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Chapter 210 - Second Ascent (XIV)
🕑 Added 2025-02-26 01:00:03 +0000 UTCWhat…
A surge of energy floods my body, a jolt so sudden it snaps me awake. My breath hitches.
I blink sluggishly, my vision adjusting beyond the haze. The sky stretches above—vast, endless, and impossibly clear. No storm. No suffocating darkness. Just the soft glow of the setting sun glinting off the salt-streaked edges of my lashes.
I feel… perfect. No, beyond perfect. My muscles hum with vitality, my mind sharp, my body whole. Yet, the sensation of dampness clings to my skin, the tang of salt thick in my nostrils. My hair, matted with brine, sticks to my forehead.
Then, warmth. A force crashes into me, arms coiling tight around my frame. Ayu.
I let out a soft breath, a smile tugging at my lips as I return the embrace. The scent of sweat, sea, and something distinctly hers floods my senses.
Fragments of memory drift through my mind, disjointed yet vivid. The onslaught. The projectiles. My body moving on instinct, intercepting them all—somehow. And then… nothing.
The others. They must have finished the boss. They must have given me the red orb.
We… won.
I exhale slowly, letting the tension drain from my body as I sink into Ayu’s warmth. She clings to me with fierceness, her arms locked around my back, her breath uneven against my shoulder.
She doesn’t shake, doesn’t sob, but I can feel everything—like she’s holding on just to make sure I don’t disappear.
But something feels… off. A foreign weight on my chest.
Oh.
I glance down and see a black armor, sleek and seamless, covering me from shoulders to waist. It matches the gauntlets and leg guards I already wore, its design flowing as if it was always meant to be part of me. A full-body set, except perhaps for the missing helmet.
Ayu wears the same.
Before I can fully process it, a wave crashes through my mind—intense, raw, undeniable.
My breath catches.
It’s her.
Worry. Relief. Pride. Love. Such strong emotions it makes my heart ache.
I tighten my grip around her.
“It’s alright. I will keep my promise… no matter what.”
She stays silent. A second passes. Then another.
Finally, she steps back, just enough to look at me.
Her eyes say more than words ever could.
As if waiting for the right moment to step in, I notice Imani approaching. He moves with purpose, his towering frame even more imposing in his new full body armor. The others follow at a distance, letting him take the lead.
I turn to face him.
He stops in front of me, silent for a moment, his gaze heavy. Then, in that same measured, stoic way of his, he speaks.
"You saved my life." His voice is deep, firm, unshaken. "I will not forget."
His eyes linger on me. No more words, no unnecessary gestures—yet the weight behind them is unmistakable. An unspoken vow.
I smile and extend my hand forward.
"That’s what a team is for."
He nods and grips my hand, firm and steady.
“Another victory. I’d say we’re getting there,” Lukas’ voice cuts in from behind, light but carrying that effortless charisma of his.
I glance over my shoulder just as he steps forward, arms crossed, his smirk somewhere between genuine and amused.
"Still, I have to say, Alonso. That was incredible."
Well… I’m not even sure how I pulled it off myself.
Lukas exhales, rolling his shoulders. "Well, that’s the fourth boss down, probably three more to go," he comments as the others gather around. "I’d say, aside from that last blunder—which Alonso had to put his life on the line to patch up—the battle went well. A one-sided beatdown, really. And we all worked much better than we did against the last boss."
His gaze flickers to Imani, a knowing smile forming. "It also seems we’ve gained another awakened in our ranks."
Imani meets his stare but remains silent.
Lukas nods before continuing, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "Now, we need to break down the patterns. Every boss so far has had a final, desperate attack, and we have to factor that in. No more surprises. Safety comes first from now on, and as the leader, I take full responsibility for the mistakes so far."
Then, to everyone’s surprise, he bows. "I apologize."
The final attack…
Last time it was similar.
My gaze moves around, scanning the team, until my eyes meet Chiara’s.
She nods back.
“Yet,” Lukas continues, straightening up, his tone firm but composed. “It is clear that the most important trait in The Tower is adaptability. We need to adjust to a scenario in real-time, make decisions on the spot, and leave no room for errors. Our damage output is well beyond what’s required for these fights, but the same cannot be said for our ability to survive.”
His eyes sweep across the group.
“Each of us has our own strengths, and now, some of you have awakened through mysterious mutations—unique abilities that set you apart. These conditions have potential, potential that you need to tap into. Find what suits you best and take it to the extreme. We’re a team now, and that means each of us has a role to play. We can’t afford to be burdens to one another—we have to be strengths. We have to be more than the sum of our parts. We have to become a team worthy of climbing to the top, of bracing any challenge ahead. And for that, we need adaptability and synergy. Those are the key aspects we have to work on.”
