Constellation Gallery (1)
There’s a term for this: force majeure. A situation no human power can resist. And that was exactly my predicament.
“Where the hell am I?”
I remembered getting hammered with old buddies I hadn’t seen in ages, pounding drinks through the third round. But after that? Blackout. When I came to, I was in a dark, dingy cave. No light from an exit, no passageways—just a single rickety torch flickering faintly on the wall.
No lost footage in my memory, either. Kidnapped? Nah, my wallet and phone were still in my pockets, untouched. No zip ties on my wrists or ankles.
One thing was crystal clear: this was no ordinary situation. Bad vibes all around. First things first—gotta get outta here.
Squelch.
As I pushed off the ground to stand, something sticky coated my hand. A fishy stench hit my nose.
This can’t be...
Dread washed over me. Careful not to touch anything else, I raised my right hand to the torchlight. Crimson liquid smeared my palm, dripping down in thick rivulets.
“Ah, shit.”
Blood. And not fresh, either.
We welcome all challengers entering the trials.
Your difficulty is Madness.
Right on cue, a blue interface popped up, boldly declaring its intent to kill me. Two years ago, after the 9th-floor Strategy community went dark forever, the government deemed it impossible. Madness. I’d seen it flash on the news once by chance and figured that was it for my lifetime connection.
Life’s funny like that—you think you know, but you don’t.
Kidnapping it was, then. The culprit? Some Tower squatting smack in the middle of Seoul. No escaping without clearing all 100 floors. Die inside, die for real outside. Only way out: conquer the top.
Then a sudden question hit me.
“Hang on, I don’t remember seeing a system window?”
You don’t enter the Tower without an invite. So I must’ve accepted one while blackout drunk? But no memory at all. Even hammered, does that make sense?
“Hmm...”
Even if booze turns me into a dog, I’m not the top-tier idiot who’d smash a suicide button without hesitation. That’s just straight-up killing yourself.
Fine, chalk it up to being dragged in. Sometimes ignoring the truth is the way to go. Save the regrets for when I’ve got breathing room.
The 0th Floor Temporary Waiting Room has been activated.
I stood to grab the wall torch, and another message appeared.
Proceed to the next floor?
Time remaining until full closure of 0th Floor: 13 days + 23:54:28.39
Whoosh! The torches burst to life, brutally illuminating the cave’s horrors.
“Whoa, no joke.”
I was speechless at the scene. Corpses hung by ropes, tongues lolling to the floor. Other spots had broken weapons stabbed into the ground where bodies should’ve been. Hell on earth.
One common thread: no proper graves anywhere.
You can recover wounds in the waiting room. This feature supports ON/OFF.
Enter the community?
Some hanged themselves. What did they see ahead to give up? Shattered teeth, broken weapons—what monster wrecked them like that?
Entering community.
The truth of Madness, hidden from climbers. Touch it, and you advance to Floor 1.
⊳ World)—Deactivated—
⊳ Korea) General | 27,351/32,000
⊳ Korea) Madness | 1/4,000
⊳ Channel) Constellation | 101/100
But what’s Constellation?
Just standing here, the corpses were eating at my sanity. The blood reek hit harder now that I was upright. Who I was before the Tower? Irrelevant now. I’m a climber. A hopelessly unlucky Madness climber. The maddest of the mad.
You can use all community features.
The more I reminisced about my peaceful pre-Tower life, the more regrets piled up. Starting to get why some offed themselves. This place was unfit for human habitation. Climbers toughen mentally, they say? Doubt it. Corpses are a hard no. Blood dripping from those lolling tongues like stalactites—grotesquely harmonious and nauseating.
Constellation Gallery.
I stared at it for a while. Climber communities? Sure, heard of ‘em. But Constellations? They’re patrons who sponsor climbers to make the Tower easier, each with their quirks. Fine so far.
Problem: every one has a screw loose. Cut support if you learn magic as a martial climber? Mild. Mix words with a female NPC and get 300 nonstop messages from a yandere Constellation while you sleep? That’s the norm.
Worth chatting with these nutjobs?
“Sigh...”
If it’s real Constellation chatter, the intel quality’s on another level. Madness communities are dead climbers’ logs. Constellations who sponsored them? Their posts remain—god’s-eye view.
“Maybe just lurk a bit?”
I tapped into the gallery. Usage like outside Tower communities. Same vibe.
A martial-world Constellation’s post, it seemed. “Alt character vibe?”
Sucks his climber got NTR’d, but the post and comments gave me the gist. Constellations = endgame vets multiboxing alts for fun.
“Not dangerous, right?”
If anything, intriguing. No way they silence you just for peeking—climbers are ants to them. Not zero risk in that power gap, though.
“...”
I glanced at the weapon graves. Didn’t past challengers check logs? Clearers vs. failers—what differed? Figure it out or die ugly here. Worst Tower ever—world record’s just 9F, trucks of corpses.
Die either way? Might as well twist myself inside out trying. Constellation Gallery? Worth grabbing that rope.
Create a post?
I pondered the blank space. Gallery core: aggro. Posts bury fast without it. Provoke without poking the bear?
Inspiration from...
—Stock Gallery
“Enlightened! Daytrading’s secret!”
I posted.
It caused an even bigger splash than imagined.