Aurora’s never ending parabola

I died. Woke up somewhere worse. Now I have to fight my way down, or the world burns up.

The Plateau isn’t heaven. It’s not hell either. It’s something in between—five hundred levels of monsters, madness, and stories designed to kill you.

I didn’t get a system. No stat screen. No “chosen one” perks. Here, power doesn’t drop—it’s earned. Through pain. Through pressure. Through breaking and bleeding and getting back up anyway.

Every floor is worse than the last.

And if I don’t clear them? They rise.