Owen coughed and slipped forward as a dagger retreated from his front. He reached up to slash at his attacker, but Marcus had already backed out of his reach. Camila dashed between them and ripped the dove from Ezra’s hands. The Thorin-sphere hit the ground.

That didn’t matter now. Dark liquid pooled beneath Owen. The light from his green eyes faded with every second that passed. Milo was screaming something, but Ezra couldn’t hear.

“We passed.” Ezra’s voice shook. His tongue felt numb. “We’re sky-seekers.”

Marcus glared at him, confused, only for a second, before he dashed off after Camila.

“Get up. We passed. We have to make it to the top.” Ezra cupped one of Owen’s hands in his. It was growing cold. Colder than any winter he could remember. How cold can the wind blow? The memory invaded his mind. No, not now. Vision, record, echo, dream. Whatever it was. All of it didn’t matter. “The true wind, Owen. You were supposed to wait for me.”

Owen’s eyes were blank. No life was left to respond.

Milo gave up on calling him and took action. Racing ahead of Ezra, he picked up the Thorin-sphere. He shoved it into Ezra’s hands.

“How do you access the inventory?” Milo pulled at Ezra’s shoulders. “Ezra! How do I get to the bird? The test isn’t over till we have the ribbon!”

“No, the test is far from over.” Ezra dragged Owen’s crimson-soaked sword from the ground. Using it to steady himself, he got up. His mind went blank, and Milo’s voice faded into nothing.

“Ezra! It’s almost over. Let's finish it.”

He dropped the orb and glanced around the room for a boy with curly black hair and daggers. Daggers stained with Owen’s blood. He spotted Camila in the far left corner. She held up a white ribbon and along with her team, disappeared in a puff of blue dust. Marcus jumped through but caught nothing.

Rage coursed through Ezra’s body as he marched towards the murderer. His knuckles turned white with fury as he gripped Owen’s sword. Unsheathing his unblemished sword, Ezra’s walk evolved into a sprint. One of Marcus’s teammates noticed him approaching and took a defensive stance.

Ezra ducked below a wide swing and thrust Owen’s sword through the man’s jaw. Blood foamed from the man’s mouth as Ezra used the second sword to lop off his fighting hand. He missed, just slightly, and only hit the man’s fingers. The appendages slid across the floor, leaving filthy trails of blood. Pain exploded in Ezra’s side as another of Marcus’s teammates charged him and sent him sprawling across the floor. Drawing air back into his lungs, Ezra clawed back to his feet and lept on the man. A fist hit his side, then nails tore at his thighs. Another jab, this time in the throat, sent him gasping for air, but nothing could get him off. He tried to scream, but could only let out a hoarse gurgle. Driving both of his swords into the man’s chest, nothing was real. Not even the pain that shrieked at him to stop. I have to get to Marcus. Again, he plunged the swords in. I have to get to Marcus. Ezra’s hands were red. I have to get to Marcus. He didn’t dare to look down.

Marcus was only a few feet away. He sneered at the dissipating blue smoke. Ezra screamed, words deafened by his wrath. Rushing forward, the sides of his vision darkened until he was solely focused on Marcus. Moments before he stuck, Marcus’s eyes darted toward him. Then the room changed.

Ezra stumbled forward, lodging both swords in the ground as Milo stepped aside. The white walls were gone, and with them, Marcus. He collapsed and stared forward, the adrenaline of the moment quickly leaving his body. Air left his lungs faster than he could keep it in until his breathing turned to whimpers that abated a forming sob.

“Why did you?”

“Because I had to,” Milo replied. “I couldn’t lose both of you.”

Ezra took in the room around him. This one was gray with no obvious exit. Camlia’s group huddled at the opposite end. Every single one of them. Alive. It all seemed like a sick dream. He dropped the swords. As they hit the ground, the metal rang throughout the room like a funeral bell.

Another group of people popped into existence. He didn’t recognize them. Their faces were still stained from battle. Ezra squeezed his hands tight. Watery liquid dripped from his fingers, and a shiver ran up his spine. Crimson soaked his palms. Milo took a step back, and the reality of those few seconds rushed through Ezra like a freezing river.

His legs gave way. Not even tears could appear. It was too much. “Why, Milo?”

Milo frowned, but nothing came from his lips.

“I don’t get it. We won,” Ezra muttered. “We won.” Another group flashed into the room and Ezra looked up at Milo. “What lie do I have to tell myself to keep going?”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“What?”

“We promised him to make it to the top. Didn’t we?”

Milo shuddered and took a seat next to Ezra. “We did.” His voice flowed easily and softened Ezra’s raging thoughts. “So don’t tell yourself a lie. You know why we have to keep going.”