He pauses, letting the words settle before continuing, his voice lowering slightly. “And right now, our biggest flaw is in defense. One unexpected attack, and we’re left wide open. A single mistake could cost a life—a life that can’t be brought back, a life that would weaken us all, a life that could have done so much more.”
His expression hardens.
“So, I urge you all—become the best versions of yourselves. Train. Cover your weaknesses. Maximize your strengths. But more than anything, we must improve our teamwork. That is a priority.”
Lukas exhales, rolling his shoulders before addressing the group once more.
“To make sure of that, I’ll take responsibility for setting up proper training stages—ones that push us, ones that prepare us. But there’s only so much I can do alone. Just like today, before the boss fight, I want you all to consider sparring with another. Just as Alonso and Wang did. Challenge each other. Learn from each other. Get to know the people you’re trusting your life to.”
He pauses, his tone growing sharper.
“In today’s boss fight, it was clear we were overconfident. We charged in after just a basic scouting, assuming we had the upper hand. Those of us who couldn’t fly moved too early, putting ourselves at a disadvantage. And when the boss went underwater, we failed to anticipate the ambush on Imani.
“We had no countermeasures, no contingency plan. It became every man for himself. No regrouping. No trap. No relocation. Nothing. And if we keep fighting like this, it’s only a matter of time before we pay the price.”
He lets the weight of his words settle. Then, just as the tension reaches its peak, Lukas suddenly claps his hands together.
"Alright, enough with the scolding!" His grin returns, easy and infectious. “I sound like a grumpy old man. So, before we turn into a bunch of brooding warriors obsessed with self-improvement, let’s do something really crazy and out of the ordinary... like actually celebrating our victory.”
I raise an eyebrow, staring at Lukas in silence. I’m not the only one. Celebrate? I almost forgot that was a thing.
Lukas tilts his head, smirking. “What? You all look like I just suggested a group hug. Get a grip.” He waves Mohan forward. “Alright, show ‘em the magic.”
Mohan steps forward, a confident smirk on his face, but he’s not alone. Behind him, a few others follow, carrying large crates made from woven jungle vines and reinforced with wooden slats.
Lukas’s expression shifts slightly, something unreadable flashing in his eyes before he calls out, “Chiara.”
She looks up.
Then, with a barely noticeable blink, he grins.
Chiara pauses, then her eyes slowly widen. "No… fucking… way."
Lukas chuckles. "Let’s just say... some people are resourceful."
Mohan steps up first, setting his crate down with a bit of dramatic flair. Then the others follow, lowering theirs beside him, revealing dozens of wooden bottles, their exteriors rough-hewn.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Lukas announces, picking up one of the wooden bottles in his hands, "I bring you all… wine!"
Seriously…
Well, it had been forever since I last had a drink. But what kind of wine is this? And how the hell did they even make it?
“Anyway, there’s enough for everyone,” Lukas continues as murmurs ripple through the crowd.
Some react with excited grins, others with amused curiosity, and a few look like they can’t wait another second to get their hands on the bottles—a certain scientist among them.
“But," Lukas raises a hand, his smirk widening, "that’s just surprise number one. A real celebration needs more than just drinks—we need to set the mood right."
He steps to the side with a flourish, then gestures toward the group.
"And for that, coming directly from the country where karaoke is a national-level sport, from the Tiger’s squad, I present to you all… Datu from the Philippines!"
A young man groans, shaking his head in embarrassment at being called out, but after a brief hesitation, he steps forward with confidence.
Lukas grins. “Oh, don’t be shy. This is your moment.”
Datu exhales, rubbing the back of his neck, but the way he stands says he knows there’s no backing out now.
Lukas claps a hand on his shoulder. "Fortunately, thanks to our enhanced minds, we can recall every song we've ever listened to—perfectly." He smirks. "Convenient, huh?"
Then, he sweeps a hand toward a few others already setting up makeshift instruments.
A hollowed-out log drum, stretched with dried plant fibers, sits at the center, while a set of clapsticks—polished pieces of wood carved for rhythm—are passed between the players. Someone carefully tunes a stringed instrument, likely fashioned from a bent tree branch and woven fibers acting as strings. There’s even a set of shakers made from hardened seed pods filled with small pebbles, their earthy rattle adding to the impromptu ensemble.
“Datu will be leading the vocals," Lukas announces, "but backing him up, we’ve got Josh, Zian, Camila, and yours truly.”
At that, a few cheers rise from the group as Josh, Zian and Camila step forward, both clearly amused but more than ready to play along.
Lukas spreads his arms, his energy infectious. “Now, let’s make some music!"
I chuckle under my breath, shaking my head. He actually pulled this off.
The sheer lengths Lukas must have gone to—coordinating all of this under our noses—without anyone catching on… Damn, he’s good at this.
Then, the first beats hit. Sharp, rhythmic claps echo through the air, followed by the deep, steady thump of the log drum.
