The gate to Floor 20 opened like a wound.

  The massive archway of hardened tissue split down the center, the two halves peeling back with a wet, organic sound that made Elias's stomach turn. Beyond the threshold lay darkness, not the dim red glow of the First Vein or the soft blue of standard bioluminescence, but true darkness, absolute and hungry.

  The Dermis Warden had retreated through the gate. It was waiting for them inside.

  "Together," Elias said, gripping his spear. "Stay close."

  Mira nodded, her knife ready, her face pale but determined. Lira hovered behind them both, her flickering form casting the only light in the immediate area.

  They stepped through.

  The arena revealed itself in stages.

  First came the sound, a deep, rhythmic pounding that Elias felt in his bones before he heard it with his ears. It was a heartbeat, impossibly loud, emanating from somewhere above them. The sound was so powerful that it seemed to synchronize with his own pulse, forcing his heart to match its rhythm.

  Then came the light.

  Bioluminescent organs flickered to life along the walls, their glow revealing the space in fragments. A circular chamber, perhaps two hundred feet in diameter. Walls that curved upward into a domed ceiling, the surface covered in pulsing tissue that contracted with each beat of the massive heart-sound. The ceiling itself seemed alive, a vast membrane of muscle and vessel that was the source of the thunderous rhythm.

  And the floor.

  The floor was covered in pools of blood.

  Not puddles, pools, some of them ten feet across, their surfaces dark and still, scattered across the arena like mirrors reflecting nothing. The blood was old, Elias could tell, accumulated over years, perhaps decades, from countless Climbers who had faced what waited in this chamber and failed.

  "My God," Mira breathed.

  The Dermis Warden stood at the center of the arena.

  It was different here, in its domain, than it had appeared at the gate. The shadows had hidden its true nature, made it seem larger, more monstrous. But the reality was somehow worse.

  The creature was fifteen feet tall, smaller than Elias had estimated, but no less terrifying for its reduced size. Its body was humanoid in basic shape, bipedal, with two arms and two legs arranged in familiar proportions. But that was where any resemblance to humanity ended.

  The Warden had no skin.

  Its entire body was exposed muscle, glistening and raw, the fibers visible as they contracted and relaxed with each movement. Tendons stood out like cables, connecting muscle to bone in patterns that were achingly familiar to Elias's medical training. He could see the deltoids, the pectorals, the rectus abdominis—all the landmarks of human anatomy, rendered in nightmarish scale.

  But the most striking feature was the heart.

  The Warden's chest was open, the ribcage spread wide like the doors of a cathedral, revealing the massive organ that beat at its center. The heart was enormous—easily three feet across, its four chambers visible through translucent walls, blood pumping through with each thunderous contraction. Arteries and veins spread from it like tree roots, feeding the exposed muscles, keeping the skinless body alive.

  The heart was protected by a cage of bone, not the spread ribs, but additional growths, sharp protrusions that had formed around the vital organ like armor. Getting to the heart would mean getting through those spikes, through the muscle, through the Warden's defenses.

  Blood-Sight activated automatically, Elias's enhanced vision mapping the creature's circulatory system. The information was overwhelming—thousands of vessels, countless pathways, a network of blood flow more complex than anything he'd encountered in the Tower. But through the chaos, he found what he was looking for.

  Weak points.

  The joints, where muscles connected to tendons and tendons connected to bone. The major arteries that fed specific muscle groups. And the heart itself—the ultimate vulnerability, protected but not impenetrable.

  "I see it," Elias murmured. "I see how to kill it."

  The Warden's eyeless head turned toward them, sensory organs pulsing, reading their presence. It didn't speak—Elias doubted it was capable of speech—but its posture communicated clearly enough.

  You have entered my domain. You will not leave alive.

  It attacked.

  The first strike came without warning, a massive fist swinging through the air with speed that belied the creature's bulk. Elias dove to the side, feeling the displacement of air as the blow passed inches from his head. The Warden's fist struck the floor where he'd been standing, cracking the organic surface, sending a tremor through the entire arena.

  "Split up!" Elias shouted. "Don't give it a single target!"

  Mira went left. Elias went right. The Warden turned its head, tracking them both, then chose Elias as its primary target. It lunged forward, covering the distance between them in two massive strides, its arms reaching.

