Tap tap tap. Inside a dark room. Lit by the light of a laptop. Filled with the sounds of one's keyboard and the finger tapping on the wooden desk. Sat a man in a crossed position on his gaming chair. On a bright laptop inside a dark room, paragraphs of words are displayed. It was a novel.

Callan was your ordinary high school student. But at the moment, he was on his summer break. That just meant one thing to him. Write and write. Callan was an aspiring author who yearned for fame. Yes, fame. He didn’t care about money or any of such sorts. He only wanted to be popular and known.

Of course, if a person does want to be popular, novel writing isn’t going to be your first choice. Actually, it’s not even going to be on that list. The top will probably be either an actor or an online influencer. Being a writer won’t make you popular. But Callan was different. He didn’t want popularity to satisfy his desires, his reason is kind of sweet, that of a child.

“I’m thirsty…” Callan straightened his back, stretched his arms, placed down his legs, and dropped his arms to the side. “Just a few more hours and I'll sleep.” It was midnight at that point. But to him, that was just how he really slept. It’s truly unhealthy, and as some say, it might even kill you. But he has been doing that for years, there was no way that was true.

As Callan stood up and went out of his room to get water, I'll continue what I was saying. Callan was no ordinary writer. Or at least his goal was not just popularity. It was simple and bittersweet. Ever since he was a child, there was one feeling he had fun experiencing. That feeling was the feeling of inspiration.

That enlightenment a person experiences when something they read, watched, or saw, just activates something in their heart, mind, and soul. It said something along the lines of “WOW…” It was just a simple gasp, a gasp inside your body that it felt like you were being reborn.

Callan wanted to make others feel that. Through his stories, through his built-up landing, to build a literal thousand chapters story just to give a simple message. For example, to deliver the most impactful “I never gave up”. When the entire series was a thousand chapters of constant battles filled with tears of blood.

But he could never do that. And the reason was simple, he sucked at writing. He has tried everything, even having someone's work up on another monitor and copying their sentence structure. But that was stupid, it was never going to work. He just plainly, once again, sucked. But being the worst at writing wasn’t going to stop him.

Callan, in the span of half a year, has written 5 series which… he dropped. Because no one was reading them. It wasn’t getting attention as his grammar and “pacing” sucked. To be fair, if he wanted to give a deep line at the end of his story his pacing had to be good. So that was his fault, not gonna lie.

There was one secret though, that only he knew. “Man, the water was cold as fuck.” Oh, he’s back. Callan walked back to his desk and looked behind him towards his bed. The thought of sleeping crossed his mind. He shook his head and sat on his chair. “I guess, I’ll write “For Ever” for now.”

That secret was simple. Callan intertwined his hands and stretched them far. He raised his hands and reached for his ear pods. He started his playlist and began typing. Callan has written and dropped 5 series in just a few months. But in reality, he just stopped releasing them, it didn't mean he stopped writing them.

Callan just had one simple dream… it was to be the most popular writer in the entire world no matter what it took. After reaching that spot and gaining the amount of dedicated readers he wanted. He would create a story, a slow burn, so slow that a single chapter may not even be a day. And for what purpose do you wonder? Isn’t it obvious yet? Callan just wanted to be a writer… a writer that changes someone's life… that changes it for the better.

After 2 hours and finishing a 3 thousand word chapter, Callan laid back on his chair and stared at his bright laptop surrounded by the dark room. Then he blinked, and everything was bright.

He understood immediately. I really died from being in front of a computer for too long… you're right Mom… you’re… right… His fatigue was suddenly gone. With a stretch of his arms to the air. Leg spread in a V shape. He stood up and looked behind him to see an orb atop a pedestal. It feels…

The man walked closer to the orb as he observed every little detail, to its brightness, shadow, and the pedestal it was on top of. It was a Greek-like pedestal. After looking at the orb, when he reached it, he laid his hands on top of it.

[Callan Satchel]

[Level: 0]

[Strength: 1]

[Agility: 1]

[Endurance: 1]

[Magic: 1]

The orb shined with a light that blinded his eyes for a moment. He could see a slight text at the edge of his hands, as the others were probably covered by his own hand. He didn’t pay much attention to it as he slowly caressed the orb.

“This orb feels sad… or maybe it just feels cold…” His voice was filled with pity. He looked around and saw that he was in an endless white void. There was no sun, moon, clouds, nor stars. There were no walls in front, back, or sides. But there was just a floor, with uneven tiles and an orb in front of him.

“So… it’s just me and you.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

[Welcome]

“Oh… you could talk…”

The man looked around once more. And with his face filled with nothing but a deadpan expression. Eyebags that are as dark as the color black. Pupils that didn’t shine. A mouth that stayed flat and cheeks that dropped down. In just the span of a second. His face was filled with a smile as bright as the place he was at.

