Extract from the -{ Tome of Light }- the divine scripture of the Church of Light.

"When the cosmos align in celestial harmony, behold the eternal truth that I am the center of all existence. Let my light penetrate your soul, guiding you towards the ultimate destiny that I, and I alone, have ordained." (The Inevitability of Light - 1:6)

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The booming declaration echoed through the stark white room, causing Asher to spin around defensively, his katana clutched tightly to his chest. His heart raced as he scanned the empty space behind him, confusion clouding his senses. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the sound of his own rapid breathing.

Slowly, Asher turned back to face the kneeling man, his muscles tense with anticipation. He glanced left and right once more, the featureless white walls seeming to close in around him. Finally, with a voice barely above a whisper, he asked, "Are you talking to me?"

The man - Winston - raised his head deliberately, his gaze locking onto Asher with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. "There is no one but the master, his contracted beings, and this humble servant here," he replied, his voice smooth and controlled.

As Winston's features came into full view, Asher felt a surge of irrational annoyance. The man before him was irritatingly handsome, with a broad frame and lean figure that spoke of hidden strength. His jet-black hair fell in silky waves, framing a face that seemed sculpted to perfection. But it was the knowing smile playing at the corners of Winston's lips that truly grated on Asher's nerves.

Forcing himself to focus, Asher took a deep breath. "Ahem, I see," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "If I'm getting this correctly, there is only us here, and the tower master you're referring to is... me?"

"Affirmative," Winston replied, his smile never wavering.

Asher's mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. "Is that so?" he said, a note of skepticism creeping into his voice. "Well, I think you have the wrong person. I'm not this tower's master or anything like that. I'm just here to climb this tower."

Winston's eyes glinted with amusement. "Did you open the tower with a key given to you by the 'remnant' hermit turtling in the divine creation system?"

The oddly specific question caught Asher off guard. "Uh, if you mean the manager of the creation system, Mr. Guide, then yes," he admitted reluctantly.

"Then you are indeed my destined new master," Winston declared, his grin widening imperceptibly.

Asher felt a headache forming. "Look, man," he began, then sighed heavily. The situation was becoming increasingly surreal, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more going on than met the eye. Years of life experience had taught him that there were no free lunches in the world, and this seemed far too good to be true.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Asher decided to get to the heart of the matter. "Winston, right?" he asked, receiving a nod in confirmation. "Can you explain the whole picture to me... like, how exactly did we reach this point?"

As if reading Asher's thoughts about his uncomfortable posture, Winston gracefully rose to his feet. Asher couldn't help but notice that the man towered over him, adding another irritating quality to his growing list.

"Ah, yes, certainly," Winston began, his voice taking on a more formal tone. "I would like to start by introducing myself first, dear master."

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Asher nodded, trying to ignore the passionate form of address.

"While I may appear to be living, I am technically not," Winston continued, his words sending a chill through the air. "If I have to define my being, it would be that I am a 'homunculus' created by the one who made the tower in an age long forgotten."

The absurdity of the statement nearly caused Asher to lose his composure. But as he stood in this impossible white room, memories of his recent experiences flashed through his mind. He realized it was time to fully accept the reality of his situation - that the world he had known before was just a small dot in a vast multiverse, a place full of absurd realities that people from his tiny world would consider possible only in fiction.

"A homunculus, I see..." Asher murmured, more to himself than to Winston.

Winston's voice took on a reverent tone as he continued his tale. "The towers are the highest form of crafted artifacts, ones that contain their own spirits, making them sentient. The tower of eternal creation's spirit was imprisoned by the wretched deity, a maniac control freak."

As Winston spoke, the white room seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, as if responding to the weight of his words. Asher found himself drawn into the story despite his initial skepticism.

"The few who knew the history of the tower presumed that Master Norgrim Starforger grew greedy and wanted to own such a tower for himself," Winston continued, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. "However, that is false. His greed had another motive, a direction completely different. The mastersmith wanted to see the greatest creation of his life in its complete form, one that involved a spirit with free will. Yet the wretched deity denied him that, causing him to make this second tower to fulfill the master crafter's 'greed' - the greed to see their creation in its most perfect form. Master Norgrim Starforger did exactly that, an action that led to his demise, one he welcomed with open arms."