  Elias brought his spear up, deflecting a grabbing hand, then jabbed at the Warden's exposed forearm. The point sank into muscle, drawing dark blood, but the creature didn't even slow. It swept its arm sideways, the motion tearing the spear from Elias's grip and sending him tumbling across the arena floor.

  He rolled, coming up near one of the blood pools, his hand finding his backup knife. The Warden was already pursuing, its footsteps shaking the ground with each impact.

  Heavy strikes. Predictable patterns. Learn them.

  The creature attacked again, a downward hammer blow with both fists. Elias dodged backward, watching the strike, analyzing. The Warden's movements were powerful but not fast. The wind-up for major attacks was visible, readable. If he could predict them...

  Another strike, this time a sweeping backhand. Elias ducked under it, feeling the breeze of the massive limb passing overhead. The Warden's recovery was slow, a brief window of vulnerability before it could attack again.

  "The joints!" Elias shouted to Mira. "Target the joints when it's recovering!"

  Mira darted in from the creature's blind side, her knife slashing across the back of its knee. The blade bit deep, severing tendons, and the Warden's leg buckled momentarily. It roared—a deep, resonant sound that came from somewhere in its open chest—and spun toward this new threat.

  Elias retrieved his spear while the Warden was distracted. His body ached from the tumble, his vitality already depleted from the days of fighting through the Warden's domain. But he was learning. He was adapting.

  The Warden attacked Mira with a series of rapid punches, each one powerful enough to kill if it connected. She was faster than Elias, her military training showing in the way she moved, never where the strikes landed, always finding angles, always looking for openings.

  But she was also injured. Her back was still torn from the Spawn attacks, her movements hampered by pain. And the Warden was relentless, driving her backward toward the arena wall, leaving her less and less room to maneuver.

  Elias charged from behind, his spear aimed at the cluster of vessels he'd identified in the Warden's back. The point sank into muscle, finding an artery, and dark blood sprayed across his face.

  The Warden screamed again, spinning, its arm catching Elias across the chest and hurling him into one of the blood pools.

  The liquid was thick and warm, with a consistency closer to syrup than water. Elias struggled to his feet, the blood clinging to his clothes and skin, its copper smell overwhelming.

  Vitality: 38/100

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  The Warden stood in the center of the arena, wounds visible across its body—the damage to its knee, the hole in its back, a dozen smaller cuts from Mira's knife. Dark blood dripped from each injury, pooling on the floor, adding to the already substantial collection.

  And then something strange happened.

  The blood in the pools began to move.

  It flowed toward the Warden, drawn by some invisible force, climbing up its legs like water defying gravity. The dark liquid merged with the creature's exposed muscles, and where it touched, the wounds began to close.

  "No," Elias breathed. "No, no, no—"

  The Warden was healing. The blood pools weren't just evidence of past battles—they were a resource, a reserve of healing fluid that the creature could absorb to regenerate damage. The knee wound sealed. The hole in its back closed. Even the smaller cuts vanished, the exposed muscle becoming smooth and whole.

  "It's using the blood," Mira said, her voice tight. "The pools—it's feeding from them."

  "Then we need to drain them," Elias replied. "Or keep it away from them. Or—"

  The Warden attacked before he could finish, its movements faster now, more aggressive. Whatever restraint it had shown in the first phase was gone. It was no longer testing them. It was trying to kill them.

  Elias dodged a strike that would have taken his head off, ducked under a follow-up, tried to find an angle of attack. But the Warden was faster than before, its regenerated muscles performing at peak efficiency. Every pattern he'd learned was accelerating, the windows of vulnerability shrinking.

  Vitality: 32/100

  He needed to end this quickly. The longer the fight went, the more the Warden could regenerate, the weaker he and Mira became. They were fighting a battle of attrition they couldn't win.

  The heart. He needed to reach the heart.

  But the bone cage protected it, sharp protrusions forming a barrier around the vital organ. Getting through would require precision and time—two things he didn't have while the Warden was actively trying to kill him.

  Unless...

  Elias ducked another strike, rolled under the Warden's guard, and came up directly in front of the creature. Before it could react, he jumped, his hands finding purchase on the exposed muscle of its chest, his feet pushing off the spread ribs.

