Chapter 152
Wayward Ways
Cain stepped out onto a balcony and yawned, lazily stretching and scratching underneath the morning sun. L.A. had calmed down over the last four months that he had been here -- rather, the entire world seemingly did. There were fewer and fewer inter-country skirmishes, no border crossings, and the lines around the Tower had thinned down considerably.
Some resemblance of normalcy had been restored to the everyday living, but the magic of the Towers was yet to even thin out, let alone disappear. News about it still swarmed the TV and the internet, new lists being birthed on daily basis, new creatures and races that have been discovered, queer items, the easiest and hardest classes to play, differences between the floors, optimal party setup... ‘experts’ appeared on interviews every day chiming in with their view on things, and people sucked it all in wholeheartedly even if they had no intentions of ever stepping inside the Tower.
Most of the 'experts' were wrong on most things, though, ever so often, Cain would come across someone who looked to have a clue or two. He didn't look for precise information as that was wishful thinking, but perceptive insight; taking what is seen on the surface and breaking down the possibilities further. That was why he got up this early today -- at the tick of dawn -- because he had a meeting with one such person in an hour.
The man's name was Ernie Judson, thirty-four-year-old ex-professor of physics who'd given up his career in it and focused on studying the 'phenomenon of the Towers' ever since they fell. Cain watched one of his interviews yesterday and realized that the man, despite having never actually stepped into the Tower, had a few decent insights; namely, that correlation between 'skill' and 'levels' was minimum, that stats on items mattered far less than its extra options, and, at the protest of his hosts, he even suggested that Cain's little theatrics with the fireball the size of a small asteroid were just that -- smoke and mirrors, and that the better path to take was to condense Mana into a singular point.
Cain took a quick shower and downed some cereal for breakfast before donning on a half-decent suit and walking down into the lobby of the building. The meeting was arranged at 8 A.M. in the tiny restaurant just next to the lobby; it was no interview, so only the two of them would be present. By the time Cain arrived there, the man was already sitting alone on one of the tables facing the windows, sipping a cup of coffee and reading something on his phone.
Cain chuckled lightly, donning the mask and walking over slowly, sitting opposite of the man without saying the word.
“Ah, you must b-b-b-be--” the man stuttered hollowly when he saw the masked face opposite of him, his extended arm shaking.
“Yes, I’m here to kill you.”
“Yii!!”
“I’m just kidding man, ha ha ha,” Cain laughed freely at the man’s exaggerated reaction of genuinely falling out of the chair, prompting the latter to grunt as he awkwardly sat back up. “Relax; it’s just a complex I have about my face.”
“... ugly?”
“Na, too beautiful. Everyone tends to fall in love with me -- men or women. I can’t risk it.”
“...”
“True story.”
“... sure. You... you aren’t what I imagined.”
“A murdering psycho that gets a boner each time he stabs someone up their ass?” Cain quizzed.
“Something like that... yes,” Ernie chuckled, taking a sip of the coffee as his nerves began to calm.
“Though the rest of the world would laugh if they heard me,” Cain said. “Killing people is only, like, sixteenth on my ‘favorites’ list, right behind carving pumpkins in the shape of cocks.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“... why am I here, Mr....?”
“Dragon.”
“...”
“What? That’s my nickname,” Cain chuckled as Ernie held back a groan. “As to why you’re here... I watched your interview with that snob Kevin.”
“He was a bit of a snob...”
“And I’d like to offer you a job.”
“... huh?” of all the things he expected coming here, especially after seeing who he was meeting, this certainly was not one of them.
“Too many people are caught up in the storm of the Towers,” Cain elaborated. “Their eyes dreamy and mystical, brains not functioning. So, whenever I come across someone even remotely rational, I invite them to join me.”
“... you’re... you’re serious?” Ernie asked with a somewhat pensive expression.
