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Chapter 205 - Second Ascent (IX)
🕑 Added 2025-02-20 01:00:02 +0000 UTCOctober 24, 2024 - ???, Russia
“An event? What’s the exact prompt?”
“‘An Event is available for this Climber. Do you wish to proceed?’ Then two options: Yes and No.”
“Rather straightforward. How many are involved? What does it generate? Is it always the same?”
“All 25 Climbers from Gen-1 seem to be involved in this event. The visuals, based on information from the latest returnees, indicate the location registered as The Isles. After more than 10,000 iterations, we have confirmed that seven randomly generated visuals of the same scene are provided. Each offers a different angle of the region, but all are static. There is no freedom to navigate them.”
“I see… Process the visuals using the seven angles and generate a seamless real-time video suitable for normal humans to watch. Adjust for coherence.”
“Understood. Should I broadcast it through public streams and television or restrict access to the ASCENT system?”
A pause. Then a quiet chuckle.
“This is the first time people will witness what a Climber truly is. No. Make it grand. Override all forms of communication. Every screen in the world will be showing it.”
“Understood. Should I add a commentator or reporter to the video? If so, should it be a human or a digital clone?”
“Hmm… a human would be more authentic, but they’d struggle to keep up with the visuals without any prep. No. Use one of your digital clones and do it yourself. Just… make it believable.”
“Understood. I will proceed immediately if there are no further instructions.”
“Go ahead, CASI.”
Viktor leaned back in his chair, eyes shutting for a moment.
This will make things… interesting.
October 24, 2024 - Isan, Thailand
Santi stood in the backyard, his hands resting lightly at his sides as he watched the gentle sway of the trees in the afternoon breeze. The warmth of the sun felt good on his skin.
He had missed this—the simple act of standing on his own, of feeling the earth beneath his feet without needing help.
For so long, he had been confined, dependent. Years spent in that damn chair, cursing the world, cursing fate. But now? Now he barely sat down at all.
Every step, every moment upright, was a reminder of what he had regained—of the miracle he had been given.
Terry’s people had done the impossible, dragging him back from a future where he would have watched Ayu’s journey from the sidelines. They had given him this—the ability to stand tall, to be the man he once was, the father his daughter deserved.
And for that, his relationship with Terry had shifted. Respect, gratitude… even a sense of trust he hadn’t expected.
Because now, when Ayu returned home, he would be waiting for her properly. Not in a chair. Not broken.
Standing.
Then, hurried footsteps approached. One of the maids, looking unusually flustered, stopped beside him.
“Sir, Mr. Terry just called. He said… it may be of interest for you to watch what’s on TV.”
Santi’s brows furrowed.
TV? He rarely paid attention to it these days. Another government speech? Some new announcement?
Wait… Urgent?
Then it hit him.
Ayu!?
His heart pounded as he shot up from his seat.
Without waiting, he strode toward the living room, the maid following closely behind. His mind raced. It had to be something about her. It had to be.
As they reached the main room, the television was already on, the volume raised.
On the screen, a young, foreign woman appeared.
She was striking—clearly a professional—but unlike the usual polished, rehearsed faces seen on broadcasts, her appearance was slightly disheveled. Her hair was a little messy, and she seemed to be wearing less makeup than expected for a major televised event. Yet, despite that, or perhaps because of it, she carried an undeniable air of professionalism and poise.
Santi’s sharp eyes immediately caught something off. Her lips moved slightly out of sync with the words being spoken. Yet the Thai translation was flawless, as if she were speaking the language herself.
The woman let out a small chuckle, brushing back a stray strand of hair.
“Well, The Tower doesn’t wait—and apparently, neither do we—so makeup and prep will have to take a backseat,” she said with an easy smile. “Good morning, afternoon, and evening, everyone. I’m Emilia Cortez, reporting directly for the United Nations, and welcome to an event unlike any other.”
She adjusted the papers in front of her—an unnecessary gesture, Santi thought, since she was obviously reading from a digital prompt.
“For those just tuning in, what you’re about to witness is not a documentary, not a dramatization, and certainly not a simulation. This is happening, right now, inside The Tower.”
Emilia’s expression turned more serious, her tone shifting effortlessly.
“Many of you are already familiar with the first generation of Climbers—Gen-1—the pioneers who entered The Tower on day one. They’ve been inside for months, pushing deeper, surviving the impossible, and breaking ground for every Climber who came after them. It is because of them that Gen-2 even exists, that humanity still stands tall.”
Santi’s fists tightened.
“For the first time, we won’t just hear stories or see scattered glimpses—we will witness firsthand what our most capable Climbers can truly do. This event will showcase their reality—raw, unfiltered. However, to ensure clarity, all visuals are being processed in real-time using state-of-the-art AI and post-production tools to provide the best possible experience for everyone watching.”
The screen flickered, showing brief flashes of rapidly compiled data, before cutting back to Emilia.
