"

Leon turned toward the sealed upper corridors—where whispers of Council Summit Protocols were beginning to surface.

"For the true rulers of the Tower," he said.

"And if they won't listen…"

His Shell Reverb pulsed once—deep, strong.

"…we'll make them."