Chapter 332
The tower had rules.
Much like the other dungeons and entrances to realms of flauros around the metroplex, some were obvious, and others were less so. And probably because of its scale, full-clear requirements in the same vein of the siege floor we'd torn through less than a day ago were mercifully rare. Downside, holding parity with the rest of the system proper, the parameters to empower the circular lift or find another that linked to it were rarely clear and defined. They were often bogglingly well hidden, forcing careful exploration under difficult conditions that didn't lend themselves to slow and steady.
That was at least part of the reason our previous attempt had failed. Two Users simply couldn't ward off numerous threats, navigate hazards, and somehow search the surroundings with a fine-toothed comb.
Still, there were benefits.
Aside from the tears, until the most recent floor the tower had been more accommodating than its neighbors. It still required a great deal of awareness and preparation, but the floors themselves were more in line with traditional ecosystems. Snapshots of alien vistas taken from locations no human had ever set foot. Monsters didn't simply roam around deathtraps and arenas, waiting to slay or be slayed. From giant ants to roaming hordes of goblins, there was a proper sense that the creatures present lived here, carving out an existence within the wide boundary of fog only visible when an observer roamed too close to the perimeter. Several floors, well-tread at this point, provided a windfall of natural resources completely absent elsewhere, sought after by crafters and anyone with an enterprising bone in their body. As a result, the rewards for pushing through any given floor were completely varied, sometimes next to nothing, sometimes exceedingly valuable.
It was a blessing and a curse. The floors were less likely to outright kill you than a maligned trial, but the inhabitants that dwelled within their borders tended to be far more protective of what they believed to be their homestead.
At some point it'd be worth exploring each location to a greater extent. But time was of the essence, and Miles wasn't playing about efficiency. He'd put emphasis on it in the planning stages. If recon didn't flag anything overtly dangerous and there was nothing to telegraph 'full-clear,' we were effectively speed-running, moving quickly and brutally through anything remotely simple, leaving more slack to tackle the inevitably more challenging scenarios.
The lift ascended aggressively, erupting upward with enough force to make it difficult to move.
Expanding my awareness, I did a brief check on everyone's mental state. Mostly they shared a mask of focus, eyes turned upward towards a destination unknown, weapons at the ready. Everyone was nervous, eager to see what we'd find. Surprisingly, Nick was the outlier, actively chewing his lip, seeming more keyed on an invisible screen than he was on the approaching landing.