The Community on Earth, just before the hundredth floor.

[Will the Community’s “Five Seconds of Silence” Truly Become Official?]

What began as a simple phrase on one online community quickly captivated users and has now ignited discussion across the entire internet. In an unexpected turn, the so-called “Five Seconds of Silence” has already reached the political sphere.

Lawmakers from both the ruling and opposition parties have voiced their admiration for Kwon Su-Hyeok, who is widely celebrated under the title “Light Su-Hyeok,” and his actions. Several politicians have gone so far as to remark that they were genuinely moved by his journey and are willing to give serious consideration to formalizing the idea.

This movement is not confined to domestic borders. Political figures across numerous countries are adopting similar positions, publicly praising Kwon Su-Hyeok’s accomplishments and expressing respect for the perseverance he displayed throughout the trials.

Of course, critical opponents also exist. With the Tower of Ordeal nearing its end and Kwon Su-Hyeok’s anticipated return approaching, some observers argue that this sudden wave of support may be influenced by political calculations. It’s particularly by this desire to appeal to citizens within their own nations who place their trust in him...

...

[Yo wtf! Is this actually happening?]

[Looking at it now, it kinda feels like it may?]

[Tbh, even if the government doesn’t make it official, companies will probably jump in first and it’ll end up as an annual event anyway.]

[ 😂 Yeah, the impact was unreal.]

[The whole planet literally froze for a few seconds! Of course, people are freaking out.]

[Proud of Korean internet! Proud of Korean internet! Proud of Korean internet! Proud of Korean internet!]

[But like... what if they just talk big and it doesn’t happen?]

[Oof idk?]

[Brb, going to burn down the National Assembly ✌️]

[Go ahead, don’t make it official~ I’ll just immigrate somewhere else~]

[LMAO.]

***

[Challenger Kwon Su-Hyeok has an indefinite amount of time to rest before the hundredth floor. Please take a rest.]

How long did I sleep?

It occurred to me the moment I opened my eyes that I wouldn’t be able to know. Without a timer to ground me, there was no precise way to determine the answer. Regardless, it felt as if I had slept for a very long while. Judging by the sensations my absurdly resilient physique was returning, I suspected I had been out for at least three full days—perhaps even longer.

Because of that, an almost dizzying clarity washed over me, a freshness so deep that it felt surreal. It was as if every lingering thought that normally clung to the corners of my mind had simply vanished. The last time I had experienced something like this was... far too long ago.

Of course, I had slept on the ninety-ninth floor.

Whenever I half gave up or tried to protect what remained of my sanity, I turned off my mind.

My circumstances were starkly different, however, and nothing was immediately weighing me down. I wasn’t referring to my anxiety about the next trial, either. Here, with unlimited time to myself, I could rest with an easy mind. Throughout the twenty years, there had always been unfinished business, and never enough time to deal with it.

Concerns about my other self, for instance.

All of that had disappeared now, and I had finally been able to drift into a deep, peaceful slumber.

I really don’t want to get up yet.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had enjoyed this kind of unburdened leisure. Even considering the floors before the ninety-ninth, I really hadn’t felt ready to relax. During my time in the tower, rest had always been another form of training. Now that I was lying on a proper bed, I even wondered whether this quiet stillness was the tower’s way of offering me a small measure of care.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about the forced isolation, but at the very least, the unlimited time appeared to be a deliberate act of kindness. Perhaps, after twenty years of suffering, it wanted me to rest without watching the clock.

Even from an objective perspective, the ninety-ninth floor had been mercilessly harsh. Setting my desire to socialize aside, it had lacked any sunlight. During the twenty years I spent training, not once had I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin.

At least the other worlds have had suns.

I needed sunlight for vitamin D, at least in principle.

The thought made me quietly chuckle. It hadn’t been particularly funny, but after spending so long unable to laugh on the ninety-ninth floor, perhaps my standards for humor had dropped. Even these small, pointless thoughts felt amusing simply because it had been so long since I had last allowed my mind to wander like this.

