It was the day before the incursion into the tower, and the camp had spent every hour since the discovery squeezing whatever they could from the place.

The first floor was harmless. The second was a gift. Once that truth spread, people threw themselves at it with the hunger of survivors who had been starved of certainty for too long.

Day and night, awakened after awakened entered, killed, climbed, came back down, and went in again until the whole routine turned into something close to an industry built out of desperation.

That ruined Neo’s plan.

He had wanted the nights for himself. Quiet hours, fewer eyes, easier movement, more chances to keep climbing without the rest of the camp sticking their noses into it. He had managed that for a while, but only for a while.

Once everyone started flooding the tower at all hours, there was no room left for that kind of arrangement. In the end, he had not reached Vein Core. He was stuck in Heart Core with the final push waiting for them the next morning, which was irritating, though not disastrous.

’Nothing to do about it. They wouldn’t agree to delay it any longer anyway. Everyone wants out of this place. We’ve been trapped inside this Breach for almost a month, and I’m getting poorer by the day. Not that I’ll complain too much. I’ll probably rise before we reach the boss floor.’

He lay on his back inside the hut with his hands behind his head, staring at the roof as if there might be something useful written in the old wood. This time he was not going anywhere. No slipping out, no late-night detours, no quiet little schemes tucked between other people’s sleep.

He had already advanced a great deal in the last few days even without that. Alice was close to Vein Core as well. Most of the awakened who had been strong enough to keep farming without getting themselves killed had gained a ridiculous amount from the tower. Nearly everyone who went in consistently was now brushing against Vein Core or had at least swallowed more than two hundred souls along the way.

’Come to think of it... are the gray-haired bastards really already in Vein Core? Honestly, it sounds insane. The amount of Soul Cores they could gather with a place like that...’

That group had not escaped the consequences either. The camp had tolerated fear, confusion, rationing, even selfishness when things were bleak enough, but this was different. Once everyone understood the truth, once it became obvious those five had hoarded the tower for themselves and kept the rest in the dark to fatten their own progress, the camp made its decision.

They were not thrown out, since no one wanted that mess on the eve of the final assault, but they were barred from the tower. Completely. They were not allowed to set a foot near the entrance anymore. That privilege had ended. They had squeezed enough out of it already.

Tomorrow morning, the final incursion would begin.

The camp felt different because of that. No one had to say it out loud for it to show. The mood had thickened over the last day, pulled tight by the same image living in everybody’s head: the final boss seated on the throne, unmoving, waiting as though it had all the time in the world and knew they would come to it sooner or later.

Neo, Snot, and the black-haired girl had already explained what waited above as best they could. The Vagabonds. The structure of the upper levels. The boss. The room. The pressure of the place. Even the ones pretending to be brave had dropped the act. The last climb would look nothing like the farming below, and everyone in the camp could feel it.

Neo closed his eyes not long after.

He needed the sleep. Proper sleep. The kind that doesn’t come in scraps between movement, caution, and the habit of keeping part of himself awake at all times.

After all the nights he had slipped out, disappeared, and done whatever he felt like doing while the others snored, his body had earned one honest rest. Every living thing had a limit. Human bodies did not run well forever on pride and bad decisions.

In another hut, five people sat close enough to keep their voices low without risking the words carrying through the walls.

"So we’re really going to stay still and do nothing?" a young man asked, the frustration in his voice too blunt to hide.

The gray-haired boy sat opposite him with his back against the wall, his expression dark and controlled in that way Neo already disliked on sight.

"No," he said. "I have a plan. We’ll do something."

The young man leaned forward. "They’ve taken our place."

Gray hair gave a slow nod. "They’ve taken our tower. We reached it first. We learned it first. We’re the ones who know that place best, and we’re the ones who understand that boss."

Another one in the hut let out a humorless breath. "At least the love birds didn’t die for nothing."

That drew a colder smile from the gray-haired boy.

"Exactly. Thanks to them, we know more than the others do. That boss has more faces than they think. Let them charge in first. Let the boss deal with them. Once enough of them are dead, we go back to our old method and keep taking power the right way."

Morning came soon after Neo finally drifted off.

He closed his eyes, time moved, and when he opened them again the dim light of morning had already slipped through the cracks of the hut.

He pushed himself upright and rolled his shoulders once, feeling the difference a full night had made. His limbs answered cleanly, lighter than they had in days. Around him, the camp had already begun to stir. Quiet steps outside. The low murmur of people speaking more softly than usual. Metal shifting. Cloth. Weapons checked one last time.

Neo went through what he had with the care of someone who did not trust luck enough to skip a single step. The orb manifested in his hand at his call, smooth and dark for a breath before changing under his fingers. It twisted into Gravebite first, the shape falling into place with the ease of something that had already learned where it lived. A thought later, it became the sword. The transition was clean, obedient to his will without hesitation.

Good.

Vagabond’s Rag was ready as well, waiting to be called if he needed it. Between that, the shifting relic, and what his body could do now, he had enough to walk into the tower without feeling naked.

He rose, adjusted his clothes, and stepped outside.

The camp was awake in full.

More than fifty awakened would be heading for the tower that morning. Some stood in small groups checking weapons or speaking in low voices. Others kept to themselves, saving what they had for the climb ahead. No one wore the kind of face that came before something easy. It was the expression people carried when fear had been pressed flat by necessity and left there overnight.

Neo took one slow breath and let it out.

Heart Core was not ideal. Vein Core would have been better. More strength never arrived at the wrong time. But that thought had already been chewed through enough.

Today was the day.

If things went well, they would finally leave this Breach behind.

If they did not, the tower would decide how many of them deserved to see another morning.

Neo started walking toward it with everything ready at his side.