Work Text:
The 135th floor is a bottomless pit with no end.
“Are you-” his voice quivers, “are you the god of this tower?”
“Maybe,” the creature smirked down on him.
“Is this the end?” he asked.
“Well I wouldn’t know,” came the condescending reply.
“I beg of you, please tell me - what is this place!”
“Welcome to the 135th floor, the bottomless pit,” it replied, “whoever a fool like you would think this is the top of the tower.”
“Have we been going down this whole time?” Bam asked, amazed.
And with that, the organism, the god, shoved him into the pit.
If Bam was younger, before he had killed Jahad, he would’ve struggled against it. Now he is thankful, thankful for this closure. Even if everyone in the tower was going down, down to hell at least he had met all of them. He would fall for centuries if they wouldn't be hurt.
And so he choked out his last few words, “Goodbye, and thank you.”
-----
Above the end, they received a message from their god, their friend Bam. It read: 'this isn’t the way out' and they mourned. Maybe Jahad did the right thing, but now they would never know.
With the death of their greatest friend buried in their heart, they trudged back to the first floor, to Headon. When they got there, they opened the doors in which the irregulars came through and left for the outside world.
They had escaped from the Tower into Hell, the mimic of the Tower of God. Maybe they would now find peace.