Of course, I didn’t mean I literally needed sunlight—I no longer relied on such things. Strictly speaking, it was more about the sensation, about the warmth sunlight carried.

After idling for quite some time, I finally got out of bed for a meal. I wasn’t planning to gorge myself the way I had yesterday, although I wasn’t about to settle for something careless or unsatisfying.

I ordered too much yesterday.

No matter how I looked at it, thirty dishes had been excessive. That made me think I should limit myself to just ten today, something simple yet indulgent in its own way. After taking the time to select a full course, I finished my meal and enjoyed a cup of coffee afterward. I had missed all of this dearly. These small comforts felt like memories returning in gentle waves.

“Aaaah...”

After finishing my food, I lay back down on the bed and savored the unhurried stillness. Unfortunately for me, it didn’t last long. I had slept deeply for several days since arriving in the waiting room, and although this relaxed pace was pleasant, something about it left me strangely uneasy.

It was a discomfort born from time itself—habit was terrifying. Somewhat counting the moments I had nearly given up, I had spent almost twenty years doing nothing but training. The years before that had been no different.

Staying idle felt nice, but doing it for too long made my limbs restless as if they were itching for something to do. A vague anxiety flickered somewhere inside me as well.

Is this what PTSD feels like?

Perhaps it would be different if I had someone to talk to. Time would have passed more easily if I had been able to speak openly about the emotions I had carried through those years. Even without involving divinity, exchanging words alone could offer comfort.

The tower didn’t care, though, and I remained alone.

Whenever I lay still and allowed myself to rest, familiar faces rose unbidden in my mind, making everything more difficult to bear.

“Damn it,” I murmured quietly out of frustration, and I finally pushed myself upright.

The door to the training room greeted me as if it had been eagerly awaiting me. Aside from soaking in the training hot springs, I hadn’t actually spent any time in there after the last trial. Regardless, I supposed I had rested long enough. I pulled my armor over my climbing suit, fastening each piece with practiced motions.

Yes. Resting had its place, but there were still things I needed to do.

***

[Challenger Kwon Su-Hyeok has an indefinite amount of time to rest before the hundredth floor. Please take a rest.]

Due to how much I had slept—or more specifically, how little I had moved—in the days leading up to my training, I made sure not to train recklessly. I wasn’t interested in pushing myself unnecessarily either.

Just in case, I attempted to summon the manifestation of my future self that the tower had created for the previous floor, but as expected, it didn’t work. After all, anything beyond a certain threshold had always been impossible.

Although resting a little at my current level wouldn’t dull my senses, I still approached the training with deliberate focus. Without summoning anyone, I practiced alone and steadily honed the insights I had gained on the ninety-ninth floor.

Roughly three days passed in that state. During the last bit of my training block, I devoted myself entirely to resting, allowing myself to settle into genuine stillness. Today marked the final day of that quiet rhythm.

Hmm.

Since things had gone more smoothly than I had expected, I no longer wanted to linger in the waiting room. Even counting the time I had spent asleep right after arriving, I had barely been here a week.

Well, I still have unlimited time.

I simply didn’t wish to continue training for the sake of training alone. People were waiting for me, and among them was someone I earnestly longed to see.

Naturally, my concerns about the next floor remained.

Even so... what is this feeling?

It was reminiscent of Sixth Sense and my instincts, and it was telling me that continuing my climb wouldn’t be disastrous. It wasn’t only that, though. The end of the tower lay just ahead, but finishing it didn’t mark the end of all my obligations. Although it appeared like a simple decision at first glance, I had weighed it for a long time.

Above all, I wanted to see Ha Hee-Jeong.

Resting alone wouldn't dissolve the mental fatigue I had accumulated on the ninety-ninth floor. The core of the issue lay deeper, and the only way to confront or escape it was to reach the end.

Truth be told, continuing to train any further would be unreasonable.

There was no way of knowing when my mind would falter again. If I let training consume me, just to master what the other me had shown me, who knew how long I would remain trapped in the waiting room?

To make matters more complex, time spent in the waiting room didn't reflect the outside world at all.

