Phased out

As the group stood from their seats, Nathan led the way, confidently striding toward the elevator. The hotel's interior was sleek, modern, and eerily pristine—too perfect, too untouched. But for now, nobody cared.

Reaching the elevator, Nathan pressed the button, and the doors slid open smoothly.

Inside, the glowing interface displayed a long list of floors. Without hesitation, Nathan clicked on the 70th—the highest floor in the building.

Lena, stepping in beside him, raised an eyebrow. "There are functioning elevators here?"

Nathan nodded casually. "Yup. Smooth as butter."

Milo, grinning, stepped in after him. "Oh great, a haunted glass death box. Just what I wanted."

The group chuckled, piling into the elevator. Surprisingly, even with thirteen people, they fit comfortably—a sign that this place was designed far too perfectly.

As the doors slid shut, Ethan felt a quiet sense of anticipation in his chest.

And then—

The elevator began to rise.

A Fever Dream in Motion

The moment the elevator left the ground floor, the walls turned transparent.

A collective breath hitched.

The entire elevator was made of glass.

And outside?

The city unfolded before them.

Lights. Thousands. No—millions.

The streets below were an endless stretch of neon rivers, flowing in waves of soft purples, deep blues, and glowing golds.

The towering buildings stood like monoliths of light, pulsing gently, their surfaces shifting between glass, steel, and something entirely unrecognizable.

It was alive, yet untouched.

From above, the roads stretched into mesmerizing patterns, intertwining like a living circuit board. It wasn't just a city—it was art.

Even the sky—**dark, endless, free of stars—**felt like an artificial dome above an illuminated kingdom.

And in that moment…

It didn't feel real.

It felt like a fever dream.

A place designed for beauty, for illusion, for something beyond their understanding.

Nobody spoke at first.

Even Milo, usually the loudest in the room, had gone silent.

Alice's eyes widened in awe, her lips slightly parted. "It's… beautiful."

Harper, usually skeptical, exhaled slowly. "This is unreal."

Milo finally broke the silence, pressing his hands against the glass. "Okay, I take it back. If this is a death trap, at least it's a pretty one."

Lena let out a soft laugh. "Agreed."

Nathan, arms crossed, grinned. "Told you guys. The view's the main event."

Ethan, standing near the edge of the glass, couldn't look away.

His mind, always focused on survival, always questioning, always doubting—went blank.

For the first time, he didn't feel fear.

He didn't feel tension.

He just… existed.

Alice, standing beside him, leaned slightly toward him. "Doesn't this place feel… too perfect?"

Ethan nodded slowly, his voice quieter than usual. "Yeah… like something made to distract us."

Alice hummed in thought, but for now, she let herself admire the moment.

Derek whistled. "Man, imagine if we had cars here. You could race across these roads at, like, a thousand miles per hour."

Zara smirked. "You just wanna crash something, don't you?"

Derek grinned. "You get me."

Milo, still staring, grinned. "I feel like we're ascending into heaven. Any second now, some divine music's gonna start playing."

Tobias, arms crossed, muttered, "If this were heaven, Milo, they wouldn't have let you in."

The group laughed as Milo put a hand over his heart. "Wow. You wound me, Toblerone. You really do."

Samuel chuckled, shaking his head. "You guys are idiots."

But even as he said it, his eyes never left the mesmerizing cityscape.

As the elevator continued to rise, the city stretched further and further beneath them.

For one night, for one moment—

They weren't prisoners in a strange world.

They weren't people struggling to survive.

They were just humans, standing inside a glass elevator, ascending through an impossible city, surrounded by a beauty none of them could comprehend.

And as the elevator neared the top, Ethan realized something.

Even if this world was fake—

Even if this peace wouldn't last—

This moment was real.

And maybe, just maybe…

That was enough.

The elevator slowed to a halt. A soft chime rang out, and the sleek metallic doors slid open effortlessly.

One by one, the group stepped out onto the top floor, their footsteps echoing against the marble-like surface. The air was different here. Cleaner, lighter—as if the entire atmosphere was purified.

