Chapter 3: All the Little Things
Thomas
Finally making it back to the alley. Thomas sat down on top of his box. Leaning back against the brick wall. Lifting the little flickering flame of his beaten old lighter to a cigarette. Thomas finally inhaled his first puff of nicotine for the day. He almost managed to smile. Letting out a contented sigh. As his sore chest, numb already from the cold, numbed further with the pleasant buzz of nicotine. Thomas just slightly warmer as the smoke filled his icy lungs.
He opened his eyes to watch the cold mist filling the air as his breath traveled through the chilly mid-morning air. Sparkling as it floated up into the sky, almost in defiance of the snow that so morosely dripped down from above. Feels kind of like a movie Thomas chuckled to himself at the thought of his life being in any way “Movie” related.
Thomas found himself at peace. Leaning against the wall, with a small smile. Simply enjoying the moment of peace. Fresh blood was still slowly dripping from his broken nose. Small drips glistened as they slowly dripped down, beading up and then falling off his chin. Down onto his worn blue sweatpants. Small white dots of fresh snow and red splotches of blood slowly covering his clothes.
He sat there like that for some amount of time. Trying to find the motivation to work more of his scam. But really just enjoying the feeling of contentment. He had nothing to fight against, no real enemies, no real threats. And even if he did. Thomas simply didn't have even a scrap of spiritual energy. No supernatural powers or magic artifacts. No power to fight anyone with.
Just getting by on the streets was victory enough for him.
About halfway through Thomas’s third cigarette of the day. He had moved even further back into the alley as the day continued to become colder despite the sun's hard efforts. Looking over he realized he now couldn't even see the busy streets from atop his box. Chuckling over the irony of a homeless person trying to feel safe in an alley out of public sight.
However, his dark sense of humor was quickly cut off when he felt the slight sensation of a warm breeze in front of him. Completely defying the logic of the Winterland all around him. He looked up to notice a large circle of air distorting in front of his face. As if heat was warping the air in front him.
He was glaring at this strange occurrence. Trying to decide if he had gone insane. A truly difficult answer to zero in on. Especially from within his own head.
But the small distortion only grew while he examined it. After a few more seconds Thomas even began leaning towards the disturbance. The mysterious heat source being a pleasant alternative to the cold winter day he had been stuck in before. Holding his hands out towards the warmth.
When suddenly, a blinding flash of light filled the air right in front of his face.
He scrambled back, pushing himself against the alley's brick wall with a frightened yelp. But right as he raised his hands in front of his face to block the light. It vanished, just as fast as it had appeared
However, the spots stayed in his eyes persistently. His temple pounding from the pain of processing the flash. The heat of his cigarette on his thigh helped him get a grasp on his surroundings and crawl back into awareness. Mumbling he picked it back up and shoved it between his lips.
He looked up trying to blink the last of the white splotches out of his eyes. Only to find himself staring up at a tall, beautiful woman.
Her brunette hair flowed down to frame a stern face. Black thin glasses accented her sharp, blue eyes. Her arms were crossed, and her expression carried a hint of stern rage.
Thomas, however, was more focused on the two massive white feathery wings stretching out from behind her back. A matching halo glowed softly over her head as she glowered down at him. Realizing suddenly that he was glaring at the pretty Angel and smoking a cigarette. He sat up slightly and tried to stop ruining his shot at heaven.
“Shit” he said, slumping right back down as he remembered he wasn't religious.
Might as well try smoking, even if I'm maybe a ghost right now he justified to himself. Lifting his cig once again to take another puff. The smoke spilled into his mouth and lungs fine and flowed out of his nostrils smoothly. Numbing the inside of his nose in a familiar way that made his nose twitch. Alright, that felt right, so I'm either alive or haunting a cigarette he confirmed.
He could have sworn her frown grew deeper.
Shaking that off, he tried to mentally prepare for eternal damnation. As best he could at least, it was only 11 am on a Tuesday after all.
Finally, she spoke. “Well, you obviously didn't bring me here. I can't even feel any Lei coming off you.” her tone was distracted as if Thomas didn't even warrant her full attention. The tall lady never even glancing a second time at Thomas while scanning the alley around them.
Thomas coughed nervously but didn't say anything. Uncomfortable with the silence he twisted on his makeshift seat. He had just almost decided to talk again, when the Angel started glowing for the second time since he met her.
He flinched, hands flying up to block his eyes. But the light never came. He lowered his hands.