After checking every piece of my equipment, I lifted my gaze to the open air. Before asking to ascend to the next floor, my eyes drifted naturally toward the interior of the waiting room.

Right, this will be the last time.

I slowly let my gaze sweep through the space.

White wallpaper framed the antique furniture neatly arranged along it, every piece chosen and positioned by my own hand. The post I had seen around the twenty-fourth had compelled me to decorate the room myself. Despite my pride in the arrangement, Ha Hee-Jeong had remarked that my aesthetic sense was hopeless and hadn’t liked it very much. Looking at it now, I was still more than content with my choices.

I had spent a long time here. Even though I had spent more time away from this place than in it, countless memories remained. I had lain on that bed, eaten in this room, and exchanged countless messages with Ha Hee-Jeong.

My gaze paused on the bed.

Ah, I almost forgot about this.

Though inexpensive in the grand scheme of things, the bed had required a considerable amount of achievement points. Nothing excelled at restoring fatigue quite like it. It sounded exaggerated, but sleeping without that bed felt nearly impossible.

Even if I left everything else behind, this was the one thing I had to take. Perhaps something better awaited me later, but there was no reason to abandon it now.

“Mung-chi.”

Heeding my call, Mung-chi immediately swallowed the bed.

Thinking back, having Mung-chi at my side had been more comforting than I realized. From the ninety-ninth floor until now, only Soulbound’s spirits and Mung-chi had remained with me the entire time.

Even though Mung-chi acted like an animal and our communication was limited, its presence alone had offered quiet solace. Come to think of it, throughout my entire ascent, Mung-chi was the companion who had stayed with me the longest. Even Doppy had departed upon reaching the ninetieth floor.

Its help is convenient, but it is time for it to go.

Once I left the hundredth floor, I wanted to release Mung-chi. To be honest, I had kept it bound and working by my side purely for my own convenience. Put plainly, that made me the selfish one. I saved others while keeping Mung-chi restrained.

Then again, I had also brought Mung-chi out of the tower, where it otherwise would have been consumed. Either way, even if I wanted to release it now, I couldn’t. I would have to ask Mung-chi for its opinion later.

After taking one final walk around the training room, I offered a quiet farewell to the waiting room in my heart.

I lifted my gaze to the empty air above. “Send me to the hundredth floor.”

Just like the moment from nearly twenty years ago when I had stepped into the ninety-ninth floor, a message appeared before me.

[There is still time remaining. The Coming Dawn, do you truly wish to enter the hundredth floor? This choice cannot be undone.]

I wasn’t entirely sure how to feel. In the past, I would have found such messages irritating, but now that I was staring at a notification listing the hundredth floor, I felt a trembling anticipation. It swelled quietly in my chest, a restrained pride threaded with something deeper, mingling emotions that resisted simplicity.

Even so, I planned to answer the same as before, unwavering and firm. I had no intention of turning back.

“Yes.”

My vision dimmed, and the familiar sensation of floating wrapped gently around me. However, unlike before, the weightlessness felt warm and almost affectionate. It was a sensation I had never experienced. Or perhaps, one I had felt once, long ago.

A memory surfaced, clear and unmistakable—the tower’s gentle voice wishing me good luck as I first stepped onto the first floor.

Immediately afterward, a force reminiscent of causality enveloped me, soft, inevitable, and indescribable, drawing me forward. Somewhere distant and unreachable, I felt myself being carried. Within that drifting sensation, a new message refreshed.

[Welcome to the hundredth floor of the Tower of Ordeal: The Coming Dawn.]

That was all. No message followed explaining the nature of the trial. As the message faded, so too did the floating sensation.

The world brightened, revealing a vast plain washed in sunlight. I stared blankly at the unfolding landscape. It was beautiful. I had longed for sunlight in the waiting room.

Did the tower sense my thoughts?

As my eyes narrowed instinctively beneath the brilliant light I hadn’t seen for so long, I sensed another presence across the plain.

I turned toward it.

Cho-Yeon stood there, regarding me with warm and gentle eyes. “It’s good to see you again, the Coming Dawn.”