Nathan took the lead, his steps confident as he approached the final door.

The rooftop access.

His fingers brushed against the handle, but before he pushed it open, he stopped.

Turning to face the group, he took in their anticipation, their excitement, their quiet awe.

Then, with a small smirk, he asked:

"Are you guys ready?"

The response was immediate.

A mix of voices—some excited, some teasing, some simply nodding—but all in agreement.

Nathan exhaled, a grin playing on his lips.

And then—

He opened the door.

The moment the door swung open, a gust of wind rushed past them.

Cool. Crisp. Real.

Unlike the glass-enclosed elevator, this was pure, unfiltered beauty. No reflections. No barriers. Just the world as it was meant to be seen.

And the city?

It was magnificent.

Neon rivers of gold, violet, and electric blue pulsed through the streets below, winding like glowing veins of an endless, living organism.

The towers stretched higher than any human civilization should allow, their sleek, glass-like exteriors shifting colors ever so slightly, responding to an unseen force.

The roads were perfectly structured, glowing symbols embedded into them, flickering as if transmitting some unknown energy.

From this height, the city no longer looked like something man-made.

It looked like a universe unto itself.

The sky above them was dark, endless, and yet… not empty.

The air felt charged, alive.

There were no stars, yet the sky pulsed faintly, like it was breathing. The longer they stared, the more it felt like something was watching back.

And despite that unsettling thought—it was beautiful.

No one spoke at first.

They just stood there, letting the wind brush against their skin, letting their lungs fill with air that somehow felt cleaner than anything they had ever breathed before.

Alice slowly stepped forward, her golden hair catching the breeze, eyes wide with silent wonder.

"It's… unreal." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Lena, standing beside her, wrapped her arms around herself as if absorbing the warmth of the glowing world beneath them. "It doesn't even feel like we should be here."

Samuel, hands in his pockets, let out a low whistle. "I knew it would look good, but this? This is something else."

Ethan, standing near the edge, let the wind push against him as he took in every detail.

For once, he had nothing to say.

There was nothing to analyze.

Nothing to doubt.

Just… a city that wasn't supposed to exist.

Milo, surprisingly silent for once, finally spoke up. "Okay, so, I might have joked about this place being a fever dream earlier, but I think I was actually right."

Derek grinned. "Yeah, we're 100% in a simulation. This is way too nice."

Tobias, adjusting his glasses, muttered, "If this were a simulation, there'd be a reason for us seeing it like this. But this… this feels more like an illusion we're supposed to believe in."

Harper exhaled, shaking her head. "I don't even care what it is. I just want to look at it."

And they did.

For the first time since arriving in this world—

There was no immediate threat.

No urgent danger.

Just silence.

But not the suffocating, dreadful kind.

This silence was warm, whole, peaceful.

A silence where the only thing that mattered was being here, in this moment.

Ethan slowly exhaled, his eyes locked onto the glowing city, the infinite roads, the sky that refused to be normal.

And for the first time in a long, long time—

He felt small.

Not in a bad way.

Not in a helpless way.

But in the way you feel when standing in front of something bigger than yourself.

Something so vast and so incomprehensible that for a brief moment, your own struggles feel insignificant.

Alice, standing beside him, looked up at him.

"You okay?"

Ethan, still staring at the city, let out a small breath.

"I think I finally get it."

Alice tilted her head. "Get what?"

He didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he turned his head slightly, looking at her—noticing how the light from below reflected in her eyes, how the wind made her hair sway slightly, how for a moment, she looked like she belonged here.

He smiled—just barely.

"That no matter what happens next… I'm gonna remember this."

Alice smiled back, nodding. "Me too."

And just like that—

For tonight, for this one moment in time—

Everything was okay.

Everything was beautiful.

Everything felt real.

Even if it wasn't.

The rooftop was quiet.

The group stood in awe, basking in the impossible beauty of the glowing city below. The wind was crisp, the lights stretched endlessly, and for the first time, there was no fear, no urgency—just peace.

