The monastery's air was filled with the low resonance hum of ancient Shell Pulse training, as if the walls themselves whispered lessons to those who'd survived this far.
A few hours later, the same Elder Ant—garbed in spiraling robes of obsidian silk—returned.
"You did not die. That is something," she said, her antennae flicking thoughtfully. "When your level and foundation rise again, return to this place. The Fourth Layer of Shell Reverb awaits—the Absolute Return."
Leon looked up at her. "How many have mastered it?"
"Few. Most fail the first three. Only the broken can carry the weight of the fourth."
He nodded slowly. "I'll be back. Stronger."
The Elder Ant's mandibles clicked once in approval. "Then heal. And climb."
"For now, you have reached your limit," the Elder said before turning and leaving.
Leon lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. I haven't even accessed my true trump card yet, he thought bitterly.
