Byron gathered everyone the next day.

He stood on top of a crate near the center of the camp, broad shoulders squared, his deep voice carrying well enough that even the ones hanging back near the outer fires could hear him.

"We’ve waited long enough," he said. "From today, in one week, we move against the tower. All of us."

The words dropped hard into the camp.

A boy near one of the shelters let out a breath like he had been holding it for days. "Finally. We’ve already waited a whole week for this."

Someone else answered from farther back, his voice rougher. "And what exactly changes in one more week? The black-haired girl still hasn’t said what’s inside."

That opened the floodgate.

Voices rose at once.

"We can’t just keep rotting here."

"And if we go in blind, we die."

"What’s the difference? Stay longer and we die here."

A few nodded, others looked away. A few had already started regretting that Byron had called everyone together at all.

Then the gray-haired boy from the entrance stepped forward, gray irises fixed on Byron with the confidence of someone who believed fear made him wiser than the rest.

"It’s impossible," he said. "It’s still too dangerous."

Byron stared down at him from the crate. "Too dangerous? You think waiting here changes that? Or do you expect the Breach to open again out of pity?"

The gray-haired boy didn’t flinch. "If we enter, people die. You all know what happened to that girl." He threw a hand toward the edge of camp, where the graves lay beyond sight. "Look at her. She didn’t even come to this meeting. She’s probably crying at her friends’ graves right now. That’s what the tower does."

That twisted the crowd again.

Neo stayed quiet. Saying anything here would only throw a torch into dry grass. He watched instead.

Byron’s jaw tightened. "And you think five people can keep forty from acting forever?"

The gray-haired boy laughed once, without humor. "Do you think you have forty?" He turned enough to gesture at the camp around him. "How many of them truly want to enter? How many are willing to die because you gave a speech on a crate?"

He was right, and everyone there knew it. Some had already stiffened at Byron’s announcement. Others stood with their arms folded, saying nothing, which was answer enough. Fear had split the camp long before this gathering. Now it only had a voice.

"We’re not your soldiers," one girl muttered from the side.

"And I’m not asking you to be," Byron shot back. "I’m asking whether you want to leave this place alive."

The gray-haired boy replied before anyone else could. "And I’m saying your plan gets people killed."

No one cheered for him, but plenty didn’t argue either.

The meeting broke apart not with resolution, but with muttering, half-formed clusters, and the same problem now laid bare in the open. Roughly a third of the camp wanted no part of the tower. With the gray-haired boy’s group included, it was close to twenty against the idea outright. The rest were divided between those willing to try and those willing to let someone else decide for them.

Byron climbed down from the crate with his mouth set hard.

Neo’s group drifted toward him soon after, along with a broad-shouldered boy from Byron’s side and a girl with cropped hair who had stood near him through the whole argument without speaking once.

"This complicates things," Byron said under his breath. "We can’t start a war among ourselves before we even touch the tower. People are scared. And without information, fear wins."

"It’s not only fear," Marika said. "It’s panicking. Some of them already look half-defeated."

Snot shoved his hands into his pockets. "Can’t blame them entirely. ’Big tower, giant thing upstairs, lots of dying’ isn’t exactly a comforting briefing."

The cropped-hair girl let out a dry breath. "That’s still better than no briefing at all."

Neo had stayed quiet long enough.

"The problem is only at the top," he said.

The little circle around Byron went still.

Neo continued before anyone could waste time reacting. "The tower itself isn’t special. The boss is. Three meters tall. Six arms. Six swords."

That silence deepened.

It was Alice who broke it. "How do you know?"

Neo answered without hesitation. "I spoke to the girl."

Snot turned his head sharply toward him. Something in Neo’s blood must have shifted, because Snot’s expression changed along with it. "You talked to her?"

"I pressured her a little," Neo said. "She finally said something useful."

Snot’s mouth flattened. "Is she alright?"

Marika looked no happier. "What exactly do you mean by pressured?"

Neo gave them the truth because dressing it up would only waste time. "I pushed where it hurt and made her talk."

"That’s a disgusting way to say it," Marika said.

Max had been quiet through most of this, but not now. "You should’ve had more tact."

Neo looked between them and felt irritation rise.

"Really?" he said. "You think playing the good person would’ve worked? Byron’s been here for weeks and got nothing. Everyone else gave her space, pity, time, silence— whatever made them feel decent. It did nothing." His voice dropped, harder now. "Someone had to be the bad one. I don’t care if that ends up being me."

Snot clicked his tongue. "That doesn’t make it clean."

"I’m not trying to be clean."

Marika folded her arms. "That girl lost her whole group, her friends Neo."

"And now we know what killed them," Neo replied. "Would you rather I left her alone so everyone else could walk up there blind?"

Max held his gaze. "You still need to apologize."

Neo said nothing.

That was answer enough.

Byron rubbed a hand over his face and exhaled. He didn’t like it. That much showed plainly. But in the end, he nodded once.

"The method was ugly," he said. "I won’t praise that. But the result helps all of us." His voice turned firmer. "Thank you, Neo."

The broad-shouldered boy beside him gave Neo a dubious look, as if he still hadn’t decided whether that thanks was deserved. The cropped-hair girl didn’t speak, though something in her expression eased now that the tower had shape again instead of only dread.

Byron straightened. "It’s late. I’ll speak to the camp again tomorrow. With this, some minds may change."

"Alright," Neo said.

The meeting broke there.

Night came again over the camp, heavier than the one before. Snot and Max fell asleep quickly enough once they were back inside the hut. Neo lasted longer. Not because he couldn’t sleep this time. Because Max’s words kept scraping at him.

You still need to apologize.

He hated that the sentence had stayed.

In the end, he got up and slipped outside.

The camp had quieted. A few coals still glowed low in the dark. Byron’s huts stood in rough lines under the tower’s shadow, and beyond them, past the edge of the last weak firelight, the graves waited in the same patch of ground as before.

She was there.

The black-haired girl sat by them again, knees drawn close, smaller somehow in the dark than she had looked the night before.

Neo walked over and stopped a few steps away.

"Sorry," he said. "According to my colleagues, I was maybe a bit too harsh yesterday."

She startled hard enough that her shoulders jumped. She hadn’t heard him approach. For a second she looked ready to bolt.

Then she recognized him.

"No..." Her voice came out quieter than the night around them. "You were right. I was being stubborn."

Neo grimaced faintly. "I don’t think so. Honestly, I probably might went too far."

’Although I don’t really think I’ve done anything wrong.’ The words felt awkward in his mouth. He let them sit there anyway.

"I know what it’s like to lose someone close," he added.

His fingers brushed the ring hanging from the chain at his neck without him thinking about it. The metal rested against his skin. His mother’s last gift. The last thing of her he still had.

The girl noticed the movement, but said nothing.

Neo didn’t stay long after that. He hadn’t come for a conversation. Only the apology.

He gave a short nod and turned away from the graves.

Toward the tower.

Its white stone rose through the dark like something the Breach itself had decided to keep untouched by rot. The main entrance was watched. That route was useless for what he wanted.

’Fine,’ he thought, stopping near the base and lifting his head toward the higher walls. ’Time to sneak in.’

A faint line of pale light still cut through one section far above, barely visible unless someone knew where to look.

Neo’s mouth twitched.

’I’ve sneaked into enough places back in Zone 0. So what’s one giant white tower full of Soul Beasts?’

The thought was pure sarcasm.

’Nothing new.’