The makeshift shakers rattle in sync, adding a raw, earthy texture to the sound. The melody takes shape as Datu steps forward, inhaling deeply before letting his voice ring out—clear, strong, and unexpectedly perfect for the moment.
"Don't you know I'm still standing better than I ever did…"
A ripple of recognition runs through the group. Heads lift, conversations pause. Someone laughs in disbelief.
Of all the songs, it had to be this one.
Datu’s voice carries through the space, weaving through the air with a surprising richness.
He’s really good.
I exhale, a half-smile tugging at my lips as I glance at the others. Even those who were hesitant about celebrating before are caught in the moment now. Even Imani and Arjun are smiling. You don’t see that everyday.
The music swells, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the tension—from battle, from survival, from the ever-looming weight of The Tower—it all fades.
For tonight, at least, we’re still standing.
But this song… I really need to dance. "Ayu?"
I turn around, but she’s not there. Huh?
When did she leave?
I scan the area, sending out my waves in all directions, but… nothing.
Odd.
"Chiara, do you know where Ayu is?" I send her a transmission—only to realize she’s already halfway through the first bottle of wine.
When… how?
Chiara blinks, looking towards me. "No idea," she answers casually before taking another sip.
Yeah… nevermind.
Well, the only other person who might know is Lukas, but he’s performing… and he’s really good at it too.
Is there anything he can’t do?
I shake my head and fly upwards, scanning for any trace of Ayu—until a sudden transmission cuts through my thoughts.
"Stay there. Close your eyes and don’t peek with the waves."
Ayu?
What is she… oh.
The surprise she mentioned during the fight?
I chuckle and fly back down, stepping away from the group before turning to face the horizon. The music hums behind me, but my focus is elsewhere.
I wait patiently. Seconds pass, and then—footsteps.
Light, gentle. The rhythm of each step is familiar, but something’s… different.
"Alright, you can open your eyes now," she says.
I open them.
And my mind just—stops.
Ayu stands before me, completely different from how I’ve ever seen her. No armor. No mask. No weapons strapped to her body.
Just a dress.
It clings to her form, woven from fibers of jungle vines and softened palm fronds, dyed in deep volcanic hues—shades of burnt orange and ashy black, like cooling lava meeting the sea. Delicate yet resilient, stitched together with a precision I wouldn’t have thought possible given the materials we have here.
Her slender waist curves into full, perfectly balanced hips, the fabric flowing over her with a natural elegance. Her long, toned legs stand poised, effortlessly sculpted, their smooth lines accentuated by the soft drape of the dress.
Her bare shoulders catch the glow of the setting sun, framing the smooth arch of her neck, where a single breath rises and falls. Her arms, usually hidden beneath armor, are soft yet defined, her fingers brushing lightly against the dress as if still adjusting to wearing it.
Her hair, normally wild, cascades over her shoulders, free and untouched, a single red jungle flower tucked behind her ear—bold, striking, effortlessly beautiful.
And then there’s her face.
She’s beautiful. Raw, untouched, beyond anything I’ve ever seen.
I can’t look away.
My mouth opens, but no words come out.
She smiles.
Not her usual sharp, confident smirk—the kind she flashes before a fight or when she’s about to prove someone wrong. No. This smile is different. Softer. Deep and refreshing, like the first breath of air after resurfacing from deep water. And damn, my heart? It’s throbbing fast.
"Do you like it?" she asks, tilting her head slightly, strands of her hair falling over her shoulder.
Like it?
I force my brain to work, to form some kind of coherent thought, but everything is just—her.
“I… you look beautiful, Ayu,” I finally manage to get the words out, my voice lower than I expected.
Her smile lingers, watching me with that same unreadable, yet completely knowing look.
I exhale, shaking my head slightly, and take a step closer. “The dress… it really suits you. What I’m seeing right now is, without a doubt, the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen inside The—”
No.
I stop myself, locking eyes with her.
“No. In my entire life.”
“You always say things like that,” she mutters, her voice quieter than usual.
“I say what I feel.”
She holds my gaze, her lips parting slightly as if searching for a comeback—but for once, she has nothing.
The music behind us swells, the beat steady, the rhythm inviting.
I take a breath, then step closer, extending my hand. “Dance with me?”
Ayu stares at it, then at me, her expression unreadable again. Then, slowly, she lifts her hand—but before she can take mine, I pause.
Right.
The gauntlets.
I glance down at my hands, then pull them off, one by one. The weight falls away as I let them drop to the ground. Then, bare-handed, I reach for her again.
She hesitates for a split second before finally placing her small, calloused hands in mine.
Warm. Steady.
I close my fingers around hers.
The rhythm of the music wraps around us as we move—slow at first, but soon, we fall into sync.
Her feet mirror mine.
Her warmth presses closer.
And we dance.