  He was climbing the Warden.

  The creature thrashed, trying to dislodge him, but Elias held on with desperate strength. His fingers dug into muscle tissue, finding handholds in the gaps between fibers. He pulled himself higher, past the pectorals, past the shoulder joints, onto the creature's back.

  "What are you doing?" Mira shouted from below.

  "Buying time! Keep it distracted!"

  The Warden reached back, trying to grab him, but its arms couldn't bend far enough to reach the center of its own back. It spun, trying to throw him off, but Elias clung to the exposed trapezius muscles, riding out the motion.

  He was positioned directly above the spine now, looking down at the creature's back. From here, he could see the bone cage that protected the heart—not just the front portion, but the extensions that curved around from behind, forming a complete enclosure.

  But the cage wasn't solid. There were gaps between the bone protrusions, spaces just large enough for a knife blade. And through Blood-Sight, he could see the arteries that fed the heart, the vessels that kept it beating.

  Cardiac Overclock.

  The world slowed.

  Every sensation intensified—the wet grip of muscle beneath his fingers, the thunderous heartbeat that shook the Warden's entire body, the blood flowing through thousands of vessels that he could now see with perfect clarity. Time stretched, each second becoming an eternity.

  Vitality: 22/100

  Elias drew his knife and went to work.

  His hands moved with surgical precision, the blade finding the gaps in the bone cage, cutting through the tissue that connected protrusion to protrusion. Blood sprayed with each cut, but he ignored it, his entire focus narrowed to the task at hand.

  First incision—severing the connective tissue on the right side of the cage.

  Second incision—the left side, creating symmetrical damage.

  Third incision—the posterior connections, weakening the entire structure.

  The Warden screamed, its body convulsing as it realized what was happening. It threw itself backward, slamming against the arena wall, trying to crush Elias between its body and the organic surface.

  The impact drove the air from his lungs. His ribs cracked—he felt them go, the sharp pain cutting through even the Overclock's focus. But he didn't let go. Couldn't let go.

  Vitality: 15/100

  Fourth incision. Fifth. The bone cage was weakening, the protrusions beginning to shift and separate.

  The Overclock expired, and Elias nearly lost his grip as normal time reasserted itself. His body screamed in protest—broken ribs, depleted vitality, muscles that had been pushed far beyond their limits.

  But the cage was compromised. The heart was almost exposed.

  The Warden went berserk.

  It abandoned any pretense of strategy, any attempt at self-preservation. It thrashed and spun and slammed itself against every surface, trying to dislodge the parasite on its back. Blood flew from reopened wounds, splattering the walls and floor, but the creature ignored the damage in its frenzy.

  Elias lost his grip.

  He fell, hitting the arena floor hard, his broken ribs sending spikes of agony through his chest. Through blurred vision, he saw the Warden turn toward him, saw the rage in its eyeless face, saw death approaching with thundering footsteps.

  "Hey!"

  Mira's voice, sharp and clear. She stood between Elias and the Warden, knife in hand, blood streaming from a dozen wounds.

  "Over here, you skinless bastard!"

  The Warden's attention shifted. It lunged toward Mira with all the fury of a wounded predator, its arms sweeping wide, its body moving with desperate, deadly speed.

  Mira was fast. Mira was skilled. But Mira was also injured, exhausted, pushed beyond human limits.

  She dodged the first strike. Ducked the second. But the third caught her—a backhand blow that connected with her entire body, lifting her off her feet and hurling her across the arena.

  She hit the wall with a sickening crunch and didn't get up.

  "MIRA!"

  Elias tried to rise, but his body refused. His vitality was nearly gone, his reserves depleted, his broken ribs grinding with every breath. He watched helplessly as the Warden turned back toward him, its attention returning to the primary threat.

  Vitality: 8/100

  The creature approached slowly now, savoring its victory. Blood still dripped from its wounds, still flowed toward the pools for regeneration, but it was clearly damaged. The bone cage around its heart hung loose, several protrusions broken entirely, gaps visible in the protection.

  Elias could see the heart through those gaps. The massive organ, beating with thunderous power, its four chambers working in perfect synchronization. The target was exposed.

  But he couldn't reach it. Could barely move.

