Chapter 7: Shadows of the Past
Chapter 7: Shadows of the Past
The Tower loomed like a colossal sentinel, its upper reaches swallowed by a haze of ethereal light. The lower floors throbbed with life, housing the ambitions and fears of countless souls. In his grand chamber high above, Jihad, the King of the Tower, reclined on his obsidian throne, his expression a mix of disdain and boredom.
The throne room was a grand spectacle, with high ceilings that echoed the whispers of his past victories. Dark stone walls bore the weight of history, adorned with artifacts from countless conquests—trophies of his dominion over the lower realms. The air hummed with power, a reminder of his unyielding control over the Tower and its inhabitants. Each day, he watched as mortals scurried about like ants, their lives entwined in a web of insignificance.
Jihad had long since learned to view the world through a lens of superiority. The Irregulars—those rare, extraordinary beings capable of challenging the very laws of the Tower—were the only ones who garnered his respect. Everyone else, he believed, was beneath him, their struggles nothing more than fleeting shadows in the grand tapestry of his reign.
His thoughts drifted to the girl he had encountered during her training. Ariel—a name that had begun to echo in his mind, capturing his curiosity. He had first seen her as a mere child, but the raw potential he sensed within her sparked something uncharacteristic in him. Perhaps it was the glimmer of hope for a true ally, someone who could stand beside him as he navigated the treacherous waters of power.
Jihad leaned back in his throne, swirling a goblet filled with the finest Shinsoo-infused wine. The liquid sparkled like a thousand stars, a fitting tribute to his status. He could almost hear the whispers of his long-dead companions, urging him to take action, to seek out those who could help him fulfill his vision for the Tower.
As he pondered, a messenger entered the chamber, bowing low before him. "Your Majesty, news from the lower floors. There are murmurs of unrest among the families. They grow bold in their ambitions."
"Let them chatter," Jihad replied dismissively, his voice a low rumble. "They have forgotten their place."
"Yet, there are reports of a young girl—Ariel—who has been training tirelessly. Some say she possesses abilities beyond even her understanding."
Jihad's interest piqued. "Ariel? The child I saw during her training?" The thought intrigued him. If the girl could harness her potential, she might prove to be more than just a fleeting curiosity.
"Indeed, Your Majesty. She shows promise. Perhaps she could be a valuable asset."
Jihad's lips curled into a sly smile. "Very well. Arrange for me to meet her. I would like to see firsthand what this child is capable of."
With that decision, Jihad felt a shift within himself—a rare anticipation that something significant was about to unfold.