The glow was far softer than before. Drifting around her in soft golden drops which, even as he was watching. Formed a thin trail of light floating through the air towards his chest. Looking up to her for an explanation he started to feel nervous as he saw that she seemed as surprised as he was by this new change. Lifting her hand and evaluating the glow warily she began lightly touching her skin looking puzzled.
A slight hint of alarm now covered her face “No, no I can't change hosts right now, especially not to this trash. No offense” she said. Apologizing quickly to Thomas with little sincerity. Her tone was authoritative. As if she was correcting the light itself. She began waving her hand through the hazy light between them.
It looked as if she might be trying to stop it from flowing from her into his chest. In response the speed of the light flowing increased as she accidentally reached closer toward him in her waving. It began pouring into Thomas’s chest like a building flood, beading up all over his skin and clothes like water.
The struggle escalated for a few more seconds with both sides taking heavy losses. Clothes in disarray, feathers ruffled, and missing her glasses the angel now floated above the ground with her legs and arms wrapped around an offended seeming golden blob. The now more physical mass of caramel-like golden energy kept jabbing toward Thomas before the angel used quick hand signs to pull it back through some supernatural means. Yelling “No!” sharply every time she used her powers to stop the blob's escape attempts.
“I'm on a mission right now! Trust me it's the wrong time to move, I promise! Just trust me!” she growled now biting at the blob. Which wobbled angrily and pulled her hair setting her off on another minute of yelps as she wrestled the seemingly sentient goop. After many painful twists a new stalemate was reached. The angel now had both hands forming a hand sign in front of her chest. Gritting her teeth, with veins bulging from her forehead. Her hair was visibly floating around her head with small pops of lighting dancing through it as she clearly struggled to keep the liquid circling through the air around her.
But even now the clearly sentient blob fought for every meter of progress towards the shocked Thomas, who hadn't moved or spoken in several minutes.
“Fuck!” Thomas suddenly jumped on his seat, trying to cuss quietly. His cigarette had burned down to his fingers while he was distracted. Tossing the burnt filter to the ground he pressed his tongue to the fresh ash covered burns on his fingers, wincing as the cold air and his own freezing fingers chilled his sensitive tongue.
He spit out the taste of cigarette ashes and prepared to try talking to the figure one more time before he just left all of this madness and walked out of the alley. Nervous to break her concentration, and also trying to avoid looking at all the exposed skin she was showing after her amateur wrestling match, Thomas organized his thoughts.
Then released them like a nervous bubbling flood all at once. “Are you ok? Is that thing hurting you? If you're a spirit, where's your Blessed? I don't have any spiritual affinity at all, so I don't think that thing can bond with me if that's what's going on right now-” Thomas hurriedly explained in a stream that only stopped when her glare darted over to his face. More intense than ever before, as if for the first time she was realizing a vital fact about Thomas. Her gaze seemed to burn into his soul unwaveringly with an earnest intensity that he couldn't bring himself to break.
“What are your exact test results?” she spoke harshly, carefully annunciating each word. Reflexively, he immediately and mechanically reproduced the last sentence he had ever spoken to his dad before he was kicked out onto the streets to fend for himself. “The screen always says 0, No energy detected”
Her expression changed in a way Thomas couldn't understand. Something obviously falling into place in her mind that he simply wasn't able to see from his shoes. She grit her teeth harder and seemed to try even harder to hold the liquid in place before rotating in the air to look him in his eyes.
Behind her back a strand of the liquid perked up, noticing a hollow metal pipe on the ground and began inching towards it.
“Listen to me” She stated professionally. “I’m going to disappear soon, and a new spirit is going to appear.”
“Where are you-” Thomas started.
She immediately yelled over him “I said listen!”
The strand of liquid jutted forward as she yelled, arriving at the pipe and starting to wrap around it, bubbling as if chuckling at its own mischievous actions.
“Fuck. Hes dead Fuck” the burst of emotion from her yelling seeming to choke her up. She closed her eyes for a second before continuing. “You're the missing Miles kid right? Don't answer that.” She finished before he could say anything.
“The whole family might be corrupt. They're probably the ones who moved me to your dad in the first place. You're going to have to avoid all of them, take the new spirit and go to a cathedral on another continent, you hear me? You won't be safe anywhere near your family or this Apocalypse.” She was clearly losing control over all the golden liquid at this point, her voice rising noticeably in volume with every word she spoke.