"Of course," Cain chuckled. "While everyone was pissing and shitting their pants over my little show, you looked at it directly and realized it was just bloating. And even if you've never personally experienced Mana, you presented a very decent understanding of how it functions. My party and I have run into quite a few confusing things that we were unable to solve, so I wanted to create a new department exclusively for that -- which you'd head if you take the job."
“Things like what?” Ernie asked with widened eyes, his interest spiking.
"One time," Cain said. "We ran into a phenomenon of higher dimensions where we were tasked to break down an artificially-made object that acted similarly to a black hole, yet also to a star. The concept of not only time but, at least as far as we perceived, even other, higher dimensions was coming undone before our eyes within a localized bubble. Plus, we've come across numerous runic languages, and I figured it'd be for the best if we tried deciphering them as early as possible so that we don't stumble later on."
“I’ll do it!” Ernie exclaimed abruptly. “About that device... could... could you take me there?”
“... in time,” Cain smiled lightly. “First order of business would be going with me to the second floor.”
“H-huh?”
“I need to reconvene with my party there, after which I wanna visit a place your help would be needed. On the way, I can also help you get a class and teach you some rudimentary basics you completely fucked up.”
“Such as?” Ernie asked, his brows furrowed.
"Mana... isn't just energy," Cain said, lifting his finger and condensing a milky-white streak of energy that swirled around his finger. "Think of all basic forces of the universe -- the most basic principles of physics that you abide by -- and combine them into the universal truth that has been eluding us for so long."
“... and... that’s... Mana?”
“And that’s Mana,” Cain nodded as the streak of energy suddenly pulled Ernie in before pushing him back, after which it acted as a temporary electromagnetic field. “It has all properties... and yet none. However, we still know next to nothing about it, in reality. We don’t know what it is or how it's even possible for it to exist; we don't know how our bodies are able to act as conduits and handle it; we've yet to learn the extent to which it can be utilized. Enter... you."
"..." he had him, Cain knew; the combination of mystique and the man's thirst for answers overruled the primal side of the brain that screamed 'it's too dangerous'. Of all the things that would change about humanity as the years went by, the curiosity never went away -- it stayed as rooted as the people's fear of death, overwhelming their basic instincts time and again. 'Maybe just a peek', or 'It can't hurt to try', or 'Answers are worth any price'.
Even twenty-five years into the future, people were diving into the unknown out of pure curiosity, tossing aside those voices that kept them alive all those years at a chance of finding something wondrous and beyond all else.
There was a certain beauty in nature with which the humanity dealt with the Towers; past all the horrifying dread, and past the cruelty of survival, at the very core of what built up the humanity from huts to skyscrapers, the solitary trait that would prevail through all else -- that thirst. As much as people hated the dark, they dreaded far more never finding out what exactly lives there.
There was something uplifting about it, hidden amidst the betrayals, treasons, backstabbings, and a myriad of other, equally horrifying acts; that singular voice that unified everyone -- the brave, the scared, the indifferent, the interested... underneath the umbrella of desire to know more, a tiny sense of equality would be achieved.
“When... when do we leave?” Ernie asked.
“In two hours,” Cain replied.
“Give me three.”
“Fine.”
“I’ll be right back! Wait--can I bring anyone else?”
“Two more people, max.” Cain said.
“Yes!! Alright, I--I have so much to do! I’m off!”
“Good luck.”
Cain watched the excited man with a faint smile on his face; even he wasn't immune to the almost childlike excitement that inspired. Among the sea of insipid and detached, Cain always believed people like Ernie ought to don the mantle of the guiding beacon for the world -- those who looked at a new item in the Tower and didn't immediately conspire how to steal it, but rather wondered whether they could be replicated, or its individual traits at least, and how can they best be utilized for the betterment of everybody.
I’ve done all I can here, Cain said, sighing lowly. Three months. I just need three months, Ricky, to secure us a nice place higher up from that sewage. After that, you will remain untouched for all eternity. Just three months, Ricky. Just three months.