As I step through the next gate, my heart pounds with anticipation.

  The puzzles.

  Out of everything in the Spire, puzzles are what I studied the most. Monsters and traps are dangerous, but puzzles? They’re unpredictable. Each one is a test of wit, demanding intelligence, quick thinking, and sometimes a bit of luck.

  This room feels different from the others. The walls press in close, the space tight and claustrophobic. A single corridor stretches ahead, leading to a door at the far end. No turns. No branching paths. Just a straight shot forward. But I know better than to think it’s that simple.

  I pull out my notebook, flipping through the pages filled with notes and sketches. My eyes scan over everything I’ve recorded.

  Symbols on the ground. Small holes in the walls. I’ve studied hundreds of puzzles, but nothing about this one looks familiar.

  "Hmm… probably a trap corridor," I mutter under my breath, skimming through my notes again.

  Lever puzzle? No.

  Star puzzle? No.

  Music puzzle? No.

  None of them match.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  That doesn’t mean I’ll stop.

  I tuck my notebook away and crouch, grabbing a small rock from the floor. If I don’t know the puzzle, I’ll have to test it myself.

  With a flick of my wrist, I toss the rock forward. The moment it touches the ground, the symbols light up in a deep crimson glow.

  Not good.

  A sharp click echoes through the corridor, and suddenly, dozens of thin spikes shoot out from the holes in the walls, stabbing across the path. The rock is instantly shredded into dust.

  I take a slow breath. At least I didn’t walk into that blindly.

  Stepping closer, I examine the glowing symbols. They pulse in a pattern, shifting from one symbol to another. The timing isn’t random. It’s a sequence. A code.

  So that’s the puzzle. I have to step on the correct symbols while avoiding the wrong ones.

  I watch for a few moments, memorizing the order. Then, I take my first step forward.

  The moment my foot lands, another set of symbols light up. My body tenses, ready to jump back, but the spikes don’t come. I exhale. Safe.

  One step down. A dozen more to go.

  Slowly, carefully, I move forward, matching my steps to the pattern. One wrong move could be the end, but I stay focused.

  Five steps.

  Ten.

  Fifteen.

  Almost there. The exit is just ahead.

  Then, the pattern changes.

  My next step should be safe, but the moment I press my foot down, the ground trembles. The symbols all flash red.

  I made a mistake.

  The walls groan as a new mechanism activates. A deep clunk vibrates through the air, and suddenly, the entire ceiling starts to descend.

  No time.

  I break into a sprint, dodging left and right as spikes shoot out, barely missing me. The ceiling is dropping faster than I expected. Too fast.

  My lungs burn, my heart pounds, but I push forward. The exit is right there. Just a few more feet—

  A spike fires straight toward my chest.

  I don’t have time to dodge.

  At the last second, I throw myself forward, hitting the ground hard as the spike grazes past my shoulder. Pain flares through me, but I don’t stop. I roll, push off the ground, and lunge for the door.

  The moment I cross the threshold, the ceiling slams down behind me with a deafening crash. Dust and debris scatter across the floor.

  For a few seconds, I just lie there, breathing hard.

  That was too close.

  Slowly, I push myself up, wincing at the sting in my shoulder. Nothing serious. I’ll heal it later.

  The room ahead is quiet. Another set of massive black doors stand before me, waiting.

  I made it.

  I brush the dust off my corset and straighten up. No time to rest.

  Without hesitation, I step forward.

  The next floor awaits.