“They killed him. Thomas.” She yelled, her words cutting to the soul of Thomas straight through the fog of his confusion. He looked up into her eyes for what felt like the first time and saw tears falling from her eyes as she screamed. “They just killed the other servant! They killed your dad! Don't trust any of them, do you understa- ah!” *Clang*
She was cut off with a hollow clang as the blob smacked the back of the Angels head with a large metal pipe it had evidently managed to pick up. Thomas just stared. Completely stunned trying to process everything she had just said to him. He glanced at the blob which was rubbing its two hand seeming masses together as it silently rippled with what could only be maniacal evil laughter.
Thomas' face must have given away his thoughts because the blob immediately spun to look behind it when he saw Thomas’s expression. Indeed, Thomas had seen the silhouette of the Angel as she was sitting up from the ground behind the blob.
“You.” She growled.
The blob immediately pounced for Thomas's chest, disappearing through his sweater as she flew through the air centimeters behind the glowing liquid, letting out a wordless scream of rage.
Just before she crashed into him her body flared up shining with blindingly bright light directly into his eyes for the third time since they met about 6 minutes ago.
“Fuck!” Thomas screamed. Rubbing his eyes yet again. A serious headache threatening to form behind his eyes.
Blinking spots out of his eyes. Yet again. Thomas looked down into his lap, still shell shocked from the events of the last several minutes. There he found a now decidedly 21-year-old blonde girl blinking up at him with a look of disdain. Her much smaller wing extended out to either side around him. The girl's arms were crossed, and she looked like she was pretending to be very upset with him but at the same time very excited.
“The last Miles I served summoned me into a pile of pillows and roses. He even had a choir singing my favorite song” she said glancing around the alley
“All I’m saying is this better be some kind of undercover spy scenario-Wow! Wow!” she exclaimed at the end as Thomas lifted her into the air with a dark look in his eyes.
He had finished processing the information nuke that was the previous angel's last words. The ancient gray apathy that had been his entire emotional spectrum for the past nine years had cracked. Something inside him felt like it was twisting. The whole world sliding around beneath his feet
A finger poked his forward and he suddenly found himself focused on the adorable green eyes of the new angel. “You can't just go picking me up like that! Apologize!!” The angel recrossed her arms. But she looked slightly nervous which knocked the anger out of his mind.
He definitely didn't want to be scaring his new, and likely innocent, spirit. Thomas leaned back laughing lightly and setting her back down in his lap “Sorry! Sorry! I got carried away” he said apologetically, “What’s your name?” he asked diplomatically, trying to distract her.
Her eyes lit up. Literally. Her pupils spun into glowing stars as she proudly held a thumb to her chest “My name is Haven Glorietta Therese, I'm a lower Virtue of Warfare. And you're the Miles servant that I’m going to stop the apocalypse with.” She announced as if seeking praise for having already stopped the apocalypse months ago.
Thomas felt like. If he could see himself. There would be smoke pouring out of his ears. His vision was swimming, there was just too much information to be processed right now. The Father he'd never even known was apparently dead. He actually could bond with a spirit. He now was apparently on a quest to stop the apocalypse. The apocalypse was actually still ongoing. The church was right about heaven and hell the whole time.
Everything was fighting for first place in his mind, and he had no idea what to do in the immediate future. What to do right now.
Haven's head poked up and she looked around “Oh good” she said brightly. “I can feel some strong members of your family approaching. We can get back to your family's cathedral and start training right away.” She announced, moving to slide off his lap as if she planned to simply walk out of the alley.
Straight towards the Miles family goons that were clearly here to resolve the new problem Thomas likely presented the family. If they had killed his father. And the spirit somehow came to him. Then he was now a loose end in all of this. A very disposable loose end for the mile's family.
Something else was trying to click in his mind though. Something about the word Cathedral being thrown around so much. Right. His grandpa had always referred to his child home as the Miles Cathedral, she wanted him to go home. Thomas absolutely could not return home yet.
At least that’s what Thomas thought as he proceeded to mechanically, and at least in intent, gently kidnap his new partner. Placing a hand over her mouth and pulling her back, quickly looking around the alley he realized the dumpster further in was his only real shot at avoiding his beloved family's grunts.
Seeing his line of sight and realizing his plan instantly. Haven began struggling in his grasp, twisting and pushing in the opposite direction of the massive trash container. But she was unable to cause damage to him. He was her Blessed as of a few moments ago and could no longer cause intentional damage to him and vice versa.
This allowed the slim jim like teenager to wrestle her gently into the dumpster. She elbowed him a few times and mumbled but seemed to understand the idea behind his caution. Hopping in on her own. After she stood there for a minute hyping herself up.
