The conference hall reeked of disinfectant and bureaucracy.
It wasn't the kind of place where history began—just an old school gym converted for emergency use. Fluorescent lights flickered above metal chairs, the buzz loud enough to distract from the nervous shuffling of feet. Theron Ashford sat with his hoodie sleeves tugged halfway over his fingers, knees slightly apart, watching the projection screen like it might explode.
A government official in a black suit stood stiffly at the front, flipping through a tablet.
> "We've thoroughly scanned the structure," the man announced. "No heat signatures, no movement, and no biological markers have been detected inside. It's completely inert."
There was a pause. A few of the volunteers glanced at each other. Some seemed relieved. Others—like Theron—weren't sure what to feel.
> "The Tower's internal architecture is... anomalous," the official continued. "But safe. Your job is simple. Gather data. Photograph, copy, and if possible, translate the inscriptions found inside."
He tapped his tablet. A line of text appeared behind him, projected in gold on the cracked gym wall:
> "Chosen by the gods that watch over thee."
The air seemed to change.
It wasn't cold, exactly—but the kind of chill that sunk beneath your skin when something brushed too close to your life. Theron squinted at the words, uneasy.
The official cleared his throat. "We believe this Tower is some kind of book. A prophetic one. The goal is to read it."
The meeting ended in an odd hush. No claps. No questions.
---
The volunteers boarded military vans bound for the site. Theron found himself seated beside a girl with pale skin and silver hair, her arms crossed, gaze fixed outside.
She didn't look like she belonged in this world. She smelled faintly of clean steel and something like ash. Her presence was strangely heavy, like a silence with a shape. But her name tag said simply: Arya Selene.
He tried not to stare.
"You volunteer too?" he asked.
She turned to him, slowly. "Didn't look like I had much of a choice."
Her voice was quiet, not shy. Controlled.
He laughed once. "Yeah. Same."
It wasn't much. But it was something.
---
The Tower was worse up close.
Built of black stone that shimmered faintly under sunlight, it loomed like a monolith older than memory. No doors. Just a jagged wound where the wall had split open—large enough for people to step through one by one. The temperature dropped the closer they got. It smelled like rain on burnt paper.
Inside, it was hollow and massive.
No lights. No echoes. Just a cold vastness lined with walls covered in writing that pulsed faintly, like veins lit beneath the skin of a giant.
Theron's breath fogged.
Arya stood beside him, tense. Her eyes scanned the walls like she was seeing ghosts.
They moved slowly, reading inscriptions in broken patches. One was clearer than the rest. Burned into the wall in long, jagged script:
> "The end of the day is near. Whosoever reads this is burdened with the role of salvation."
Arya froze.
Her fingers curled slightly at her side. Her lips pressed together. Her eyes flicked over the sentence again, then again.
She didn't move.
Theron noticed. "Hey. You good?"
She didn't respond right away.
"Arya?"
"…Yeah," she said too quickly. "Just cold."
He stepped closer, hesitating a moment before reaching out and placing a hand gently on her shoulder. Her body tensed under his touch. But she didn't move away.
"You sure?" he asked softly.
She nodded—small, rigid.
The moment lingered a little too long.
She turned her face slightly away, but her ears were red.
---
They logged every inscription. Captured photos. Marked coordinates. And when the sun started dipping low behind the Tower's rim, the group left as a unit—silent, shaken but intact.
Outside, the air smelled like scorched metal and pine. Theron took a breath, hands in his pockets, stealing one last glance back.
"Arya," he said.
She turned.
"Wanna grab dinner?"
She blinked. "Huh?"
"You know… food. Together. After not dying in a haunted fucking prophecy tomb."
She stared for a moment longer than necessary. Then, for the first time, smiled.
"…Alright. I'd like that."
---
That night, when the sky bruised black and the Tower was no longer visible, a single window flickered open in Arya's vision.
Its glow was pale red.
> [CURRENT QUEST: TRANSFER MEMORIES TO THERON ASHFORD]
[CONDITION FOR COMPLETION: DEATH]
[PENALTY FOR FAILURE: DESTRUCTION OF THE WORLD]
She closed her eyes.
And the cold feeling returned.