Sky Tower
Level Up Harem — Book 3
By Machine George
The desert floor is a memory. The Sky Tower is real.
Beneath the Scarab Colossus arena, the Architects left a gift — an elevator to a tower that pierces the clouds. Jace and his party rise through the clouds toward a spire built by ancient Architects. Below them: sand. Above them: a trial that will change everything.
The Sky Tower tests more than combat skills. It tests timing, trust, and the willingness to catch someone before they fall into the void. New allies join the climb — including a golem librarian who has spent four centuries cataloging data, about to learn what it means to feel.
New characters join the party:
- Ivy — Golem librarian with crystal-encrusted skin and glowing runic eyes
Read on Amazon (Kindle Unlimited)
Chapter 1 — Dawn Ascent
The elevator platform thrummed beneath Jace’s boots like a living heartbeat, the concentric rings of Architect alloy spinning in precise counter-rotation as they lifted away from the desert floor. Dawn’s first light had barely brushed the dunes when they activated the Sun-Dial Keystone, yet the sky above already burned with pink-gold streaks reflected in the platform’s protective field. Sand still clung to his cloak hem; heat still smoldered in the back of his throat. But the Tower’s hum filled his lungs with thin, electric air, and he knew they were leaving the desert’s rules behind.
He’d spent the final hour before launch pacing their base’s kitchenette, checking and rechecking every strap and rune. Sand Anchors polished. Shield bracers inspected. Spare keystone fuses tucked into Mira’s side pouch. Tamsin’s latest “favor” lay in his pack—a set of resonance sensors the dwarf had insisted he install somewhere highly illegal. Jace had told her he’d see what he could do. He’d also stood before the map wall as it pulsed with the Spire glyph, promising the room, the shrine candles, even the cheeky tea kettle that he’d bring the team back.
“Grip the outer rail with your left hand, keep your right palm flat on the keystone bracket,” he instructed, pitching his voice to carry over the rings’ vibration. “If turbulence hits, we anchor to the center pillar before we even think about drawing steel. Mira, you’re on humor detail. Nadiya, ears open for harmonic shifts. Elara—”
“Already monitoring the rune glow,” Elara said, her palm pressed to the keystone’s upper disc. The light in the carved glyphs pulsed in time with her steady breathing, a hymn under her breath braiding with the elevator’s own song.
Mira leaned over the rail with the exuberance of a cat spying a new rooftop. “Jace, if I fall, you’re catching me.”
“You’re tethered,” he reminded her, nodding to the braided harness line that connected each of them to the central column. “And if that fails, I’m catching you.”
“Perfect.” Mira flashed a grin that could have coaxed a statue into a smile. “I live to give you heart attacks.”
Nadiya’s tail bristled beneath her cloak as she peered through her sand goggles. The fennec’s ears tracked every shift in the elevator’s pitch, swiveling like twin radar dishes. “Wind shear coming from port,” she said. “I can hear it bending around the field. Should be mild, but the next gust ten breaths out is going to slap hard.”
Jace adjusted his stance, widening his footing on the grooved metal to offset the predicted hit. “On my count. Three… two… brace.”
The field flared as the gust struck, shimmering in a lattice of teal and gold. The elevator tilted a fraction before the counter-rotation corrected, but none of them stumbled. Jace exhaled through his nose, the disciplined calm he’d forged in the Scarab’s arena settling over him. They had beaten sandstorms, mimic doors, corrupted treants, and smug nobles. They’d earned a place on this platform. He wouldn’t let the first crosswind shake that.
Below them the desert unspooled like an endless scroll, dunes stretching to the horizon in reddish-gold waves carved by the night’s wind. The oasis where they had camped with the Glass Jackals was already a glimmering shard of green swallowed by distance. In the east, the sun crested the ridge, turning every dune crest into a ribbon of fire.
“I can’t see the Bright Lances,” Mira said, shading her eyes. “Maybe the Tower ate them for breakfast.”