Not even a minute after they finished burying themselves under wet cardboard. Thomas had just finished shuffling into a hidden position with Haven subdued in front of him. When he heard tires squeal to a stop just in front of the alley, he’d spent nearly his whole day in at this point. I got too comfy, he berated himself, annoyed with how easily they were able to find his exact location. Should have never stopped changing where I worked every day.
Now however, was not the time to be self-punishing, as he could already hear the stiff soles of the Miles Volunteer Militia crunching through the snow as they marched up the alley towards his hiding place.
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At least this confirms they’re super evil Thomas chuckled to himself internally. Only real evil corporations actually have famous all black vans full of goons on standby he grouched. “Thomas!” A female militia called out. “Were with your dad, something went wrong with his spirit bond, we just want to make sure you're ok.” she finished in a calming gentle tone. Haven motioned her hands out as if to say “See, they're here to help” and started sitting up, but Thomas slightly pulled back, pressing his nose to the back of her neck so she could feel him shake his head no.
He practically felt Haven roll her eyes even without seeing her face. Ugh. He groaned to himself internally. Her doe eyed innocence might be a real problem very soon. Thomas simply pushed the annoyance down and kept listening.
A wooden creak indicated they were searching his makeshift card table/seat. No footsteps were approaching him. He slowly moved his hand over his smartwatch's screen. Refusing to relax despite the lack of immediate danger.
He waited, breathing the smallest of slow deep breaths he could manage. Straining his ears in the damp, smelly, dark of the dumpster.
“Thomas, if you’re here, we're trying to help you, your dad might not have much time left, please let us take you to him.” The lady's voice pierced through the darkness, not near the dumpster, but far closer than he had expected. Her steps aren't making any sound he realized. She was still a good distance down the alley, but he no longer trusted his ability to pinpoint her location as she moved closer to his hiding spot.
“Fuck.” Cussing to himself quietly he lifted his watch up to eye level and pressed the same app he pressed every night to enter the tower. A friendly looking cartoon cat smiling up at him from a small green box. Wearing the same style of gray uniform as the Towers administrator. Complete with the small black skull patch over the right breast pocket.
He tapped on his smartwatches screen.
He heard someone yell as his body began glowing bright blue from the energy of the transfer. A warm sensation flowed into into chest as Haven disappeared from his arms. He could have waited till he was sure the guard was on to him. But it didn't matter now. Twelve hours from now. He was going to reappear right in that alley no matter what he did.
????
Seconds after Thomas vanished from the alley
As the light vanished, a short female with long blonde hair, and sharp blue eyes. Threw open the dumpster lid. Her Miles family volunteer militia uniform, somehow, spotless despite the oppressive snowfall all around her. She slowly touched a single gloved finger to the residue of golden liquid left behind. Raised it to her eyes, each one showing little dark suns, silhouetted over her bright blue irises. She examined the golden liquid for a second, her face showing no emotion.
Her spirit was manifested down by her left foot. A small otter holding a large white sea shee, its little dark eyes covered by a black pair of sunglasses. The otter scampered around to her right side just before the girl lifted her right foot just off the ground. Then, she roundhouse kicked the dumpster with seemingly very little effort.
The entire right wall of the dumpster folded inward. The metal container was launched to the right. The massive object immediately lifted off the ground from the force of her kick, rolling to the left through the air. Effortlessly shattering the single layer of brick wall. Then crashing into the floor beyond it. Finally, squealing across the dusty tile floor to a dead stop. Halfway through the lobby of the abandoned clothing factory she had kicked the dumpster into.
She stood there fuming for another few seconds. Then turned screaming at her crew for everyone to start setting up a perimeter.
Thomas
Thomas appeared floating in the air over millions of white cubes. Thousands floating around him in the air. Extending out in every possible direction out beyond the range of his vision. Each, with various numbers and letters covering the sides, each sequence unique to that box.
Once he chose to enter one, they would all appear together. Manifesting around him into a fully realized, continent sized city. With individual property owners' cubes all coming together to appear like one huge sprawling metropolis.
Lifting his watch, still running the towers app. He spoke next to it, “Second Chance Clinic Please.” A small tone beeped back before the familiar voice of the tower's administrator chimed back. His tone unnaturally cheerily “State your name and the establishment's visitor password please.”
“Thomas H. Miles, Password: EclecticOranges.” Thomas replied, rolling his eyes at his boss's ridiculous password. “Have a nice time!” The overly happy voice chirped back as reality blurred around him. Blinking rapidly, he found himself standing in front of the drab gray walls of the small “Second Chance Clinic”.
