Because a tower cleared without care is just an empty spire. But a tower understood—that changes the world below. And that unfinished warning? Maybe it ends simply: “…forget why you came.”

Clearing is an act of will. But being a hero is an act of attention. The greatest heroes in myth—Odysseus, Arjuna, Tolkien’s Frodo—did not simply complete objectives. They lingered in caves, wept on beaches, hesitated at thresholds. Their heroism was not speed but depth .

Worse, they become suspicious of anything that doesn’t serve the climb. Compassion slows progress. Curiosity is a detour. Grief over a fallen comrade is inefficient. By the time they reach the top, they have become the very thing the tower was meant to contain: a creature of pure, ruthless direction. What if the unfinished advice concluded like this?