Jace squinted toward the southern dunes. For a heartbeat he caught the glimmer of a glide wing catching the sun, then it vanished behind a cloud of illuminated sand. Whether it belonged to Torvy or some other opportunist, he couldn’t tell.
“Or they launched from another Waypoint,” Jace said without humor. He’d seen the glide barges, the way Torvy’s crew hustled every contact to get their own route skyward. “Stay ready in case their rigs cross ours.”
The keystone’s outer ring chimed, and Elara’s eyes widened. “There’s a status ping,” she said. “It’s acknowledging we passed the safe-altitude threshold.”
A line of text scrolled across the inner field, luminous letters hovering above the keystone’s surface. Jace read it aloud.
[SYSTEM] Destination Locked: Waypoint Spire — SKY TOWER.
Hearing the Tower speak their destination out loud shivered through him. This wasn’t a rumor on the map wall or a projection in Tamsin’s shop. It was real, and the system itself now escorted them.
Mira bounced once on her toes, then forced herself still when the platform wobbled. “All right, I admit it. We might actually be doing this.”
“‘Might’?” Elara teased, her copper hair whipping in the updraft. She tightened the tie at the end of the braid she shared with Mira—a symbolic knot they’d started wearing during the Scarab raid. “I’m already preparing to log a new hymn for the Shrine.”
Nadiya leaned closer to Jace, her voice just audible over the hum. “Do you hear them?” she whispered. “It’s like… curves of sound. Different than sandstorms. More mathematical.”
He listened harder. Beneath the mechanical whirr he heard something else: sustained chords that oscillated around a steady center, rising pitch as they ascended. Not random. Structured. “I hear them,” he said. “Harmonics tied to altitude, maybe? If you notice a key change, call it out. Could mean the Tower wants us centered.”
Nadiya nodded, cheeks flushed with excitement and terror in equal measure. “Understood.”
As the platform rose higher, the desert blurred into color bands, and thin clouds drifted past, leaving streaks of cold moisture on the field. Jace reached out to touch the condensation, rubbing it between his fingers. It evaporated instantly, leaving a tingle. The air grew sharper, tasting of ozone. Each breath filled his lungs like drinking from a chilled metal cup.
“We should catalog symptoms,” Elara said, slipping into healer mode. “Altitude adjustments can sneak up on us. Headaches, dizziness, shortness of breath—”
“I’ll keep a pulse on oxygen,” Jace said. “If anyone feels woozy, we rotate positions every ten minutes.”
Mira flipped her goggles onto her forehead, squinting upward. “I can finally see it.”
He followed her gaze. The Sky Tower had looked like a mirage from the desert—an impossible needle glinting on the horizon. Up close it dominated the sky, a pale spire that pierced the highest clouds, its surface rippling with iridescence as if made from overlapping scales of light. Terraces spiraled around it at irregular intervals, studded with crystalline balconies and gardens that somehow clung to the Tower’s skin. The elevator shaft they rode tracked along one of these terraces, aiming for a docking ring that jutted from the Tower like an open hand.
“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” Elara said, awe softening her features.
“And dangerous,” Jace added. “Don’t forget dangerous.”
Nadiya’s ears flattened. “I’m not forgetting.”
Elara reached across the narrow gap between them and squeezed Nadiya’s glove. “We already outpaced Sir Halwen’s sabotage, Syl’s blight, and a Scarab that thought we were snacks. The Tower can test us, but it doesn’t get to define us.”
Jace watched the Tower grow larger, the docking ring now a massive circular bay rimmed with runic pylons. Energy flares danced between the pylons, shifting in rhythmic pulses that reminded him of beating wings. The keystone’s hum synchronized with the pylons as they approached; he could feel the vibrations aligning in his teeth.
“Okay,” he said. “Docking plan, repeat it.”