But someone had to ruin it.

Not intentionally.

But unintentionally.

"Hey… what the hell is that?"

Zara's voice cut through the moment, her tone sharp, unnerved.

The group turned to look where she was pointing.

And just like that—the peace was gone.

Even from this unbelievable height, it was still there.

The tower.

A massive, obsidian monolith that stretched beyond the sky itself.

Even from here—the highest point in the building—they couldn't see the top.

It just… kept going.

Its structure was flawless yet unnerving, as if built with something more than human hands. Unlike the neon-lit buildings around it, the tower absorbed light, standing as a pitch-black void against the luminous skyline.

But what disturbed them most?

It wasn't just darkness.

It wasn't just its impossible height.

It was that—in its own terrifying way—it was beautiful.

The edges of the tower were smooth, yet twisted like ancient stone crafted by something cruel and divine.

Scarlet-red veins pulsed faintly across its surface, like it was alive. Like it was breathing.

It was silent, yet its presence screamed.

And standing this high up, seeing it so clearly—

It felt less like a building.

And more like a God's prison.

Or worse—a Devil's home.

Alice took an uneasy step back, her earlier excitement vanishing. "That's… not normal."

Lena swallowed hard. "I don't like that. I really don't like that."

Derek, who had been all smiles just moments ago, felt a chill crawl up his spine. "Bro, why does it look like it's watching us?"

Tobias, usually logical, felt his own stomach knot. "I… don't know what I'm looking at. But I don't want to look anymore."

Harper, who rarely let fear show, whispered under her breath. "That thing should not be there."

Milo, normally the comic relief, was completely silent. His expression wasn't one of humor—but quiet, genuine discomfort.

Samuel?

Samuel felt his body tense up, every instinct telling him to look away, but he couldn't.

He had seen this before.

But seeing it this close, this clear?

It was so much worse.

His breath was unsteady. His fingers twitched.

And then—he looked at Ethan.

And saw the exact same reaction.

Ethan's entire body had stiffened.

His breathing had slowed.

His hands curled into fists.

Not in anger.

Not in frustration.

But in pure, uncontrollable unease.

He had already seen this tower once tonight.

And from below, it had already seemed impossible.

But now?

Now he was above almost everything. Higher than most of the city.

And the tower was still towering over them.

Still stretching.

Still rising.

It wasn't supposed to exist.

It shouldn't exist.

But it did.

And something about it felt… wrong.

Ethan's throat was dry as he spoke, his voice low, almost like he didn't want to be heard by whatever was inside that thing.

"Samuel."

Samuel didn't turn. He kept staring at it.

"Yeah?"

Ethan swallowed, his mind racing.

"It's even bigger than I thought."

Samuel exhaled sharply, nodding. "I know."

Alice, noticing both of their reactions, frowned. "Wait… you guys knew about this?"

Samuel finally tore his gaze away and looked at her.

"We saw it earlier."

A heavy silence.

Harper's eyes narrowed. "And you didn't say anything?"

Ethan shook his head. "We thought we were seeing things. Or that it was… blocked by fog or something."

Nathan, the one who had led them here, finally spoke.

His voice, usually confident, wavered.

"I was up here before… but I never saw it."

That made everyone freeze.

"...What?"

Nathan rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the tower again, his stomach twisting. "I swear. When I was up here earlier today—before you guys came—I didn't see that."

The weight of his words sank in.

It hadn't been visible before.

But now it was.

And none of them knew why.

The cold breeze felt colder now.

The silence wasn't peaceful anymore.

It was suffocating.

Milo finally broke the tension, forcing a laugh, but it was weak.

"Alright, uh… so, who votes we ignore the spooky demon tower and just enjoy the view?"

Nobody laughed.

Nobody agreed.

Because nobody could ignore it now.

Ethan let out a slow breath, his eyes never leaving the structure.

Something inside him whispered.

A warning. A feeling. A certainty.

That tower…

It's waiting.

And somehow, he knew—

One day, we're going to have to go there.

