On the wall opposite the door, a hidden panel had opened up to reveal the final switch. I was too rattled and paranoid to go for it right away, though. For all I knew, this could be more illusion. I didn’t KNOW that the time was really up. But after counting to 1,000 in my head, during which time absolutely nothing else happened, I figured either it really was over or I was simply trapped in an illusion world forever.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I pulled the switch. “Holy crap,” I muttered, “so much for nothing being worse than the Trial of Pain.”

But I’d done it. All eight of the Sanctuary’s tests were behind me. Something was still bothering me though—something the last trial had reminded me of. “Why did that guy warn me about this place? I mean, sure the trials were tough, especially those two, but they were hardly as hopeless as they seemed to think.

Unless...it’s not over.”

I emerged back into the central chamber once more, and went over to the great door. It was not yet opened, but all eight lines flowing to its center from the trial rooms were active.

[You have surmounted all the trials, proving yourself a worthy Guardian of Fire. However, before the Sanctuary Core can be rebuilt, the Desecrator of Fire must be defeated and cast out of the Sanctuary.]

[Are you prepared?]

At this point, that was a good question. Physically, I was likely to be as prepared as I was going to be. My stamina was totally fresh, and the mana reserves in my suit were at about 2/3rds--just about the only trial that had taxed them was the fight against the giant magma golem.

As for if I was prepared really, I couldn't know. It was a safe bet that the Desecrator of Fire was the person who had originally disabled the Fire Sanctuary. There was every reason to think that beyond that door, there was a member, maybe even an officer, of the mysterious, ridiculously powerful organization waiting for me.

Was I ready for THAT? Like hell. But I couldn't turn back now.

Yes.

The grand door began to open. And a door like that doesn’t open quietly. Curiously, the giant orb was actually moved up to the ceiling, where it moved further into the room beyond on what I presumed was a track for it. Maybe it had a function beyond decoration that I’d discover later.

I entered the room cautiously. It was huge, bigger than the arena I’d fought the Magma Golem in, with a large structure in the center that reached from floor to ceiling that I presumed was the core or at least what would house it. I’d intended to look around very carefully for any sign of this “Desecrator,” but I didn’t need to. He was right out in the open, directly in front of the structure.

He was tall—I'm not that tall myself, but he easily had an entire foot on me—with tan-dark skin, dreadlocks, and orange triangular glasses—the kind some called “Kamina shades” which concealed his eyes. He was a humanoid rather than human, given away by strange forehead markings and vertically pointed ears. He was dressed in a hideously clashing shiny orange and gold-yellow thing that nevertheless I had to recognize as combat suit equipment like mine. When he met my eyes, he sneered.

“Kept me waiting, didn’t ya? I don’t blame ya, though. You’re already quaking in your boots just at the thought of facing me. After all, I’m a lot tougher than that errand-boy Glanes you met before.”

So before I burn you to a crisp, you may as well tell me...Lheticus. Why are you even here, anyway? Why do you give a crap whether or not the safe zones come back? Why risk yourself like this?”

I played along, to give myself time to Enemy Scan him as well as time to think on what my first move should be. “Because...because it’s not right.”

“Oh yeah? And what ain’t right?”

“Those safe zones were what allowed people who were ripped from their former lives into the Tower like I was to regain something like peaceful lives. You people, whoever you are, took that away from them—and for what? To destroy the Federation? As if the AFL would be any better if they took their place!”

He shook his head and made “tsk tsk” noises. “You’re more clueless than I thought—and that was a low bar to begin with. People who really do want nothing more than to live their lives in peace...they don’t end up here. The Tower sees to that from the moment it takes ‘em. Kills ‘em way before they get as far as you have.

Nah, what the safe zones really gave people, and what people really want, is an easy ride. They wanna sit on their butts and live it up instead of bettering themselves. Although, there are exceptions—and I’d count you among them, no doubt. Even with that helmet hiding your face, I can see it in you—a determination to keep on climbing, to never stop. Those fatass Federation slobs don’t deserve to have someone like you at their beck and call. They’re not...qualified, like we are.”

My poker face failed me. “That’s right,” he said, tapping his shades, “these babies can tell that kind of thing. And that’s very interesting—as far as we knew, none of the rest of the little band the pro-fed factions put together have what you got. We didn’t even know you had one till just now.

So whaddaya say? How ‘bout you screw restoring the Fire Sanctuary and join us? With the Syndicate’s support, you can become stronger than you ever dreamed of. You’ll become someone who can do anything. Earn your way up the ranks, and you’ll practically be one of the rulers of the Tower! You could be one of the guys who really call the shots. Yeah?”

My Enemy Scan of him was a rather more compelling argument than his sales pitch:

Tower Born

Floor Cleared: 23rd

Class: Blazing Vulcanian Adept (Gold)

Race: Enhanced Cryllian I

Strength: 124

Speed: 181

Stamina: 150

Sturdiness: 194

Mana Pool: 220

Intuition: 128

Magic Power: 265

Regeneration: 201

Even with the boosts from my major evolution, I was still way outmatched in everything but Strength, Stamina, and Intuition. His Magic Power of 265 was particularly terrifying, since it meant that stat—my most important stat—had a doubling effect applied that mine didn’t. Not to mention two other of his stats also had that going for them.

Still, I couldn’t just give up. Mewi would never want to join these people, even just to save our skins. I needed to come up with a plan, a solid opening gambit.

“And what about Mewi?”

“Ehhh, If you really insist, we can help him get qualified too. The two of you can be the start of a full team.”

While I kept him talking, I started casting Immolate. He noticed, and came at me while still finishing his sentence—but I’d still distracted him just enough to get it off. “Pretty spicy shot,” he said, though he didn’t seem much affected by it, “this might actually be fun.”