“This isn’t just a broadcast. This is history unfolding before our eyes.”
Santi barely breathed.
Emilia leaned slightly forward, her gaze sharp.
“And now—let’s begin.”
The camera feed transitioned seamlessly, shifting from the newsroom to the Isles.
Towering cliffs stretched toward the heavens, their jagged edges softened by thick, lush greenery. Cascading waterfalls tumbled down into crystal-clear pools, their mist catching the light in a dazzling display. Below, the waves crashed against the base of the cliffs, foaming white against deep blue.
From this vantage point, the landscape looked almost untouched—pristine, wild, and unforgiving.
Then, the camera began to move.
The footage captured the vastness of the terrain, the rivers snaking through the jungle, the sharp contrast between the vibrant foliage and the endless ocean beyond.
Then, it zoomed in.
A group of figures stood at the edge of the cliffs. Motionless. Waiting.
Clad in sleek black armor, each of them carried an undeniable presence. Their black leg guards and gauntlets gleamed under the daylight, but it was the tendrils at their backs that stood out the most—dark appendages shifting slightly, almost as if alive.
Emilia’s voice carried a note of admiration.
"And here they are. The Climbers of Gen-1, those who have braved The Tower longer than anyone. Their armor is not just for protection—it’s a testament to the battles they’ve fought and survived."
The camera zoomed in, focusing on the details of their gear.
"These gauntlets, leg armor, and those strange tendrils weren’t given to them—they earned them, piece by piece, through battles against creatures they refer to as Boss Monsters, a term that, fittingly, seems to have made its way from video games into the reality inside The Tower."
"But what makes this equipment extraordinary isn’t just its apparent indestructibility—it’s how they use it. By channeling their mental EM waves, they can induce forces into their armor, accelerating their movements to speeds beyond what is humanly possible. Each strike, each step, carries power that defies convention."
The camera tightened its focus on one detail in particular—their masks.
Emilia let out a small laugh, genuine surprise in her voice.
"Now, this is something new. Last we heard from the latest Tier-2 Returnees, Climbers were using wooden masks with antennas embedded with conductive materials scavenged from fallen creatures to amplify their wave output. But this... this is different. It looks like they’ve been refining their designs, pushing past makeshift solutions into something far more advanced. They just keep adapting—proving once again that ingenuity is what makes humanity such a formidable force. Way to go!"
A new overlay appeared on the screen, quickly highlighting eighteen figures—names flashing beside them one by one in rapid succession.
"These are the Climbers who have made it to this stage," Emilia continued, her tone steady. "Each of them has endured trials beyond imagination to stand here today."
Then, the visuals paused, the overlay shifting focus.
"And these seven—these are the vanguard. The strongest of the group. The ones pushing humanity forward in The Tower."
The first highlight locked onto a lean, composed man, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon.
"Wang Jian, China. Heir to one of the most influential families in the country. A name tied to both power and legacy, yet instead of standing in a boardroom, he stands here—on the battlefield, forging his own path through relentless trials."
Next, the focus shifted to a broad-shouldered, huge man with a calm yet imposing presence.
"Imani Okoro, Nigeria. A husband. A father of four. A man with a past written in blood, forged in the brutal conflicts of his homeland. The Tower may have chosen him, but survival is a choice he makes every day—a relentless testament to the will of a man who has seen too much, lost too much, and refuses to fall again."
The camera moved again, settling on a leaner, smaller, but no less formidable figure.
"Arjun Rathore, India. His wife and daughter are no doubt watching this right now, filled with immense pride. A man who refuses to let The Tower define him—who faces the impossible with nothing but sheer determination and the promise of home pushing him forward."
Another shift. A tall, handsome, blond man, his eyes sharp, his posture almost too relaxed despite the weight of the moment.
"Lukas Gruber, Germany. His sister is probably watching closely, witnessing firsthand the life he has carved for himself inside The Tower."
Then, a name that made Santi’s breath catch.
The camera zoomed in on a smaller, familiar stance.
"Ayu Narongsak, Thailand. A fighter through and through. Not just in battle, but in spirit. The Tower may test her, but she does not bend. And I’d say her father must be proud beyond words right now."
Santi’s grip tightened, his knuckles white against his sides.
Ayu.
The screen showed her in perfect clarity—her stance firm, her eyes focused. No hesitation. No doubt.
His little girl.
His chest tightened. His breath was slow, measured, but his body betrayed him. His vision blurred for a moment, his throat constricting as a sharp exhale left his lips.
She had always been strong. Always stubborn. But this—this was something else.
Her mask concealed her face, yet he knew. He knew the fire in her gaze, the quiet defiance, the unshakable resolve. He knew because he had seen it before, reflected in his own daughter, the girl he raised, the girl he would give his life for without a second thought.
A lifetime of training, of discipline, of pushing herself beyond what was expected—it had led her here. To this moment. To a battlefield beyond anything he could have imagined.