The cheap property his current boss owned and refused to upgrade no matter how much Thomas bugged her about it.
Now wasn't the time for whining though, Thomas had some huge problems to deal with and a ticking clock counting down to a grim final hour.
By entering the tower Thomas had just started his daily 12 hour “Night Shift", which he usually worked from 6:00 pm to 6:00 am every day. The only tower hours he could get approved as an unbonded. While in the tower he could travel to any public cube currently open, which would be none before midnight which was what the Blessed used as their Nighttime signifier, With the half of the Blessed who didn’t work from midnight to six am.
All working/shopping/sleeping/resting etc. Then switching halfway through the “night.” The Towers public spaces were run mostly the unbonded and crafting type Blessed. With each store's hours depending on which fourth of the Blessed and Unbonded were resting during that fourth of the night. The with Noon the next day acting as the ‘Day” signifier. The fourth who just rested then left the tower to fight on the North, East, and South Coasts. Before taking their break outside the tower at six pm. Resting until they entered the tower to start their night at midnight.
Each half of the Blessed and Unbonded Day/Night cycle was split in two halves. Six hours of rest and Six hours of work. This schedule had become the societal norm as all human bodies were advanced by Lei entering the world at whatever point it did during the apocalypse. “Evolving” all humans to the point that sleep was no longer necessary for actual rest.
The Tower further complicated social time structure thanks to one of the side effects of entering it regularly. Entering the tower resets the body to its peak state. Health, energy, mental energy, hunger. All were restored to the maximum state upon entering the tower, exiting the tower had the same effect.
It is Unknown to the Alkian people how similar the other continents' towers' various quirks and abilities are to the Tower of Excess. As inter-continent communication is still significantly complicated to this day by the oceans teeming with monstrous life forms. The U.A.N predicted only a third of messages sent over the ocean in this modern age actually reach another continent at all, much less the one you were trying to reach.
In truth the only clock the Tower operated off of was summoning monsters from the depths of the ocean at noon every day, exactly 12:00 o’clock. And kicking people out after 12 hours within a 24-hour period of them entering the tower. Everything else was just the society that had developed around these two times becoming so significant.
Right now, what matters is Thomas entered the tower at 2:30 pm. His boss Lucy had likely left her clinic at Noon to operate as a combat medic at one of the coasts which was currently being assaulted. She would then rest either by sleeping or simply relaxing and enjoying some food until midnight, where she would once again be allowed to enter the tower. At which time Thomas would have two and half hours to explain the situation to her and form a plan.
Thomas had been resting throughout his day so he would be fine to run around and work right now if he wanted to, especially since his stamina had been restored by entering the tower just now, but his body was used to resting after 6 hours of work, as was everyone's. So, if he panicked right now and tried to run around finding help. Panicked from now until midnight. He’d be exhausted when he was kicked out to face his family's goons.
Meaning the smart play was to sit down and slowly interrogate/familiarize himself with his new spirit to avoid burning through his energy. This strategy was viable thanks to the fact that he knew Lucy would eventually arrive here. Meaning the only thing he could do to actually improve his current situation beyond just waiting. Was calm down and learn about his new ally Haven.
All these thoughts and more flickered through Thomas's head as he approached the doors to the clinic and flashed his I.D. at the door. Breathing in the familiar smell he allowed himself a moment of relaxation in this comforting space.
Lucy would likely be able to help but putting all his faith in her would be irresponsible. He needed to maximize his chances of survival. Thinking about Lucy slightly annoyed him as remembered his boss's awful business skills.
Lucy, unfortunately, seemed immune to the allures of smart business Thomas admitted to himself. She insisted her one employee (Thomas) was more than enough. And often contemplated closing her clinic to open an all-in-one restaurant/hot spring/fashion brand loudly around the empty clinic.
Even though it was only empty because she refused to advertise her amazing healing skills. Insisting it would ruin their “Mystique and also street cred” to put up flyers with their actual appeal of a professionally trained healing mage. If I had any spiritual energy at all I would sacrifice it for mana just to show her how to run a clinic Thomas thought. His eyebrow twitching as he remembered her terrible business models.
Almost every idea she had was focused entirely towards how fun the medical research would be for her. She paid close to zero attention to the actual impact her escapades had on her business. To the point that Thomas was sure he’d lost years stressing over all the potential money she lost for her.
The less said about “Free Limb Attachment Friday '' the better. The problem wasn't just her incredible skills and medical miracles though. Famous surgeries like the one that turned Mikey Huge Hands into Mikey the Hand also probably contributed to his boss's inability to find more consistent employees and customers.