Asher could feel the mixture of wrath and sorrow emanating from Winston as he narrated this tale. If the story forming in his head from the pieces dropped by the man were true, such a reaction made sense.

"The master crafter knew that this tower would probably never find an owner under the watch of that corrupt deity," Winston continued, his voice growing more intense. "Hence, he crafted this body for me, the tower spirit, to reside in so that I may venture out to find a suitable owner. Yet the wretched one was cruel beyond belief and sealed the tower completely after executing the master smith."

The air in the room seemed to grow heavy as Winston's tale approached its climax. "During the war of light and darkness, the tower was lost to the void in the grand turmoil. The seal of the deity was broken, however, he was stubborn and merciless. He commanded Lady Fortuna to-"

"To cut all the ties of the fate of this tower to the multiverse," Asher interrupted, surprising Winston with the knowledge. "And she did so until the honorable Dusk Herald came to her and asked her to let the tower see the light of the multirealms again so that it may find a worthy owner. And Lady Fortuna honored the herald's request."

Winston's eyes widened slightly, a glimmer of approval shining in their depths. "Ah yes, indeed. It seems dear master is quite quick to uptake," he said, the sly grin returning to his face with full force.

Asher's eyebrow twitched in irritation. He sat down on the floor, cross-legged, his katana resting across his lap. One hand supported his chin, elbow resting on his thigh, while the other hand rested on his opposite leg. Winston mirrored his action, sitting at a distance in a perfect seiza posture that only served to annoy Asher further.

In the background, Inky and Jormu, seemingly uninterested in the conversation, chased each other around the large white room. Their playful antics provided a stark contrast to the weighty discussion taking place.

Asher found himself at a crossroads, unsure of how to proceed. His instincts told him that Winston meant him no harm, but the whole situation felt orchestrated, as if he was being led down a deliberate path. Winston sat in silence, that knowing grin still plastered on his face, as if he was well aware of Asher's internal struggle.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Asher closed his eyes, trying to center himself. The silence stretched on, broken only by the faint sounds of Inky and Jormu's play.

Finally, Winston broke the silence, his voice taking on a reassuring tone. "If the tower master is uncertain that accepting me would lead to increased responsibilities and risks, then the dear master can be rest assured that no new responsibilities or risks will be added to your future beyond those you have already consented to."

Asher's eyes snapped open, fixing Winston with a skeptical gaze. "How so?" he asked, unable to keep the wariness from his voice.

"I and the tower are the same," Winston explained, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "The tower is my main body, and I its spirit. The quest dear master is already undertaking, the one to climb the tower to its peak, is actually the rite of passage towards complete ownership of the tower."

As Winston continued his explanation, Asher felt a growing sense of disbelief. The realization that he had been set on this path from the moment he received the key settled over him like a heavy blanket.

"Since I am the spirit of the tower, in other words, its soul," Winston said, his voice taking on a peculiar cadence, "it is also necessary to conquer me (accept my servitude*) other than my body (the tower itself*), to gain complete ownership of me (of the tower*)."

The selectively arranged words sent a shiver down Asher's spine. He looked up to see that same devilish grin on Winston's face, unchanged throughout the nonsense he had just spouted. Asher found himself having to selectively filter the words spoken, each time increasing his irritation.

As he sat there, staring at Winston's smug expression, a realization dawned on Asher. 'He's enjoying himself, isn't he?' The thought only served to deepen his annoyance, even as a part of him couldn't help but admire the homunculus's audacity.

The white room seemed to pulse with unseen energy as if responding to the growing tension between Asher and Winston. The weight of destiny pressed down on Asher's shoulders, leaving him to wonder what challenges lay ahead in his journey to the tower's peak - and in dealing with this infuriatingly charming servant.