Fenrir stepped into the seventh floor with his usual impassive gaze.
The air here was different—cleaner, colder, with an undercurrent of power that hummed beneath the ground.
The buildings were sleeker, the streets wider, and the people wore finer robes and armor.
Clearly, this was a higher-tier floor. The population was dense, and he found himself blending into a crowd moving through a large open-air market that buzzed with energy.
As he walked, Fenrir let his sharp ears pick up the whispers and murmurs in the crowd. Most of them were idle gossip, but a few threads caught his attention.
"Did you hear? Humans are now inside the tower…"
"I saw one just yesterday. Looked soft."
"Hah! The old council's losing their minds over it."
"New blood. New toys. I say let them come."
Fenrir didn't react, but a flicker of amusement crossed his face. Predictable. The older generation feared change, clinging to the established hierarchy.
