The Administrator

[ Warning! You are approaching the end of the map! ]

[ Error! Error! ]

[ Error! You have reached outside Gate 13's parameters! ]

[ Error! Error! ]

Dasha opened his eyes. He wasn't falling, he was seated. He was somewhere that tasted like purified oils and paint. A yellow space rather large and occupied by several shelves, a wide workbench, and boxes with materials. A hooded man sat ahead with large arms and shoulders that pressed through his robes. His back was turned, inscribing on a tablet with a reed styluses. The grayness of his robes blended into the walls.

Yellow and gray? They shouldn't have come together yet did.

It was difficult to tell if this hooded entity was even alive until his black boots appeared out from beneath the robes and his arms shifted along with his bamboo-red stylus.

"So you have arrived at last. I have long awaited your arrival, Valknut."

Dasha's expression remained unchanged even behind his mask.

The hooded man spoke again. "Are you apart of Li Xuanming's Sect?"

"This should be the Hidden Objective," Dasha stated. "Where is it?"

"The Orthodox Sect—as greedy as ever, I see." The hooded man stopped writing. He peered over his shoulder, his hood just barely hiding his features. "Take it."

[ HIDDEN OBJECTIVE found! ]

[ Congratulations! ???

HIDDEN OBJECTIVE: ???

Receive:

100,999 XP

9,999,999 PP ]

Not even a level increase. "Is this all you can offer?"

"A gate naturally absorbs leftover particles of energy and uses it to fuel players with XP. The greater the level, the higher levels of mana. The better condition a dead creature is, the more mana is syphoned. That is how the Heavenly Tower's gates function at the very basic level. In this realm, there is nothing. It is but a glitch that I managed to sneak in as an Administrator."

'Administrator? Administrator…a rank, clearly, but how do they connect to the Architects? Judging by his tone, it seems to be a position of great authority. Is it akin to the ranks bestowed in player dimensions? Guest, membership, and administrator…'

If that was the case, then following that line of thought meant that the Administrator was at the very top of the hierarchy.

"They say the creators of the Heavenly Tower specially built this gate—"

Dasha stared at the shadow covering his face. 'So he must be the creator Daughter spoke of.'

"It must be difficult to avoid detection," Dasha said. "I presume that's why you couldn't gather too much mana?"

"Sharp. Very sharp, my friend." The Administrator turned back to his tablet and started writing again. "That's right. This gate was specifically built for the Eye of Odin. It possesses an ability that discards reality itself. The mist that I planted would be useless."

The Eye of Odin. This was the second time that he mentioned it. Dasha was missing something. 'Is he referring to the eye Odin sacrificed? Assuming that is the case, that means someone possesses Odin's eye and was supposed to be here. They should have been capable of navigating through this mist much faster than I.'

After all, at this point, he had been here for almost four days. He meditated at the beginning and then brute-forced his way through finding the Will-o'-wisps and redwoods. In the days he was meditating and training, three days should have been enough.

The Administrator turned back. Dasha was able to catch a glimpse of his auburn beard and olive complexion. "Hm? Where is Odin's eye? I specifically instructed to bring the one with the eye."

Dasha didn't reply. He truly wasn't supposed to be here—and where was here anyway? Slowly, the longer he looked, the longer the Administrator understood: something was terribly wrong.

"I understand now," Dasha began. "You speak Hellenistic Greek."

"Oh?"

Dasha peered over his shoulder. What he saw was a wall of obsession. There was a map of the stars, the three proofs of Thales's theorem, specific diagrams of Egyptian pyramids, and, most terrifyingly, gruesome images of beautiful men and women. One of them was a majestic lady in Greek armour and eyes that flickered between gray and blue. He had seen many photos of this lady in the House of Wisdom: this was Athena. Within the bloody circle were her fellow Olympian gods. Necks were splattered with blood. Not a single one was spared.

A vendetta against the gods. A great mind. A repetition of the Ancient Greece language. Wax tablets leaning on the wall, some broken and others half-glowing from the magic imbued.

Dasha turned back over. "You must be Thales of Miletus."

His face was exactly as Wilhelm Meyer illustrated: handsome, traditionally Greek with dark blonde hair and a full-beard. His eyes were gray and piercing and became filled with a certain sharpness. He was a genius, there was no point in keeping up a meaningless charade.

"…who are you?" Thales asked.

Dasha didn't answer. He sat there, looking left and right, burning everything in this space into his brain.

"You are not supposed to be here—" Thales blinked, his words cut off by the sharp slash of air. Dasha Pang had attempted to lobotomize him, but as if he was an illusion, his black gauntlet phased right through him. "Oh?"

"The creator of the Heavenly Tower; or rather, one of the creators. I figured killing you would be impossible. That does beg the question…why are you here? They say Thales was the first in Greece to explain the world in a way that did not involve the gods. I've read the books in the House of Wisdom. Many of the magic folk trace the decline of the gods to you."

Thales stared up at him. "My masked friend, you are not supposed to be here."

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