GODGEAR - JOURNEY TO SAVE EDEN

Jareth ascended the narrow staircase, each step echoing faintly against the cold, suffocating walls of the tower. The space felt claustrophobic—too tight to maneuver properly, much less unleash his full power. He couldn't help but frown at the constraints, gripping his sword tighter as he felt the oppressive atmosphere pressing down on him.

"Have you noticed it yet, Jareth?" Bahamut's voice rumbled in his mind, breaking the silence.

Jareth slowed his pace. "Noticed what?"

"This tower… and many places like it," Bahamut said, his tone heavy with a mix of anger and sorrow. "This is why we need human GODGEAR wearers. These narrow entrances and cursed structures prevent us from using our real forms to reclaim what was stolen."

Jareth raised an eyebrow. "You're saying even you—an Ultimate Dragon God—couldn't just bulldoze your way through this place?"

Bahamut growled, a low rumble that resonated in Jareth's chest. "If I were to enter with my true body, my power would be drained before I could take a single step. These traps are designed to neutralize us gods—our magic, our might, even our life force. The only way we can navigate them is by hiding in forms that weaken us further. Even if we shape-shifted into humans or mystical creatures, the traps would sap our strength until we're nothing but husks."

Jareth stopped at a landing and leaned against the wall. "So the GODGEAR… it's like a shield, isn't it?"

"More than a shield," Bahamut explained. "The GODGEAR is our home. It is our domain, a sanctuary where these traps hold no power over us. Within the GODGEAR, we retain control of our essence, channeling it through you to fight without fear of being reduced to nothing."

Bahamut's voice grew softer, tinged with grief. "I lost one of my own sons to this trap long ago. He was young, brash, and confident. He thought he could overcome it with his might alone. But the moment he stepped into the tower… I felt his power fading, being siphoned away. He never made it out."

Jareth's chest tightened. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said quietly. "No one should have to go through that, not even a god."

"Your compassion does you credit, Jareth," Bahamut replied. "But it does not erase the bitterness in my heart. As the Ultimate Dragon God, it infuriates me that such crude tricks could diminish my power."

Jareth frowned, glancing up at the spiraling staircase ahead. "So that's why you gods can't reclaim the land yourselves. You're bound by these traps, these limitations. And I'm the workaround."

"Precisely. You, as my chosen, are the sword that strikes where I cannot."

The conversation was interrupted by a distant clanging sound, like metal scraping against stone. Jareth tensed, his grip on his sword tightening. "We're not alone, are we?"

"No," Bahamut growled. "And these enemies… they are not ordinary."

From the shadows ahead, two figures emerged, their heavy footsteps reverberating through the narrow corridor. They were monstrous—towering figures clad in jagged, dark armor that gleamed faintly in the dim light. Their bodies were unnaturally muscular, their veins pulsing with an eerie glow. Each held a massive weapon: one carried a colossal greatsword, the other a spiked mace as large as Jareth's torso.

"These things are built like fortresses," Jareth muttered, stepping into a defensive stance. "What are they?"

"Knights of the Abyss," Bahamut said, his voice grave. "They are remnants of the dark forces that once served the Demon Gods. Be wary, Jareth. Their strength rivals that of a lesser GODGEAR wielder."

The knight with the greatsword lunged first, its movements deceptively fast for its massive frame. Jareth barely had time to raise his blade, parrying the strike. The force of the impact sent a shockwave down the corridor, cracking the walls.

"Damn, they hit hard," Jareth grunted, pushing back against the knight's weight.

The second knight closed in from the side, swinging its mace in a wide arc. Jareth leaped backward, narrowly avoiding the crushing blow as the mace slammed into the floor, leaving a deep crater.

"Focus, Jareth!" Bahamut urged. "These are no mindless brutes. They fight with precision and coordination."

Jareth smirked despite the pressure. "Good. I could use a challenge."

He charged at the greatsword-wielding knight, feinting a strike to its torso before pivoting and slicing at its leg. His blade connected, sparks flying as it cut through the armor and into the flesh beneath. The knight roared in pain, staggering but not falling.

The mace-wielder seized the opening, swinging downward with tremendous force. Jareth sidestepped at the last moment, the mace missing him by inches and embedding itself in the floor. Using the opportunity, Jareth slashed at the knight's exposed arm, severing it cleanly at the joint.

The dismembered knight bellowed in rage, its glowing veins pulsating erratically. Dark energy seeped from its wounds, repairing the damage at an alarming rate.

"They regenerate quickly," Bahamut warned. "You must finish them swiftly, or their strength will overwhelm you."

"Working on it," Jareth muttered, focusing his energy.

The greatsword knight recovered and swung its massive blade in a horizontal arc. Jareth ducked under the strike, closing the distance and driving his sword into the knight's chest. The blade pierced through its armor, and with a surge of power from Bahamut, the knight erupted into a burst of dark energy, its body disintegrating into ash.

One down.

The remaining knight roared in fury, its mace glowing with malevolent power. It charged at Jareth, swinging wildly. Jareth dodged each strike with calculated precision, his movements fluid and unyielding.

When the knight overextended on a swing, Jareth seized the opportunity. He leaped onto the knight's back, driving his sword through the base of its neck. The knight thrashed, trying to shake him off, but Jareth twisted the blade, severing its spine.

The knight collapsed, its body dissolving into ash like its companion.

Breathing heavily, Jareth lowered his blade. "That… was more than I bargained for."

"You did well, Jareth," Bahamut said. "But this is only the beginning. The tower will throw far worse at you before you reach the top."

Jareth wiped the sweat from his brow and took a deep breath. "I'll be ready. Let's keep moving."

With renewed determination, he ascended the staircase, his mind once again filled with questions about the battles ahead—and the truth waiting at the top of the tower.