“We stay clipped into the inner column until the field drops and the platform locks,” Mira replied.
“Elara extends Shine the moment the field thins, to smooth the connection,” Elara added.
“Nadiya keeps listening,” Nadiya said. “If the harmonic key shifts suddenly, we brace.”
“I step onto the dock first, shield up, scan for hostiles,” Jace finished. “If the Tower sends constructs, we don’t attack unless we’re attacked. We’re guests until proven otherwise.”
Mira rolled her shoulders. “Or until someone decides we’re loot.”
He allowed a ghost of a smile. “Then we remind them what happens when they try to take what’s ours.”
The docking ring flared brighter, and the elevator slowed, the concentric rings easing to a smooth glide. The protective field around the platform thinned, wind rushing in with a shrill cry like flutes. Elara raised both hands and cast Shine, a soft golden sheen that rippled outward, meeting the Tower’s field and calming its turbulence. The keystone warmed beneath Jace’s palm. He felt it question him—an intuition rather than words.
“It wants authorization,” he said quietly. “Hands in.”
Each of them placed a hand on the keystone’s rim, forming a circle. Jace let the memory of the Scarab arena fill him—how they’d stood back-to-back, trusting each other to watch the blind angles. When the keystone’s warmth spiked, he added the image of Syl’s grove, of the kitchenette they’d built, of evenings laughing over burnt stew. The platform shuddered once, then glided into the docking bay as if sliding into a sheath.
Mechanical locks clamped around the elevator’s edges, anchoring it to the Tower, and the protective field dissipated entirely. Cold air rushed in, sharp enough to sting. The platform’s rings slowed until they stopped with a resonant chime. For a heartbeat there was only silence.
Then a segment of the docking ring’s wall liquefied, flowing outward to form an archway. Light spilled from within, tinted soft blue.
“We’re invited in,” Elara breathed.
“Or lured,” Nadiya whispered.
“Either way, we go forward,” Jace said. He unclipped himself from the column, testing the gravity. It was lighter than in the desert but still pulled enough to keep them grounded. He slid his shield off his back, the familiar weight reassuring, and stepped toward the archway. “Stay behind me until we know what’s on the other side.”
Mira clicked her tongue. “Captain commanding again. Got it.”
They descended the ramp that extended from the platform to the docking ring floor. The material looked like marble but felt like warm, resilient metal beneath their boots. As they approached the archway, the light inside shifted, forming lines that pulsed in time with their footsteps.
“It’s sensing our cadence,” Elara said. “Jace, do you hear that chord? It matches the resonance hum from the elevator but a step higher.”
Jace listened. She was right: the Tower’s hum had moved from a calm C to a curious D. A question chord. “Acknowledged,” he murmured. “We’ll answer once we’re inside.”
The archway widened, revealing a corridor lined with translucent panels. Shadows moved beyond the panels like slow currents in water. The air carried the scent of ozone and something green—impossible at this altitude, yet there it was, fresh and alive.
Jace paused on the threshold, glancing at each of his companions.
Elara met his gaze with steady warmth. “We’re ready.”
Mira spun a dagger in her fingers with theatrical nonchalance, but her eyes gleamed with determination. “Let’s see what’s on the menu today.”
Nadiya exhaled slowly, ears forward. “I’ve never heard anything like this, but I’m with you.”
He nodded, then stepped through the archway. The corridor beyond curved gently upward, lit by lines of light embedded in the floor. The translucent panels showed glimpses of the open sky, the desert far below blurred into abstract colors. Tiny motes drifted through the air, glowing faintly. They floated past Jace’s face and brushed his cheek like inquisitive insects before darting away.
“Constructs?” Mira whispered.
Elara extended a hand, letting a mote hover above her palm. “Observers, I think. Curious but not hostile.”
Nadiya turned her head, listening. “There’s a harmonic swell ahead. Something large.”
Jace advanced slowly. “Stay alert.”
