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"Jace."
The voice came from inside the tower. Small. Young. Like a kid who'd been waiting too long in the dark.
"Don't." Mina's hand locked around my wrist before I could move. Her fingers were ice cold, and when I looked down, I saw blood seeping through the bandage on her arm. Fresh. Dark. "Don't answer it."
"It knows my name," I said.
"That's why you don't answer."
The door stood open maybe two feet. Just enough to see a slice of the inside. No lights. No movement. Just black, and somewhere in that black, a kid who shouldn't exist.
"Jace, please." The voice again. Closer now. "I've been waiting so long."
Mina's grip tightened until I felt her nails dig in. She was shaking. Not fear. Pain. The kind that made your vision white out if you let it.
"You're bleeding," I said.
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
"Doesn't matter." She pulled me back a step, then another. Her breath came short and fast. "We leave. Right now. We seal this place and we leave."
"With what? You got a truck full of concrete in your pocket?"
"Jace—"
"That thing knows my name. It opened the door without me touching it. You think walking away is going to fix that?"
She didn't answer. Just stared at the open door like it was a mouth waiting to swallow us both.
I pulled free. Not rough. Just enough.
"Stay here," I said.
"No."
"Then follow me. But I'm going in."
I moved toward the door. Slow. Each step felt like pushing through water. The lines under my skin burned hotter the closer I got, and the pull I'd felt all night turned into a hook buried deep in my chest, dragging me forward whether I wanted it or not.
"Jace, stop." Mina's voice cracked. "You don't know what's in there."
"Neither do you."
"I know enough."
I stopped at the threshold. Close enough to feel the cold air spilling out. It smelled like rust and old stone and something else. Something sweet and wrong, like fruit left too long in the heat.
"Then tell me," I said.
She didn't.
"Tell me, Mina."
"It's a trap," she said finally. "The tower doesn't open for people. It opens for pieces. You're a piece. And if you go in there, you're not coming back out the same."
"Maybe I don't want to come back out the same."
Her breath hitched. For a second, I thought she'd grab me again. Pull me back. But she just stood there, one hand pressed against her bleeding arm, the other hanging at her side like she'd forgotten what to do with it.
"You don't mean that," she said quietly.
"I don't know what I mean. I don't know who I am. I don't know why this city's power grid is burning holes in my head or why a dead building knows my name." I looked back at her. "But you do. Don't you?"
She didn't answer.
"Mina."
"I know pieces," she said. "Not the whole thing. Not enough to save you if you go in there."
"Then come with me."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I already did." Her voice went flat. Dead. "Three years ago. And I barely made it out."
That stopped me.
She looked at the door, and for the first time since I met her, I saw something other than control in her face. Fear. Real fear. The kind that left scars you couldn't see.
"I went in with five people," she said. "I came out alone. The tower takes what it wants. And it doesn't give it back."
I wanted to ask what it took. Who those five people were. But the kid's voice came again before I could.
"Jace. I'm cold."
Mina flinched like she'd been slapped.
"It's mimicking," she said quickly. "It pulls voices out of your head. Things you remember. Things you want. It's not real."
"Then why do you look like you've seen a ghost?"
She didn't answer.
I turned back to the door. The dark inside seemed deeper now. Thicker. Like it was made of something more than just the absence of light.
"Last chance," I said. "You coming or not?"
"Jace, please." Her voice broke. "Don't make me go back in there."
I looked at her. Really looked. The blood on her arm. The way she held herself like she was one wrong move away from falling apart. The way her eyes locked on that open door like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.
And I realized something.
She wasn't just afraid of the tower.
She was afraid of what I'd find inside.
"You know what's in there," I said slowly. "You know what it wants."
"I know what it takes," she said. "That's not the same thing."
"Then tell me."
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because you won't believe me."
"Try me."
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. And then she said the last thing I expected.
"It takes the person you used to be. And it gives you back the person you're supposed to become."
I stared at her.
"What the hell does that mean?"
"It means you go in as Jace Cheng, broke fixer with a debt and a death wish. And you come out as something else. Something the city needs. Something the tower made."
"And the five people who went in with you?"
"They came out as something too." Her voice went quiet. "Just not anything human."
The air between us went cold.
"Mina."
"I'm sorry," she said. "I should've told you before. I should've—"
"Shut up."
She stopped.
I looked at the door. At the dark. At the place where the kid's voice had come from.
"If I don't go in," I said, "what happens?"
"The door stays open. The lines keep breaking. And in three days, maybe four, the whole city's grid collapses. Everyone with a线 in their body dies screaming."
"And if I do go in?"
"I don't know," she said. "Maybe you close it. Maybe you make it worse. Maybe you disappear and I never see you again."
"Great options."
"I know."
I looked at her one more time. At the blood. At the fear. At the way she stood between me and the door like she could still stop me if she tried hard enough.
"Stay here," I said.
"Jace—"
"I mean it. If I'm not out in ten minutes, you run. You seal this place. You do whatever you have to do to keep it closed."
"I'm not leaving you."
"Yes, you are."
I stepped through the door before she could argue.
The dark swallowed me whole.
For a second, there was nothing. No sound. No light. No sense of up or down. Just black and the smell of rust and the feeling of falling without moving.
Then the lines under my skin flared white-hot, and I saw it.
The inside of the tower wasn't a room. It was a map. A massive, three-dimensional grid that stretched up and out in every direction, each line glowing the same electric blue I'd been seeing all night. And at the center of it all, standing on a platform made of light, was a kid.
Maybe eight years old. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Barefoot.
Wearing the same jacket I had on right now.
He looked up at me and smiled.
"Hi, Jace," he said. "I've been waiting for you."
Behind me, I heard Mina scream my name.
And then the walls lit up.
Not the grid. The walls. Old mirrors, cracked and tarnished, mounted in a circle around the platform. And in every single one of them, I saw the same thing.
A younger version of me. Standing right behind where Mina and I had been a second ago.
Watching us.
Waiting.", "tail_summary_cn": "Jace不顾Mina的恐惧与哀求踏入塔内，发现塔内部是一个巨大的三维能量线网格。中心站着一个八岁左右的孩子，穿着和Jace一模一样的夹克。孩子说他一直在等Jace。身后Mina尖叫着喊Jace的名字。这时，四周墙上破旧的镜子突然亮起——每一面镜子里都映出年轻版的Jace，站在Mina和Jace刚才所在的位置后方，注视着他们。", "character_state": { "Jace Cheng": "震惊与困惑中。刚进入塔内，看到穿着相同衣服的孩童版自己，以及镜中年轻版的自己。对自己的过去和身份产生更深的怀疑。", "Mina Wen": "极度恐惧与痛苦中。手臂流血，拼命阻止Jace进塔但失败。透露三年前她曾带五人进塔但只有她一人活着出来。在Jace进塔后尖叫着喊他的名字。" } }