And when that day came?

Nothing would ever be the same again.

The rooftop was still heavy with silence.

The glow of the city stretched endlessly before them, but no one was looking at it anymore.

All eyes were locked on the tower.

A structure that was too tall, too unnatural—a monument to something unknown.

It had drained the warmth from the air, replacing it with a suffocating weight.

And then—

For the first time since they'd all gathered here, Victor spoke.

His voice was smooth, steady—but wrong.

"We should go."

Heads turned.

Ethan's eyes narrowed. "What?"

Victor grinned.

It wasn't a normal grin.

It was too sharp, too entertained, too knowing.

He lifted a hand, pointing lazily toward the tower of nightmares.

"We should explore it."

A shiver ran through the group.

No one had expected him to speak—let alone say something like that.

Alice instinctively stepped closer to Ethan. Lena crossed her arms, uneasy.

Milo, ever the comedian, let out a nervous laugh. "Oh, great. He talks, and the first thing he says is 'let's go into the haunted death tower.' Love that for us."

Victor ignored him.

His gaze stayed locked on Ethan.

Ethan stared back, his jaw clenching slightly.

He didn't trust Victor.

Not before. And definitely not now.

"That's a stupid idea," Ethan said flatly. "We don't know what's in there."

Victor tilted his head. "Exactly."

Ethan's expression hardened. "That's not a reason to go. That's a reason to stay away."

Victor let out a small chuckle, shaking his head like Ethan was a naive child.

"See, that's where you're wrong," he mused. "The unknown isn't something you avoid. It's something you chase."

Samuel finally cut in, voice calm but firm. "Victor, you're talking about a place we literally couldn't see until now. That doesn't bother you?"

Victor shrugged. "Of course, it does. That's what makes it exciting."

Ethan's grip tightened at his sides. "This isn't a game."

Victor's smile widened. "Are you sure?"

That hit differently.

For a brief second, Ethan saw something in Victor's dark, amused eyes.

Something that made his stomach twist.

Victor took a step forward, glancing around at the group. "What's the point of surviving if we don't try to understand where we are?"

Tobias, who had been quiet until now, adjusted his glasses. "There's a difference between understanding something and walking blindly into danger."

Victor exhaled, shaking his head. "You're all so scared. So careful."

His gaze flicked back to Ethan.

"I get it now."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Get what?"

Victor smirked.

"You're just like him."

The air went still.

Ethan's pulse spiked.

His voice dropped. "What did you just say?"

Victor's grin didn't waver. "You hesitate. You try to keep people safe. You think it's all about making the right decisions."****"But hesitation gets people killed. And deep down, you know that. Don't you?"

Something in Ethan's chest burned.

Images of Karlos falling, of his hand slipping away, of the helplessness in his eyes—

Ethan clenched his fists. "You don't know anything about me."

Victor chuckled. "Oh, but I do."

His voice lowered, amused. "You're afraid. Not just of the tower. Not just of this place. You're afraid of failing again."

Ethan's breathing slowed.

The group was dead silent.

Alice's fingers lightly brushed against his wrist, as if pulling him back to reality.

Samuel finally stepped in. "Enough."

Victor lifted his hands in mock surrender. "Relax. I'm just saying—sooner or later, we have to explore it."

Ethan inhaled sharply through his nose.

Then, he turned away.

"Not now." His voice was cold. "Not while I'm here."

Victor studied him for a long moment.

Then—he smiled.

"We'll see."

And just like that, he walked away from the edge of the rooftop.

The tension in the air was thick.

Milo finally exhaled, rubbing his face. "Okay. So, uh, I vote we pretend that conversation didn't happen."

Alice frowned. "That guy gives me the creeps."

Harper crossed her arms. "You're not wrong."

Nathan, silent up until now, finally spoke.

"We'll have to watch him."

Ethan barely heard them.

His eyes were still on the tower.

Victor was right about one thing.

One day, they were going to have to go there.

But not now.

Not yet.

And when that day came?

Ethan had a very, very bad feeling about it.