Thomas let out a sigh and found a seat. He was too worked up right now to interrogate Haven and too stressed to think of a good plan. He needed to get his thoughts in order, meditate a bit, then tackle things objectively.
Nodding to himself he closed his eyes. There was something… not wrong. But different about him. A cold energy flowing through him. He rubbed his wrists which were aching for some reason. The familiar scent and taste of lavender and lemon mixed with tea flooded his senses.
A man’s voice was describing history in excruciatingly boring to Thomas detail, but it was strangely relaxing. He was trying to tell him something specific though. He just couldn't place it.
His mind was drifting off towards some of his knowledge about the U.A.N.’s sparkling History. He had, after all, been forced through about a million boring history courses in his youth he supposed, so it's not super weird, I guess.
The familiar voice floated through his mind as he found a seat to ride out the daydream. The scent of lavender was already flooding his nose.
It wasn't until the year 2040, when the U.A.N. formed, when the ruins of America, now known as the Alkian continent after the Tower of Excess revealed that was the name of the continent it was magically teleporting to them too every day. The name stuck to bars and rumors throughout the cities on Land till the government just accepted it around 2052. Officially renaming themselves the United Alkian Nations.
The U.A.N. managed to stabilize the fractured states of America that had failed in working together as the United Governments in 2034. The less said about the pure chaos and loss of life up until the first recognized body formed in 2034, the better. (For example, no one acknowledged Dave's Republic of Texas and the World no matter how powerful it was during the first few decades of the apocalypse). The United government only managed to pass 3 laws before the people tore them apart nearly by force in 2049 and enabled the then named United American Nations to form.
The U.A.N. claimed Monarchy-like power for a council of world leaders only so long as every human life on earth was being threatened by the Towers. Thanks to this, a slight amount of normalcy returned to the societies of earth after nearly fifty years of an effectual dark age.
In which the American people were unable to work together despite an endless army of oceanic monsters threatening every coast except the West, which faced the Tower. Something that seemed consistent, all seven of the reformed continents of the world had their tower off to the west coast. Nearly everything else about the other continents was still unconfirmed to the citizens of the U.A.N. unfortunately.
Establishing itself as a successful ruling body. The U.A.N took advantage of the west coast's relative safety. Which was likely part of why Caldin, just slightly north of Saint Narie on the map along the west Coast of the Alkian Continent. Was the current home of the U.A.N. capital, even though it was established originally on the Alkian mountain range as a central power of the nation's Thomas remarked to himself.
Regardless it was the formation of the U.A.N. and their strict adherence to the United Governments laws even as they passed accords to move civilians to safer areas and funded massive defense movements. Both of which were decidedly against the previous United Governments' more political interests.
Though if they had decided to use the extent of their “Crisis Authority” to outright ignore the laws passed by the U.G. They likely would have found an army of civilians removing them not even a year after that same army gave them their power. Which compelled them to put a token effort towards continuing the U.G.’s planned attempts at crisis response.
Of course, with the limited contact between the Seven continents of humanity. The council's promise to relinquish their “Crisis Authority” was now foggy in scope as every other nation could have simply resolved their individual Apocalypse by now. Even the U.A.N. itself was unsure of its situation.
The Tower of Excess itself was studied religiously. A mountain of human artifacts piled in the ocean. With random clocks, T.V. 's, and alarms going off seemingly in correlation with the specific Apocalypse Machines of the towers' manifestations. The military force of West Point Alexander actively worked on the tower's physical form trying to map out the numerous symbolic timers to the known models. Such as Apocalypse Machine Model 001, The Kraken. Which was now known to manifest once a year in accordance with the tide lowering to reveal an old school alarm clock playing a cheery tone.
The various gangs of Saint Narie presently use protecting their territory as an excuse to fend off manifestations. Such as the towers' machines, the occasional Ocean beast that drifted around the coast, and government Apocalypse Killer units malfunctioning to attack said gangs or particularly strong civilians.
Beyond that, the tower still broadcasted constant news on its app about the coming end of the world. The need for humans to repent. The administrator personally assuring them every day that the apocalypse was ongoing and proceeding according to plan. Even as society stabilized less than a mile from the Tower itself. Life seems fine for the average citizen.
Fine for the wealthy in the west at least Thomas thought bitterly, contradicting the man's voice in his mind before going back to letting the lesson play out.
