After breakfast (and rebooting Lupia), we all trooped down the stairwell to the ground floor. Tear paused on the stairs and pointed incredulously.

“Yeah, I improved the door. Do you like it?” I asked.

“Why the hell did you replace that dumb doormat with a bigger version?!”

I eyed the huge, excessively cheery ‘Welcome!’ mat. “Well, it would be a bit small if I left it as it was.”

“Don’t play dumb! You know exactly what I meant!”

I grinned widely and disappeared in a cloud of pink sparkles, reappearing in a similar cloud just in front of the door, pulling up my mask as I did so, small harmless bolts of pink electricity crackling off me, then stepped through the actuated obsidian mist of the doorway.

Once Lupia (who pointed at me and mumbled something about teleportation), and Tear (who kicked me in the shin then clutched her toes) had both emerged, I closed the door.

“’The Abyss Tower,’” Tear read the letters on the door. “Are you sure it shouldn’t be ‘Fool’s Tower?”

One glance at the towering monolith of light-devouring obsidian and that suggestion was declined.

“Why not, you’re a fool and it’s your tower,” the catgirl persisted.

“You live here too; you would be counted amongst the fools.”

Tear considered for a brief moment, then shook her head in acknowledgement. “If that’s the case, the name doesn’t fit very well then.”

I was just about to grab the cheeky catgirl when a hand landed gently on my shoulder. “Excuse me, a word please,” Vyra requested, then dragged me off without waiting for a reply. Actually dragged: my heels left twin furrows in the rapidly growing grass around my tower.

At some distance away from the others, spun me around and met my bemused eyes with his serious ones. I wondered what he was going to say.

“Are you trying to get us all killed?!” That, I was not expecting.

“What?”

“I suspected it yesterday when every monster we came across went straight for you before Stone intercepted them, and now I’m certain. You were wearing some kind of aggression increasing device, and since I can’t detect your aura at all now, does that mean you’ve removed it?”

I was floored. I hadn’t even considered that my armour’s aggro drawing effect could be projected through my aura, even when I’d supressed it as far as I could like yesterday. I supposed that since I’d suppressed my aura even further, down to nothing, the aggro drawing effect of my armour had been nullified along with it.

“Er, sort of. I’m sorry, I really hadn’t considered that my aura would carry the effect.” The dark elf nodded sharply, and turned to return to the others. “Out of curiosity, what does it feel like now?”

He turned back to me, eyes widening slightly. “What do you mean? You’re not-” he cocked his head to one side, then shook it, black-purple hair whipping wildly. “That’s- how are you doing that? It’s like you’re part of the background when I’m not looking at you, but when I even glance past you, you’re attention grabbing.” The assassin blinked twice. “That’s stupid. You aren’t stealthy and you aren’t outstanding. It’s like you’re trying and failing to be both. It’s pointless.”

“Thanks… I think?” Well, it seemed that my armour no longer projected the increased aggro effect out in my aura, but still retained it to direct senses.

Upon returning to the others, it was Lupia’s turn to pull me off to one side, but instead of a complaint, she passed me the Lucky Horseshoe. I was glad that she’d returned it of her own volition, it made me feel like I hadn’t misjudged her. I tucked the accessory away into my inventory, then we re-joined the adventurers who were starting to pack away their tents.

As they did so, I eyed my new door. There was something missing. It had been bugging me since the morning. I added a pair of Bast Statues, one on either side, flanking the door, their defence boosting buff appearing in the top left corner of my vision, but that wasn’t it. I ‘hmm’ed and ‘hah’ed, wandering back and forth in front of the door, but couldn’t think of it. Casting my mind further afield, I considered the Abyss Tower in its entirety. It was a bit empty, but fundamentally complet-

“My maker’s mark!” I triumphantly declared in realisation.

“Your what?” Tear questioned from where she’d been watching me pace. I turned to face her.

“A maker’s mark is a unique symbol that a craftsman will put on his or her work to show that it was them who made it. This is mine; it’s on my armour, my clothing, my weapons, everything I’ve made. It’s also on your Horseshoe Necklace.” The catgirl pulled it up to eye level and studied it closely. “On the back,” I pointed out.

She found it and held it up, getting a better look at the tiny silver design.

“So what made you choose this symbol?” she asked curiously.

