Tower Of Trample -

You pushed open the Gilded Gate. It was not gold. It was bronze, worn slick by countless desperate hands. The inscription above read: Abandon all stature, ye who enter here.

"Put that away, little worm," she sighed. "I do not fight. I judge . And I find you… insufficient." Tower Of Trample

The staircase ended in a vast, circular chamber. The floor was a mosaic of crushed velvet and crushed bone—a pattern of boots, sandals, and bare feet overlapping in eternal, violent dominance. In the center stood a dais, and on the dais, a woman. You pushed open the Gilded Gate

The second rung: crawl beneath an archway shaped like her other foot, held suspended just inches above the ground. You squeezed underneath, feeling the cold sole brush your back like a brand. The inscription above read: Abandon all stature, ye

"Will you remember?" you asked.