The losses in the coastal cities were extensive after the Blessed ran out of power. Half of the continents blessed worked from noon to 6 pm, supplemented with the citizen volunteer and reserve armies. Both of which stayed to their retreat when they knew blessed took over for them from 6 pm to midnight. Meaning the same unbonded held the line for the next 6 hours till the daily waves retreated back to the ocean.
The government spared no expense giving those unbonded the best equipment, training, and wages possible of course. But anyone born near a coast that wasn't the west, knew exactly what they would do as a career. Knew exactly where they'd fight. Knew exactly where they would die. And knew exactly where their children, and their children would fight and die.
Thomas had particularly hated learning about that system as a kid. His dad's soothing voice calmly listing death statistics and resigned shrugs anytime Thomas asked how he could help were still branded in his brain to this day. He used to dream about getting enough power to save all of them. To be a-
A hot spike of pain shot through his head, a headache forming as he stumbled over some unknown trauma. Exasperated, he grabbed some aspirin from the Second Chance Clinics medicine cabinet and swallowed them dry.
I should make a shirt Thomas thought with a macabre chuckle. “My deep familial trauma makes my migraines far more powerful than you can ever imagine” or something like that. Kind of a fucked-up joke he thought to himself.
He sighed, but the monologue in his head didn't stop as he nursed his aching head.
The Tower of Excess actually featured a memorial, about halfway through the hike up the massive pile of societal remains that made up the Tower. Though it did not mention the name of a single soldier or volunteer that died knee deep in salty water every day. Not enough stone, Thomas thought darkly.
Some took that as proof that the tower wasn't responsible for the monstrous ocean hordes. Fucking idiots Thomas thought rolling his eyes Looking for another apocalyptic explanation while one broadcasted its intent to destroy us all daily was just stupid. Hell, even if the ocean beasts were unrelated to the Tower, they should really focus on one damn apocalypse at a time He joked sarcastically to himself.
No, the memorial only showed the names of the trial participants. Self-labeled climbers that passed away attempting the trials offered by Tower to humans brave enough to enter the Towers strange pocket space continent through the App it somehow manifested on all communication's capable technology. Idiots who thought fighting against hordes of monsters six hours a day wasn't enough and tried to battle more beasts for whatever rewards the tower offered climbers Thomas commented to himself. He was decidedly against the idea of competing against the towers Trials. But judging from the current trajectory of his life. He would likely be training in the Tower soon enough.
The voice finally faded away. Thomas immediately got the feeling that he wasn't exactly sure what he had just been thinking. As if he had just woken from a dream. Done with that episode he rubbed his wrists which were aching for some reason.
Standing up from his chair, Thomas walked over and turned the lights off. They were hurting his eyes now thanks to the new headache. In the dim waiting room he resolved to get the conversation over with. A motivation to actually get something done trickled into him from some mysterious reservoir of will power he didn't know he possessed.
He would have considered himself a laid back or even lazy person just yesterday. Or maybe resigned. What else could he be? After a decade of being beaten, walked over, starving on crowded streets, being ignored, and tortured. All by a society that revered the very family that he now suspected had stolen his individual powers from him. Apparently for his “More valuable” fathers' sake. There was a strange heat in his chest now.
A desire he had not felt since he was a young kid. Fresh on the streets. A fire that too many cold nights had slowly choked out. Now burned fresh and hot inside him. He knew one thing for sure. When he was done untangling the schemes of his family. He was going to use every bit of power and knowledge he had to make them regret everything.
He quickly walked over to a storage closet and pulled some old rope out of a drawer at the back of the closet. He pulled two chairs into the middle of the lobby, glanced over to make sure no one could see them from this angle just in case a random civilian wandered by on the street.
Looking down at his chest the golden circle left over his heart by the blob had resolved itself into an adorable chibi tattoo of Haven standing proudly with her wings spread behind her and her hands on her hips. Show time he thought to himself, half expecting the next part to simply not work. For the whole day to have been an insane bout of psychosis and hallucinations.
He tried to summon Haven. *2
She popped into existence a few inches in front of him looking excited.
“Oh, we're in the tower already!” she said, radiating an almost calming aura of positivity.
‘No, I’m just-” Thomas started, but she steamrolled right over his words.
“This is great! I didn't think you’d be brave enough to start climbing until we gave you some basic training and equipment. Your reckless disregard for your own safety and well-being will serve us well in stopping the apocalypse” she spoke brightly, bubbling at the prospect of Thomass risking his life for the sake of humanity.
Sighing and rubbing his eyes Thomas looked up and said “Look, I doubt I could last a minute in whatever the first trial is. Just please help me out here. I have some questions.”
