The Dark Tower Review

At the top of the Tower, the ringing stopped. A door, carved from the heart of a dying star, creaked open an inch.

"If the bell rings three times, the doors stay shut forever," Jake whispered. "The cycle doesn't reset. We just... stay in the dark." The Dark Tower

"Go then," Roland whispered, though whether he spoke to Jake, the Tower, or himself, he did not know. "There are other worlds than these." At the top of the Tower, the ringing stopped

Roland Deschain did not stop when the world ended; he simply adjusted his pace. "The cycle doesn't reset

He stepped inside, and for the first time in a thousand years, the gunslinger felt the wind change direction.

In the high, thin air of the Borderlands, the sky had turned the color of a bruised plum. The sun was a pale, flickering candle, guttering in a draft that blew from the gaps between universes. Roland knelt by a stream that ran with silver liquid—not water, but the liquefied memories of a city that had never existed. He didn't drink. He knew the price of drinking "Used Time." "He’s coming, Roland," a voice rasped.