He swallowed hard.
His Ayu. His flesh and blood.
His chest heaved, and before he could stop it, a single tear traced down his cheek.
She couldn’t see him. She couldn’t hear him.
But gods, if she could—
I’m so damn proud of you, Ayu.
The camera continued, stopping on another female figure.
"And here we have Chiara Lin. A name that, for those in the scientific community, might ring some bells. Before stepping into The Tower, she was one of the brilliant minds working at the Johnson Space Center, directly involved in the detection of The Tower’s initial signal."
The image sharpened, highlighting her controlled posture.
"A scientist, a pioneer, and now—a top-level Climber. The Tower pulled her from the safety of the lab and thrust her into the brutal unknown, forcing her to apply her genius to survive. And if that weren’t impressive enough, reports suggest she’s among the most skilled wave manipulators within Gen-1. A mind as sharp as her instincts—one of humanity’s best hopes moving forward."
Then, the camera shifted again—settling on the last figure.
"And last, but certainly not least—a young man with whom I coincidentally share origins. Raised in the heart of Spain, now residing in Australia—Alonso Shemson."
The image lingered, capturing his imposing stance, the mask hiding all but his sharp, unwavering gaze.
"A survivor of tragedy, a man who lost much before The Tower even took him. But look at him now—standing tall, unshaken, forged by hardship. Whatever awaits in this event, he’ll meet it head-on."
“So these are humanity’s true heroes—the ones who stand at the very edge of the unknown, forging a path ahead, with nothing to guide them. The ones who fight, not for glory, but for survival. For all of us.”
The visuals zoomed out, and continued at a normal flow, revealing a monstrous tsunami in the distance, an unstoppable force surging toward the Isles.
The image made Santi gasp in horror.
“Here we can observe the current situation they are up against. This massive wave in the distance is actually a tsunami of epic proportions, measured at over 1.6 kilometers tall—nearly three times larger than the greatest ever recorded on Earth. And that… is just the start.”
The visuals shifted, zooming in on one of the Climbers.
“This…” Emilia’s voice wavered slightly. “I… I cannot believe it. It seems Chiara is rising into the sky. A Climber has gained the ability to fly! Oh my god.”
Then, suddenly, the feed switched again—this time to Wang, who was also ascending with ease.
“And another one? Incredible. The long-lost dream of humanity—to fly under our own power. This isn’t a superhero in a comic or a special effect in a movie. It’s real. Climbers are flying!”
Santi was undeniably surprised, but his focus was elsewhere. His breath caught as his gaze locked onto one figure.
Ayu. Could she fly too?
The visuals followed the two Climbers as they gained speed in the sky, soaring toward the tsunami.
“I’ve just received updated information suggesting that the force they generate using their EM waves on their equipment could have surpassed the gravitational force acting upon them, effectively allowing them to fly. It’s simply… fascinating. I mean, they’ve been through so much, and I know it’s anything but easy, but… now I kind of want to be a Climber myself,” Emilia chuckled, still in amazement. “What a feat.”
The visuals then shifted to those who remained on the ground.
“What about the rest? Can they do it too? It seems like some sort of discussion is happening. Unfortunately, since they’re wearing masks, we can’t use our latest lip-reading technology to decipher it. Again, as some of you following the ASCENT updates may know, Climbers at this level are capable of effective telepathic communication, making even speech unnecessary. And… oh, wait.”
The image zoomed in as Ayu reached out and took Alonso’s hand.
Santi’s eyes narrowed.
The camera refocused, capturing the moment Alonso wrapped his arms around Ayu from behind as they slowly lifted off the ground, rising steadily into the sky.
“Oh,” Emilia paused, as if taking in the moment herself. “Well, it looks like more of them can fly. A rather… interesting method, though. Is Alonso assisting Ayu? Or is it… hmm, well, that’s cute,” she laughed lightly as the feed showed Ayu comfortably resting her head on Alonso’s shoulder as they ascended together toward the tsunami. “It seems love can bloom even in the harshest of times.”
Santi’s brows furrowed as he watched the screen.
Alonso, was it?
Emilia continued providing commentary, shifting between the Climbers and the incoming wave, but it was clear where the real focus was.
The broadcast kept returning to the young couple—because that’s what they were calling it now—soaring through the sky together.
Different angles, slow-motion replays, and even subtle filters that softened the lighting, making the moment feel almost cinematic.
Santi trusted Ayu’s judgment. Always had. But he couldn’t ignore the flicker of concern about this young man—from Spain or was it Australia?
He had never imagined his little girl ending up with a foreigner, and truth be told, he wasn’t particularly fond of the idea.
But then, the camera zoomed in on Ayu’s eyes as she watched the horizon, standing side by side with him.
Santi exhaled, a small smile tugging at his lips.
That look… it told him everything.
“Alonso, huh?”