“Of course, my human companion!” she replied, still sounding positively pleased with everything happening.
“I have some rope, I heard from Lucy that spirits sometimes have trouble acting against their nature even when they want t-” Thomas began, but it wasn't long before Haven jumped back in.
“Who is this, Lucy? Is she an ally? Is she strong? Do you think she can help us save humanity?” Haven asked rapid fire, practically bouncing in her seat with excitement.
“Focus please.” Thomas sighed exasperated with her antics. “Do you still want to go to the Miles cathedral? I can tie you down to help.” He finished holding the rope up for her to examine.
“Oooh I have never been tied up before.” Haven hummed. “Yes, I do find myself quite compelled to fly to the nearest Cathedral. A leash or length of chain may be a better long-term solution.” She helpfully commented holding her hands out to him, wrists held together, blinking at him innocently.
“How old are you again?” Thomas asked warily while coiling the rope around her wrists.
“As an agent of Corina, the Human God, I am quite literally older than time and space itself.” she happily provided. “Right now, my body is manifesting at…Oh wow only twenty-two years old to match yours, That's quite a young for an angel contract. Congratulations on your incredible supernatural talent friend. I now see why you were chosen for me to stop the apocalypse with.” She finished.
Thomas ignored the implication that she didn't have faith in him before now, jumping straight to the heart of the issue instead.
“See that's the problem, I don’t have any spiritual affinity” Thomas spoke, trying to push down the panic that speaking openly about this topic brought him after so long.
Haven laughed in his face. Loudly.
“HAHAHAHAHA. Very funny sir. I think we will work very well together. I too love a good joke now and then” She spoke through tears, twisting from the force of her laughter in the chair.
Thomas just stared at her, mouth slightly hanging open.
Haven, laughter fading off to a low chuckle, slowly as she realized he was serious.
“Thomas” Haven began. “It takes a sanctified Servant family hundreds of years to infuse their paladins and priests with the level of Holy Affinity that housing an angel in your physical form requires. Even just housing me for the few minutes you did would have caused a person with anything less than absurd levels of Lei compared to your average human or even warrior to simply, *POP*.” She popped her lips for dramatic effect while Thomas stared at her. Trying to absorb what she was saying.
“Right into ashes.” She joked with a smile
Thomas kept staring.
“Well maybe salt if it was a virtue of judgment, they like to be a little dramatic with their retribution.” she reassured him cheerily.
Noticing he wasn’t speaking she continued, “Here I’ll show you, drop some blood on my tongue please.” she stuck her tongue out and waited patiently.
Someone handed him an overly fancy silver knife on a white cotton pillow.
No. He went and found a scalpel in the back.
Thomas’s headache was getting worse.
He tried to concentrate. He felt leery of the prospect that he just suddenly had powers after all these years. Yet also buzzing with a quiet hope that refused to be beaten down. What if?
The red drops of blood sparkled as they hit Haven's tongue.
Something felt wrong about that. Like he needed to turn around and look behind him. Right then. But when he turned his head there was only the empty room behind him.
Haven swallowed and smiled up at him. “Exactly as I thought, you have an insanely high amount of Lei in your body.” She cheerily informed him “In fact, these numbers rival the archived report of Anderson H. Miles himself at your age. You should be very proud to have these results at only twenty-two.” she finished in a bubbly tone as if the world wasn't shaking around them
Something was wrong with the oxygen. Couldn't she feel that? It was so hard to breathe.
“No, No you're wrong.” He choked out “Show me the numbers, use the- use a screen or something.”
Haven tilted her head slightly. “Thomas” she said using his name for the first time, her cheery tone never losing an ounce of positivity. “There is no screen, no Holy affinity test uses a screen.” she explained gently
Thomas felt small. Everything was too big. He needed to lay down right now, but the ground was so far away.
“I can write them down for you if you give me a pen.” she offered.
Thomas pulled on his collar with both hands stumbling backwards a step
His traitorous mind kept screaming at him even as he refused to budge an inch towards believing this cruel joke. He had no powers, he was the weakest kind of unbonded, no spirit even manifested at his birth.
He was incomplete, broken.
Flashes of his grandpa's smile started appearing in his mind. A book slamming against a desk. Someone angry and yelling while loud rusty squeaking continued to squeal over and over and over. Something cold was pressed against the side of his face. A sharp pain shot through his head.
And then Thomas. All at once. Felt himself lying in a bed. Suddenly feeling incredibly nervous.