  The Warden loomed over him, its open chest filling his vision, the beating heart an arm's length away but impossibly far.

  This is it, Elias thought. This is where it ends.

  He thought of Elena, dying in that hospital bed, her hand growing cold in his.

  He thought of Lira, flickering and fading, forgetting Mira's name, losing pieces of herself with each passing day.

  He thought of the promise he'd made—to climb to the top, to find the Origin Blood, to save his daughter no matter what it cost.

  No.

  Elias moved.

  He didn't think about the pain, the broken ribs, the depleted vitality. He simply moved, his body responding to will rather than physical capacity. He rolled sideways as the Warden's foot came down where his head had been. He found his spear somehow, his fingers closing around the shaft.

  The Warden struck again, and Elias slid between its legs.

  He came up behind the creature, directly beneath its exposed back, looking up at the damaged bone cage and the heart beyond. The gaps he'd created were directly above him.

  Cardiac Overclock.

  He had nothing left. The Circuit demanded vitality he didn't have, power that had been exhausted floors ago. But he activated it anyway, his will forcing the enhancement to function through sheer desperation.

  Time slowed. Pain vanished. The world narrowed to a single point—the gap in the bone cage, the path to the heart.

  Elias thrust upward with all his remaining strength.

  The spear entered the Warden's chest from below, passing through the gap in the compromised cage, driving deep into the exposed tissue. The point found the heart—he felt the moment of contact, the sudden resistance of muscle tissue, the give as the weapon penetrated the organ's wall.

  He pushed harder.

  The spear punched through the left ventricle, through the interventricular septum, into the right ventricle. Blood exploded from the wound—arterial spray that painted Elias crimson, that filled his eyes and mouth with hot copper.

  The heart ruptured.

  It didn't stop beating—not immediately. The massive organ continued to contract, but now each beat forced blood out through the wound rather than through the arteries. The Warden's body began to fail, its muscles losing their power source, its movements becoming jerky and uncoordinated.

  Elias twisted the spear, widening the wound, ensuring the damage was catastrophic and irreversible.

  The Warden collapsed.

  It fell forward, its body crumpling like a puppet with cut strings. The impact shook the arena, sent waves through the blood pools, knocked Elias flat as the massive corpse settled into stillness.

  Overclock deactivated. Vitality: 3/100.

  Elias lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling with its beating-heart membrane, breathing in shallow gasps that sent fire through his broken ribs. He was alive. Somehow, impossibly, he was alive.

  But the fight wasn't over yet.

  He forced himself to move, crawling toward the Warden's corpse. The massive heart was still visible through the ruined chest, no longer beating, blood pooling around the wound he'd created.

  But there was something else.

  At the center of the heart, visible through the torn tissue, something glowed. A liquid that wasn't blood—brighter, purer, with a luminescence that cast shadows across the arena floor.

  Origin Blood.

  Elias reached into the Warden's chest with trembling hands, his fingers finding the source of the glow. There was a chamber within the heart, a hidden reservoir that the creature had protected with everything it had. And within that reservoir...

  He pulled out a container—organic, grown from the Tower's tissue, filled with approximately five liters of glowing liquid.

  Harvested: 5L Origin Blood

  Blood Reserves: 7.1 L (including Origin Blood)

  Elias held the container against his chest, feeling the warmth of its contents, seeing the glow through the translucent walls. This was it. This was what he'd climbed fifteen floors for, fought countless battles for, sacrificed pieces of himself for.

  This was Lira's salvation.

  "Lira..."

  His voice was barely a whisper, his strength nearly gone, his consciousness fading at the edges. But she heard him. She always heard him.

  The ghostly girl appeared at his side, her flickering form stabilizing slightly as she looked at what he held.

  "Papa? Is that...?"

  "Origin Blood." He managed a smile despite the pain, despite the exhaustion, despite everything. "I got it."

  Soul Integrity: 87.2%

  They weren't at the top yet. There were still thirty floors between them and the summit, still dangers and challenges and horrors to face. But this—this was proof that they could make it. Proof that the impossible was possible.

  Proof that a father's love could overcome anything.

  "Lira..." Elias breathed, his eyes closing, the container clutched tight against his chest. "I got it."

  And then the darkness took him.