They rounded the corridor’s bend and entered a circular chamber. At its center floated a construct shaped roughly like a humanoid, composed of liquid metal that rippled with inner light. Its head was an oval with a single band of light that pulsed in rhythm with the Tower’s hum. It hovered inches above the floor, arms extended to either side as if balancing unseen scales.
The construct rotated to face them, the light band brightening. It raised an arm and gestured toward the chamber’s far door, which remained sealed.
“I think,” Elara said slowly, “it wants us to follow.”
Mira rested her daggers against her thighs. “Or it wants to lead us into a pit. Hard to tell with faceless metal monks.”
Jace tightened his grip on his shield. “If it meant to attack, it would have done so already. Step carefully and keep formation. If it gestures again, we mirror. Respect is the safer play.”
The construct glided forward. Jace led the group after it, staying two paces back. As they approached the far door, the construct’s light band dimmed, and a glyph appeared above the door’s surface: three interlocking triangles—a symbol he’d studied in Ivy’s notes back at the base. Precision. The first trial.
“This is it,” he murmured. “Trial of Precision is right through here.”
Mira’s tail flicked beneath her cloak. “Already? No lobby snacks? No gift shop?”
“We just ate,” Elara said with a soft laugh.
Nadiya ran her fingers along the door’s edge. “The harmonics match the elevator’s initial key. It’s like the Tower wants to see if we can maintain rhythm.”
The air itself shimmered as a new line of text scrolled above the glyph.
[SYSTEM] Trial of Precision — threshold acknowledged. Adjacency formation advised.
The glyph pulsed once, acknowledging their presence.
“Noted,” Mira said. “Now it’s official.”
Jace centered himself. “All right. Before we trigger it, status check. Everyone breathing steady?”
Elara nodded. “Steady. Mana reserves full.”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Mira said. “Ankle’s tight but functional.”
Nadiya flexed her fingers. “Hands are sweating. That means yes.”
Jace lifted his shield, then placed his palm on the glyph. “We tackle whatever’s in there together. No heroics. No overextending. We’ve built this far by being smarter than the dungeon, not flashier.”
The glyph flared, and the door dissolved into light. Beyond lay a vast chamber, its floor segmented into geometric patterns that shifted and rotated even as he watched. Suspended above the floor were ornate mechanical arms tipped with blades and weighted spheres, their movements synchronized like the gears of a clock.
Mira whistled. “Precision indeed.”
Elara’s eyes danced with a mix of dread and thrill. “The Tower isn’t easing us in.”
Nadiya’s ears flattened again. “I can hear the timing. It’s like a song with missing beats. We’ll have to fill them.”
Jace stepped across the threshold. “Then we fill them. Formation: Beginner’s Band adjacency. Mira left, Elara right, Nadiya behind. I’ll call cadence. Trust the Call is live, but we only spend it when necessary. The Tower is watching.”
As the door sealed shut behind them, he felt the Tower’s hum intensify, the resonance pressing against his skin like a second heartbeat. They’d left the desert behind. Now the Sky Tower was watching every step.
The floor shifted immediately, hex tiles rotating to expose mirrored facets while others sank, turning the arena into a kinetic puzzle. Overhead, the mechanical arms began tracing concentric paths, weighted spheres whistling through the air with bone-breaking promise. Somewhere within the gears, a metronome ticked—a soft click-click-click that dared them to miss a beat.
Jace inhaled, tasting metal and anticipation. He glanced at each of his companions: Elara’s eyes bright with focus, Mira already prowling to the left, Nadiya listening as if she could hear the next tile flip before it happened. Trust. That was their greatest resource here.
“Let’s make it worth the show,” he said, and led his family into the Trial of Precision.
Continue the Adventure
Book 1: Starter Dungeon
Book 2: Desert Raid
Book 3: Sky Tower — Available now on Amazon (Kindle Unlimited)
Book 4: Ice Labyrinth