Another group appeared in the room, and a voice came from the walls. “Welcome new sky-seekers. All of you have successfully passed the qualifying test. Your A.S.H.O. augmentation will be delivered shortly.”

A flash of light filled the room, and it felt like its rays bored into their heads. Ezra opened his eyes and was met with a shimmering gray screen. Not too different from the Thorin-sphere’s blue inventory screen. A bar crossed the top. Below the bar, the word robustness, with a zero next to it, glowed. Further down, skill was written in big white letters. Ezra reached to tap on the letters, but a high-pitched ding briefly filled his skull. He noticed Milo wince at the sound also. Good, it's not just me. The sound wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, just unexpected.

The bar at the top of the screen flashed as it began to fill. Small numbers at the bottom right of the bar rapidly increased. The letters e, x, and p shimmered next to the numbers. Ezra had no idea what they meant. A box flashed in front of him.

Congratulations, you killed Human

Then another.

Congratulations, you killed Human

He felt like he was going to throw up.

Congratulations, you killed Human

The last box stayed, but the numbers kept going up. The words stared back at him mercilessly. Shaking, Ezra pressed the x to close the box. His red hands left no mark on the screen. Congratulations. Congratulations. Bile twisted in his stomach. It’s praising me. The system is praising me. The laws of the abyss are rewarding me. For. For. He tried to wipe the blood off, but it stubbornly refused to go. Panic filled his mind, echoing, echoing. Every scream, every guttural cry, pitiful cry, terrible cry. All echoed in his mind. The numbers stopped, and another box appeared.

Level 4 achieved

Would you like to distribute points to your skill or robustness?

He ignored the question, lost in a place that had no concept of who he was. Trapped between the world of Deepburrow and the world of sky-seekers. He wanted to feel nothing, know nothing, be empty, but the words of the system rang in his mind.

“Sweet! Level ten. Five more than you. Looks like our strategy paid off.”

He gazed up at Marcus across the room, beaming ear to ear. The black-haired boy teased his companions as they compared levels. He passed? The question rolled through his mind over and over until a wave of anger rose from the void. Ripping his swords from the ground, Ezra lunged towards him.

His blade was moments away from slicing Marcus in two when his whole body went stiff and hit the floor. Although paralyzed, he could see a doorway opening. Light flooded in from the outside, and a man in a black suit walked in. His long tailcoats curled up behind him. People parted as he walked towards Ezra. He felt different than everyone else in the room as if an aura of power emanated from him.

“Now, haven’t we had enough killing for today?” He crouched as Ezra glared at him. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“You let us kill each other in there. What difference does one more make?”

The man sighed, and his cheeks sagged as he looked around the room. “Because then we would have less qualified sky-seekers. That was the testing ground. Everyone here has earned the right to live another day. Here at the Sky-seeker’s Office of Trainees, it is our job to provide qualified candidates to the guilds and corporations of the higher layers.”

“I don’t plan on joining a guild or corp,” A pungent venom seeped into Ezra’s voice.

“I’ve heard it all before. Don’t think you're any different.”

“You don’t control my decisions.”

“Oh, you are quite right. I don’t.” The man got quieter and leaned in closer. Ezra could feel the administrator’s breath on his face. “You are free to do what you like, but if you want to survive, you’ll heed my advice. The system owes you nothing, but you owe everything to the system, and there are people who know how to utilize it much better than you do.” The man got up with energy that belied his age. “Everyone follow me. Just a few more formal procedures before each of you officially become sky-seekers.”

The invisible hold over Ezra’s muscles released their grip. Milo rushed over as others were already on their way out and bent down to help him. As he left, Marcus turned and flipped Ezra off. A single line of red ran along his cheek.

Ezra smiled. He had hit him. Milo put an arm around Ezra and helped him up. “Was that some sort of skill? It was like your brain just shut off.” Milo stared after the rest of the group.

Ezra said nothing. Everything seemed to trap him; make rules for him. First White Rock, then the sky-seekers, and now this mysterious system. A system he would owe the rest of his life to. When can I live life by my own rules, he wondered. Perhaps if I go higher. The strange memory flashed through his mind again. Always higher. The words of his mother and then the words at the lighthouse and Owen’s wish came next. Till our humanity hungers no more. The true wind. Not bound by the rules of man or the abyss.

Milo pulled him towards the door and Ezra shifted his weight onto his own two feet. Standing taller, he stared after Marcus. Fury simmered beneath the surface. The time for revenge would come, but that was not all.

“We are making it to the top,” Ezra said. This time determination filled his words. “Owen’s dream won’t die here.”

End of Arc 1: Rebirth of a Dream