“Well it’s quite simple. That’s my sword, and that’s my dragon.”

“That’s what your sword looks like? I’ve seen you kill a bunch of things, including with a sword, why haven’t I seen you use that one?”

“It... might be dangerous. For you, less so for me. I don’t exactly want to test if it is because you’d die in one hit.”

“...please don’t test it on me.”

After plenty of reassurances that I absolutely would not, and a bit of digging around in my inventory and locating my Architect’s Gizmo Pack, I had everything lined up.

“So anyway, everything I’ve made, excepting food-” I was interrupted by Tear asking about a half-dozen other things “-and everything particularly unimportant, has my maker’s mark on it. Except the Abyss Tower. Which is why I’m going to do it now. Karma! If you would-” the dragon shifted, laying his body on the ground between me and the adventurers, Tear, and Lupia.

I took a deep, stabilising breath, activated the a couple of the Gizmo Pack’s functions, turned on the ruler visual overlay, then drew my Zenith out from where I’d stashed it in the corner of my inventory away from my hotbar so I couldn’t accidentally instantly kill someone with it or something.

As the Pinnacle Blade dropped into my hand, the world seemed to pull back slightly. All sound paused for an instant, the almost palpable wave of danger pouring off the weapon washing over me. I took another deep breath, focusing my entire will on simply controlling the Zenith. This was no mere Zenith, no, this was the summation of the journey of Lyte, the craftsman, the fighter, the destroyer, the victor, the Terrarian. This weapon, in each of its myriad forms, had fought against and killed tens of thousands of bosses. This was a weapon used to kill a god. Multiple times. This was the Infinity+1 Sword.

Slowly, I brought the tip of the huge sword up, scoring a smooth line through the obsidian of the door. I barely had enough attention spare to check to see that the groove was being filled flush with pure silver and that it was being coated with Illuminant Paint. The Zenith’s point cut through the mana strengthened obsidian like a knife through butter, it took quite some careful effort to keep it moving at a steady depth. At length, the mark was complete and I pulled the Zenith back into my inventory, falling to the ground and breathing heavily.

“That was damn exhausting,” I half groaned, half laughed. My mind felt fuzzy around the edges.

I propped myself up on my elbows, and gazed at my work. There, on the doors, was my maker’s mark in bright silver inlay against abyssal obsidian, an inverted Zenith as though plunged into the ground, a Stardust Dragon coiled around and concealing it’s point.

“Lyte, are you alright in there?” Lupia’s concerned voice floated over the barricade of Karma’s body.

“Karma, if you could-” I made vague hand gestures. The massive dragon understood me perfectly and shifted back into its original position, allowing me to wave somewhat exhaustedly at the others.

“Hi guys! My brain feels like mush, how’ve you been?”

“Are you sure you alright?” Tear asked, concernedly. I grinned reassuringly at her and hopped up. This proved to be quite a bad idea.

“Urgh~ yeah, mostly. I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

“What were you doing? What- oh wow.” From the way her voice trailed off I assumed Lupia had spotted the doors.

The patterning of brilliant silver and pitch black was striking in and of itself, but that wasn’t all. Those lines contained the barest hint of the immense power and history of the Zenith belonging to the Terrarian named Lyte. And as such demanded awe.

Everyone’s slightly stunned reaction brought a genuine grin to my lips. I wobbled over to join them, then, driven by some impulse, continued up to the doors where I laid my hands on the silver, one hand on each door.

I let out a strangled “urk-” as the majority of my lifeforce and mana being sucked out instantly, somehow without disrupting my counterflow in the least. I collapsed backwards bonelessly. A groan and a couple weak coughs preceded a confused “What the hell?”

Now I was physically exhausted as well as mentally. Just great.

A few seconds and a bit of help from a concerned Tear and I was back on my feet, albeit unsteadily, just in time for the entire ground to shake slightly.

“Is it me, or-” This time the entire tower rumbled.

“Ok, now what?”

I looked up sharply as the entire tower rumbled even more violently. Great bolts of lightning shot out from the surface all across the tower, wreathing it in horizontal coils reminiscent of solar flares. Karma roared, the sound an almost physical force. The obsidian of the entire tower lit up like a magnesium flare, shining a brilliant blinding white. A solid wave of mana blasted outwards, drawn up from the river of mana deep underground. Karma roared again, and suddenly all was still.