“Nice to meet you Orb, I’m Callen, let’s get along, ok.” The man removed his hands from the orb and started to stretch his entire body. I’m free… free… from being a shit author… His mind ran. It was filled with positive thoughts. Those that he has hidden from himself, or was that hiding for this moment. I can’t be a shit author… anymore…… a….. What am I saying! I’m free!

He observed everything in his surroundings and made a guess on where he was at. It was fully white, there was no other color you could see other than his own skin and clothing. He was fully presented as an eyesore in a beautiful painting of grace and tranquility.

The place also smells like blood. Actually to say it just smells like blood was an understatement. It reeked of blood. It was the only thing you could smell. But it wasn’t that bad. It was actually quite pleasant. It was like a newborn baby, presented with infinite possibilities.

Callan arranged his thoughts and memory. Gellon… He has died and he accepted that with no problem. I’ll miss you… His family? His friends? His home? His stories? What were those!? To him, all he had was this orb, an orb atop a pedestal. Goodbye forever… my children. He wasn’t sad, he hated that life, and everything in it. His current emotions weren't denial, it was real. And him? He was now just a newborn baby. Presented with infinite possibilities. It could simply just be explained. That Callan was insane. Well, let’s just let him have that.

Callan stared at his status screen and saw a wall of number 1. Just like my viewership!... a… “Well, this status screen is kind of a disappointment. Guess I need to work out or something.”

[Yes]

“Oh, you even agree mister orb. Wait, calling you mister orb sucks.”

And so, 100 thousand clients later. I know it’s such a far reach for your disbelief. But it was true. For the first time… the orb… it got a name…

“A white orb… you can display a screen, like a system, but that sounds stupid… an orb in the endless white void… snow… light… angel… Oh! There was that one word I had to search up for something! Mirai… cause you are my future.” The man smiled. He used a Japanese word that meant future. It felt a little odd, or uncomfortable, but the orb liked it. Though Callan later blushed and cringed from calling the orb such a name.

[Yes]

“Oh, you like that Mirai?”

[Yes!]

“I like your enthusiasm, anyway, so what am I supposed to do here?” Callan’s voice was turning more and more lively as time passed by. His voice was starting to be filled with energy. Then a screen above the orb appeared. He knew instantly, it was the reason he was there… and that, this really was his future…

[Endless Tower]

[Floor 1]

“You serious? Is it really endless?” The man asked in confusion. He was in disbelief. It seems like he really needed to put his mind into the world he was just placed into.

[Yes]

“Hmmm… I’m not the first person here am I?” Callan picked up from the reply of the orb. It wasn’t completely monotone. It had real emotions placed in it.

Callan, ever since he was a child, was a monster. Not some wild beast that bullied people or killed others. But he was a monster emotionally. He could feel what others felt, but he could never reciprocate their feelings. He never knows what to say to a sad person, or what boundaries are, or what happiness really is. Which really warrants him as a bad author. But it wasn’t like he didn’t work hard. Just to be seen as a normal person, Callen even had to study human psychology just to be normal. But that wasn’t very effective in the end.

[Yes]

“How many people? More than 10?”

[Yes]

“More than 100?”

[Yes]

“More than 10000?”

[Yes]

“You sure you ain’t playing with me Mirai?”

[Yes]

“Ok, so above 100000?”

[No]

“Then below 100000?”

[No]

“Oh… I'm the 100 thousandth. I don’t know how to feel about that. Well, I know how you feel though, and it hurts…” Callan couldn’t hold himself up and fell to the ground. He was the type of person to lie. And lie a lot. He did just put his mind to forgetting his past life, but that wouldn’t be easy. And now he was starting to feel guilty once more.

One hundred thousand lives was not a small number. Callan knew it. He could feel, he could see, just the sadness someone has to go through to be attached, love, to say goodbye to so many people.

“It’s inevitable, isn’t it… I’ll just die…”

[No]

“You don’t have to be so kind, out of 100 thousand people, I’m probably the worst candidate to be with you. I mean just look at my stats!”

[Yes]

“Hahahaha! Love your honesty there… I guess… if I'm gonna die either way… let’s see just how far I can climb your endless tower Mirai!”

Callen stood up with energy. He jumped and stretched his arms out for one last time. He raised his right arm and placed it beside the screen. With his left clutched. His legs pressed and his heart was pumping.

“I can’t make promises… but Mirai… I’ll be back… ASAP!” He yelled to the top of his lungs as it was cut by being teleported outside of the white realm to the first floor of the Endless Tower. This starts the journey, a long, long journey. Hope you can stay.

[Bye...]