Deus Necros

“Yes,” the young man said as he began reading from the book.

They moved through the shadowed streets, the Tower always visible between buildings, no matter which route they took, like the city refused to let anyone forget its center.

Ludwig walked with the steady pace of someone conserving energy, but his eyes were always measuring distances, entrances, guard placements, the open spaces that suggested planned movement of crowds. The guide read while trying not to trip over his own feet.

“The Tower of Trials,” he began.

“It was a structure that simply came to be. Not many know of its origin or its source. Nor of its eventual goals. But all everyone knows is, once you go in, you either come back or don’t. And you never remember anything, no matter what.”

The guide’s voice tried to sound official, but a tremor slipped through. Even reading from a book, the words felt like a curse in the mouth.

Ludwig listened without comment, because he already knew the key part. No memory. That meant no clean planning. It meant improvisation inside a box that controlled the rules.

“What about people who recorded?”

“That has been tried and attempted. Or at least we think so. People who managed to come back with recorded crystals. Or even had notebooks and diaries come out with them full of nonsense and endless scribbles or corrupted footage that couldn’t be salvaged.”

Ludwig pictured it immediately. A man clawing meaning into paper in a panic, only to step out with a diary full of broken lines that couldn’t even describe the fear correctly. A crystal that should have shown clear footage, returning as static and corrupted light. The Tower didn’t simply erase memory. It mocked the attempt to preserve it.

’Seems like it’ll be difficult to retain one’s memories…’

“Go on, give me more details about it.”

“Yes,” the young man said as he moved ahead.

The looming tower kept getting closer and closer. And details of its structure became more apparent.

Arched windows circling a spiral staircase. Yet not a single soul seemed to be walking the staircases.

The architecture looked inviting in a cruel way, like a place built to lure curiosity. The spiral staircase visible through the windows implied ascent, progress, steps toward something. Yet it was empty. No guards. No workers. No tourists. The staircases were a promise that no one touched.

“The Tower itself is a place of trial, where people go in and come out strong. But that’s only reserved for those with true talent. So far, even after thousands of years, not even a hundred people have cleared it all yet.”

Ludwig realized the difficulty of the tower and its danger from that statement. A mere hundred after so many years wasn’t a big number.

A hundred was nothing. A hundred meant the Tower didn’t care about human ambition. It simply consumed it. The city’s existence around it suddenly made sense. This wasn’t a monument. This was a wound the Empire had built walls around.

“What about…” Ludwig thought, “If someone tried to destroy or damage it?” He asked.

“That has been attempted before. Several times, in fact. A few cults tried that, but the tower itself was able to ward off eight-tier magic as if it were nothing. And everyone that was responsible for those offenses was found dead the next morning in their dwellings. Ninth-tier mages thought they might be able to deal damage to the tower, but it wasn’t worth the risk.”

The Tower retaliated. That was the message. It didn’t defend like a wall defended. It punished like a predator punished. Ludwig kept his face calm, but internally, he filed it under ’dangerous entity with agency’. Not a structure. A thing.

“How about studying it?”

“It’s not possible; even approaching the tower to a certain degree forces the person inside it. So the empire created a large bastion around the tower to stop people from wandering aimlessly inside and losing their lives…”

Ludwig soon came to see the bastion the young man was talking about.

A large fortified wall that seemed to be at least a couple of stories high surrounded the tower. Guards were stationed around the wall, and not a single one was beyond or above it.

The wall wasn’t just a barrier. It was a line of discipline. A boundary where the Empire’s control ended and the Tower’s began. The guards here looked different from the gate men. They looked like men stationed near a disaster, eyes always scanning for the foolish, hands always ready to intercept someone who wandered too close without understanding.

“I’d like to tell you more, but it seems you’re heading there directly. I’m not allowed to get any closer than this,” the young man said.

The guide stopped as if an invisible leash had tightened around his throat. His grip on the book loosened slightly, relief and fear mixing on his face. Ludwig didn’t blame him. The Tower’s influence wasn’t a rumor here. It was a physical boundary that people respected.

Ludwig noticed that the tower itself and the wall were several dozen meters away from the closest building. And no one seemed to be getting anywhere near the tower.

Even the streets here felt intentionally empty, cleared space between civilization and the thing that ate memory. It made the Tower look even more dominant, rising from a circle of absence like a blade from a wound.

Ludwig nodded and moved ahead, “Thanks.” He said as he approached the tower.

One of the guards moved to intercept Ludwig.

“Halt.”

Ludwig tilted his head, “What is it?” he asked.

“Are you here to challenge the tower?”

“I thought you were already informed,” Ludwig asked.

“We are, but you must fill out a form.”

“A waiver?”

“More like a will,” the guard said.

Ludwig snorted, “No need, I got nothing to give after I die. And I’m sure the emperor would handle it.” Ludwig said.

“Sure,” the man turned his head to the rest of the guards, “Open the gate! A new challenger arrived!”

The guards next to the gate did as they were told, pulling a lever that made one of the walls blocking the way fall to the ground, revealing a long path forward.

The sound of stone shifting echoed briefly, and then there it was, the corridor of open space leading toward the Tower like a throat leading toward teeth. Ludwig could feel the air change slightly beyond the barrier, a faint pressure that made the hairs on a living man’s arms rise. He wasn’t living, but he still felt the wrongness in the way his perception tightened.

“Once you cross halfway, you’ll be forcefully taken inside the tower. Good luck, and Godspeed.”

The guard said.

Ludwig nodded and headed forward. Once he crossed the wall, the gate immediately rose up behind him, blocking everyone’s view.

The sound of the gate sealing shut cut off the city’s noise, leaving Ludwig alone with his footsteps and the Tower’s looming presence. No crowd. No guide. No witnesses. The Empire didn’t escort you into this. It simply allowed you to walk toward it.

Ludwig looked up; the tower from this nearness felt far too grand and magnificent. But inside it was a dangerous entity that might prove to be the most difficult challenge Ludwig had faced yet.

“Kaiser,” Ludwig muttered.

And immediately, the young black-haired man appeared. The Lich. No, the Living Lich manifested next to Ludwig.

“Ah, we’re here already…” he said as he looked up.

“Get inside the book now, we can’t have the tower think that we’re two different people.”

“Sure thing, Master…” the Lich said, and his body simply turned to dark smoke as he fused into the invisible codex on Ludwig’s hip.

“Now then…” Ludwig cracked his neck, “Let’s get this over with!”

Just as he took a step forward.

A notification popped up in front of him.