Cross sat up in bed, his mind racing as the flood of memories from his new body continued to pour in. As much as he hated to admit it, the whole "reincarnation" deal was shaping up to be a lot more complicated than he'd thought. Sure, powers and cool fantasy stuff? Great. But this? This was a whole new level of weird.
Towers.
Rankers, Towers, Fiends—it was like someone had taken every power fantasy novel and mashed them together with a dash of apocalyptic horror. The existence of Towers and Rankers was common knowledge in this world, though his body's memories didn't provide a deep dive on the higher-ranked towers.
But the basics? Cross had those down now.
The towers were essentially these massive, mystical structures that littered the planet—six different types of them, to be precise, each corresponding to one of the six stages of power within the classes. The weak Rankers started with Tower 6s, the lowest and easiest to climb, though "easy" was a relative term when it came to risking your life. Tower 6s had the most floors, often grinding down even the most determined climbers with relentless challenges. Higher towers, like the Tower 1s, were on an entirely different level, with fewer floors but exponentially more dangerous. Only the most elite of the elite made it that far.
Rankers, those brave or foolhardy enough to enter the Towers, were ranked on the Global Ranking by the World Ranker Organization, or WRO for short. Cross found that pretty funny. Some secretive, shadowy organization monitoring the progress of all these maniacs trying to scale giant death-traps? Sounded like something ripped from a dystopian novel. But here, it was just reality. Rankers would be assigned their place in the hierarchy based on the number of towers they cleared and how many fiends they'd managed to kill.
Oh yeah. The fiends. Those were new. And terrifying.
Cross grimaced as the memory fragments continued to sift through his brain. The more towers you cleared, the stronger you became, largely because of something called Tower Items—magical artifacts or enhancements that could supercharge a Ranker's abilities. Each tower provided better and better items as you progressed. These items were also a source of prestige, boosting your rank and ensuring you'd be respected—or feared.
"Right, so," Cross said to himself, pacing around the room, "climb towers, get items, kill fiends, get ranked. Sounds simple enough."
But it wasn't simple. His body's memories didn't provide much info on what lay beyond Tower 5s, but Cross could already tell that things got progressively more intense as you went higher. The gap between a Tower 5 and a Tower 1 might as well be the distance between Earth and the moon. And it wasn't just the towers themselves that got harder—the fiends inside were something out of a nightmare.
The third fact about this new world, the one that made Cross's skin crawl? The fiends were real. They weren't just obstacles inside the Towers; they were abominations, born out of pure chaos. Fiends were twisted, monstrous beings that radiated an energy eerily similar to One's signature, though distorted and dark, like it came from the same source but had gone horribly wrong. These creatures didn't just attack mindlessly; they were cunning, vicious, and every bit as dangerous as the Towers themselves.
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"What the hell is wrong with this world?" Cross muttered.
Cross was no hero. He didn't sign up for this expecting to be some glorious adventurer. If he had a choice, he'd steer clear of these fiends entirely. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like he'd have that luxury. If One's little gift was anything to go by, Cross was most likely a Talent Holder—one of those rare individuals who possessed extraordinary abilities beyond just the standard Ranker classes.
His talent? Probably those ocular abilities he'd requested from One before being dropped into this mess. They hadn't manifested yet, but Cross was starting to get the feeling they'd kick in when he least expected them.
Memories continued to spill into his mind, confirming his suspicions. Talents were incredibly rare. Only about one in every hundred Rankers ever had one, and when they did, they were the people you didn't want to mess with. Talent Holders were the apex predators in this twisted world. They climbed the Towers faster, killed fiends more efficiently, and dominated the upper echelons of the Global Rankings.
People joked about "holding a Talent Holder's thigh" before they bloomed—basically, riding their coattails to success. Cross would've laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, but his growing realization that he was now one of these rare individuals sobered him up.
It didn't take long for the final puzzle piece to slot into place.
Fiends, as horrifying as they were, held the key to upgrading and refining a Talent Holder's abilities. Killing a fiend wasn't just about clearing a Tower floor; it was about taking their cores, purifying them, and absorbing their energy.
But of course, it came with a catch.
"There's always a catch," Cross groaned. Fiend cores were dangerous. The process of absorbing one required immense control and discipline. If you weren't careful, the fiend's core could absorb you instead, turning you into a mindless, walking corpse, driven by the fiend's chaotic energy. There were stories of Rankers who had tried to rush their progress, only to return from the Tower… not themselves anymore.
Cross swallowed hard. "So, my best path forward involves fighting nightmare creatures, stealing their energy, and hoping I don't turn into a zombie in the process. Great. This is totally what I signed up for."
Despite the gravity of the situation, Cross couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement underneath the dread. Sure, the fiends were terrifying, and the idea of being trapped in some cosmic power struggle wasn't exactly comforting, but there was something exhilarating about the potential of his new abilities.
If he could survive this—if he could figure out how to climb the Towers and avoid getting eaten by some chaos monster—he could become something truly powerful. Maybe even crack the Global Rankings one day.
Cross chuckled to himself, shaking his head. "Not bad for a guy who just died on the toilet."
He sat back down on the bed, staring at the ceiling as his mind continued to whirl. One had dropped him into this world, told him to enjoy it, but clearly, there was more going on. The Towers, the fiends, the Global Rankings… it was all too big, too organized to be just a coincidence.
"What's your game, One?" Cross whispered to the empty room. He wasn't going to get any answers sitting here, though. He needed to get moving, to figure out how this world worked and what his next steps were.
First things first: he needed a plan.
Step one? Survive.
Step two? Climb the damn towers.
Step three? Don't get eaten by fiends.
Easy enough, right?