It had been a few weeks since the incident during the survival combat class. The students involved were all treated, with some even going through therapy. Dickson continued his daily life as usual; however, there were moments when he would suddenly stop and stare toward the centre of the academy for a few seconds before moving on.
Amelia's social standing had completely collapsed. She was blamed by the other cadets as the cause of the incident and became avoided like the plague.
Close to the centre of the academy, inside a quiet building, there was a completely dark room. All curtains were drawn shut, and every light source had been turned off. On the bed in the centre of the room, a large lump rested beneath a white blanket. At the foot of the bed lay a panther formed entirely from shadows. It appeared lifeless, but whenever it detected even the faintest sound, its eyes would flick open, shifting between green and purple as it stared toward the door. When nothing happened, it returned to its slumber.
These figures were, of course, Kalon and Sazzy—though the panther did not yet know its name.
Kalon had been falling for a very long time. He was not entirely sure if he was falling or merely floating, but he preferred to believe he was moving. Shadows surrounded him endlessly; he could sense them, feel them. They were filled with emotions—sympathy, loyalty, and something else he couldn't yet understand.
He had plenty of time as he drifted through the darkness, so he let his scattered thoughts unravel.
'What should I name my shadow companion?'
'Who was that person that spoke to me earlier?'
'What's happening outside? Is Amy okay?'
'How long have I been here?'
Such questions drifted through his mind, and with nothing else to occupy him, he answered them one by one. This was how he chose the name Sazriel. He had read it in a book when he was younger and thought it sounded cool.
He'd also begun piecing together the identity of the mysterious man who had spoken to him. A survivor. Everyone had heard of them—those who lived within the Tower without becoming monsters or dying to them. Survivors of the Tower's depths.
But with so much empty time, how could Kalon not notice the contradictions?
'They can't be locals of the Tower. That would be impossible… no, actually, isn't the Tower itself contradictory?'
The Tower wasn't the source of humanity's abilities; it only increased the chances of awakening them. When entering the Tower for the first time—or under certain other conditions—Ascenders were dropped in random locations. Each region had completely different environments, ecosystems, and even skies.
'It's possible the Tower is a gateway—like the portals Ascenders use to return to Earth—but on a much larger scale. Otherwise, how could the same world have different numbers of suns and moons, or completely different star systems? If that's the case, then Survivors are just Ascenders from another world. Huh… doesn't that mean the terms "Ascender" and "Tower" are inaccurate? Why hasn't anyone corrected it? Could I be wrong?'
He eventually collided with something—a wall—and decided to set the mystery aside. There were more pressing matters.
What was his purpose?
Kalon didn't have some grand dream like other kids his age. He had no ambition tied to being an Ascender. If he hadn't been broke and living in the slums, he would never have chosen this path.
From his enlightenment, he knew the Shadow God—even in death—was influencing beings with strong affinities to shadow and death. It wouldn't let them die meaninglessly.
'And now that Noblesse guy is placing expectations on me…'
He wondered if he should report everything to the Ascenders Association once he awakened. Maybe they would protect him. But he dismissed the idea almost immediately.
'They'd probably kill me on the spot. Best case? Quick and clean. Worst case? Torture. I'm just a lone Ascender with no conne—'
His thoughts swirled violently. A deafening roar echoed inside his mind as his body shot upward with incredible speed.
Then—fingers moved.
'Fin… fingers… wait… my fingers. I'm awake.'
He shot upright, sending the blanket flying off him. A wide grin stretched across his face as he breathed in deeply.
"This is it… the fresh air of reality."
He turned toward the foot of the bed.
"How long was I out, lil' Sazzy?" he asked.
The black panther stood slowly, stretching. It paused and stared at him in confusion before Kalon's memories and thoughts rushed into its mind through their shared connection. Now, Sazriel knew the name Kalon had chosen for him—and everything Kalon had experienced during his unconscious state.
"I'm not sure," Sazriel said, "since I was asleep most of the time. But I know you have about a week and a half before you have to enter the Tower."
Kalon froze.
He had been gone for over a month. He had missed countless classes. And now he would soon be entering the Tower.
For a brief moment, he considered running away and returning to his old life. But he knew that the "Noblesse" would find him regardless. There was no escape.
He was lost. Completely unsure of what to do.
Then Sazzy spoke again.
"What are you scared of anyway? If that person wants something from you, he'll definitely give you benefits. And after you're done, you'll be at least as strong as him. Then you can live a good life without anyone's influence. If he wants to use you—just use him to become stronger."
Kalon was left dumbfounded by this response but after some careful thought he decided that it was his best option, after deciding he told sazriel about the most important thing he had learnt while falling through the embrace of darkness. He was only able to put it together while being pulled pack into his body through the loud ravings that resounded in his ears.
They were the words of the shadows around him, they were speaking in the language of the underworld — the world of death,even without knowing the language, Kalon was able to understand the words although the pain he felt when it resounded in his mind could only be described as harrowing.
He had learned a very important aspect of the creatures of shadows or rather apostles of death. These creatures were non-humans both in looks and mentality, they were formless and held the role of death keepers, being who watched over the underworld. Among them there was only one taboo; emotions. They believed that for such creatures after knowing what it was like to have emotions they would also lose their rationality and act based on intense emotions at certain points in time.
This really concerned Kalon since he had just experienced something similar some weeks ago, he knew what he had to do and what those shadows were trying to tell him. He would do it later, he just couldn't bring himself to do it now.
With everything settled, Kalon leaped off the bed as Sazzy turned into a formless shadow and flew into his body, he walked to a table next to the door noticing the cadet uniform on it. He changed from the hospital gown into his uniform and opened the door. He stepped out, leaving the quiet room behind—once again swallowed by darkness.