July 30, 980 GD (Grand Design).
That date blinked softly on the surface of the holographic window in this luxurious suite.
I stared at the number for a long time. It was today's date. The start of a new cycle. But for me, it was just a number without context.
The question circled in my head like a broken tape.
Why am I here?
Why in the most luxurious room in Apex Tower?
If I'm someone important, where are my guards? Where are my servants?
But if I'm a prisoner, why isn't the door locked?
This room was sterile. No family photos. No letters. No traces of personality. Only a black uniform hanging in the closet and me, a stranger in my own body, "born" just this morning with trained killing instincts.
BZZZT.
My reverie shattered. The sound of a mechanical vibration came from my left wrist.
I raised my arm with a wary reflex. There, coiled around it, was a sleek black metal device—a Magitek Gauntlet or Smart-ID. Its dark screen suddenly lit up, projecting blue holographic text into the air.
One new message. No sender name. Just a static encryption code.
ACTIVEORDERACTIVEORDER
Come to the Academy. Watch and observe THEM FOUR.
Do not interact. Observation only.
The Weaver.
I stared at the message with a furrowed brow. My breath caught for a moment.
This wasn't just a notification. The sentence was constructed with a cold, imperative tone. No greeting, no pleasantries. It was the language of command. The language a general uses with his soldiers, or a master with his dog.
Strangely, I didn't feel angry.
On the contrary, a small part of my brain felt... relieved. Amidst this emptiness of memory, suddenly there was one certainty. An objective. A mission.
"Them four..." I whispered, testing the words on my tongue. "Who? Four people? Four monsters? Or four places?"
Whoever this 'Weaver' was, they knew I was here. They knew I could read this. And they considered me useful enough to do their dirty work.
"Alright, Weaver," I murmured to the blinking screen. "You give me an order, but you forget to give me the instruction manual."
With hesitant fingers, I tapped the "Search" icon on the gauntlet. I had no target names, so I had to search for context. The message told me to come to the "Academy."
I typed one keyword: "Academy".
The holographic screen flickered, processing local Zero Point City data. A digital map appeared, showing the city divided into three large sectors, with four red dots pulsing at strategic locations.
SEARCH RESULTS: HIGHER EDUCATION INSTITUTIONS (ZERO POINT)
THE IRON BASTION ACADEMY (Northern Sector - Affiliation: Valdor)
Specialization: Defense & Heavy Magitek.
THE GILDED SPIRE INSTITUTE (Eastern Sector - Affiliation: Aurum)
Specialization: Information & Economics.
THE SANCTUM OF GRACE (Southern Sector - Affiliation: Aethelgard)
Specialization: Biology & Theology.
THE ARBITER'S ENCLAVE (Neutral Zone - City Center)
Specialization: Law Enforcement & Counter-Magic.
I stared silently at the list. Four names. Four locations.
My deductive logic started working. "Come to the Academy. Watch Them Four."
Most likely, my targets weren't four random individuals, but these four entities. Or perhaps representatives from these four institutions.
My fingers scrolled down, searching for the city's public agenda for today.
"Colosseum," I hissed softly. "Everyone will gather in one place."
That was the only place where all four academies met under one roof. If I had to observe them, that was the spot.
But wait... why should I go there? What right do I have to enter that event?
I looked back at the physical ID card I found on the table earlier. I flipped it over. On the back, additional data was printed that I'd missed before because I was too focused on the VIP status on the front.
AFFILIATION: ZERO POINT ACADEMY
LEVEL: YEAR 2
My eyes widened slightly.
"I'm... a student?"
I let out a dry laugh. A laugh that didn't sound funny at all. I woke up in a luxurious penthouse, received a secret order from someone named 'Weaver', and it turns out I'm just a school student?
What kind of student lives in a place like this while others cram into dorms? Am I a golden child? Or a political prisoner given a gilded cage?
GRRRR...
A low growl broke my tactical analysis. Not an earthquake. Not a Mana explosion.
It was my stomach.
I looked down, holding my flat stomach. Biological reality hit me harder than the mystery of identity. I was hungry. Very hungry. The brain might forget, but metabolism doesn't. This body demanded fuel, and demanded it now.
I turned off the hologram on my arm. Mystery could wait ten minutes. Hunger could not.
I turned and explored the suite, looking for a food source. My feet led me to a double door on one side of the room. When I opened it, I found a private pantry more advanced than a chemistry lab.
A Mana induction stove, a crystal ice cooler, and racks of premium food ingredients preserved in stasis fields.
I opened the cooler and found a container with six large eggs. Their shells were thick, brown with faint blue speckles.
I lifted one. Heavy. This wasn't an ordinary chicken egg.
"Aethelgard Behemoth egg," I murmured.
A random piece of information popped into my head—maybe a remnant of past memory or just leftover general knowledge. These were eggs from the giant beasts that pulled caravans in the South.
My brain started calculating, converting the object in my hand into cold numbers.
One of these eggs was worth about 15 Lux on the open market.
15 Lux.
In the Valdor Empire, 15 Lux was equivalent to 7,500 Merit. That was the base salary of a lowly soldier for a month and a half, which they had to exchange for blood and lives on the front lines against monsters.
In the Aurum Republic, 15 Lux was equivalent to 1,500 Credit. Enough to pay for a week's worth of pure oxygen tube rental in a middle-class apartment, or buy one hour of "sweet dreams" in a VR pod to forget debt.
In Aethelgard itself, this egg was a sacred item only High Priests were allowed to eat. Commoners who picked one up would be whipped for "stealing God's share."
And here? In this room?
I turned on the induction stove. Sreeeet.
I cracked an egg worth a soldier's monthly salary onto the hot pan just for breakfast.
"Ironic," I hissed softly while sprinkling crystal salt. "I'm eating luxury that people down there can't even dream of, while I'm trapped in this foreign body myself."
The bright orange yolk sizzled in the pan. Its aroma was savory, rich, and expensive.
I flipped the egg with a precise wrist motion. Sunny side up.
I took a silver fork, sat at the marble dining table, and started eating. Each bite felt like swallowing guilt and pleasure at the same time. But I didn't stop. This body needed energy. If 'The Weaver' wanted me to work, they had to feed their machine.
After my plate was empty, I leaned back in the chair.
"I'm trapped," I murmured to the golden ceiling.
That was the only logical conclusion. Amnesia. This luxurious room. A mysterious commanding message. Four Academies.
This wasn't a series of coincidences. This was a carefully arranged scenario, and I was an actor forced onto the stage without a script. Someone was playing chess, and I was either a pawn... or perhaps bait.
I walked to the closet, grabbing the uniform robe hanging there. The material was heavy, black Mana-weave with silver accents on the edges. When I put it on, the robe fell perfectly on my body, as if sewn for my skin.
I left the suite, stepping towards the private lift with gold-plated doors.
TING.
The door opened smoothly. I pressed the lobby button. The machine hissed softly, then began to descend.
Floor by floor passed by.
Floor 50... VIP Suites.
Floor 30... Administration Offices.
Floor 10... Security.
When the lift doors opened in the main lobby of Apex Tower, I was greeted by marble floors reflecting my image and two three-meter-tall Golem guards bowing stiffly as I passed. I didn't acknowledge them. I just walked straight out, through the automatic glass doors that swished open.
Strong wind immediately slapped my face. The Downdraft.
I stood in the tower's courtyard, looking up.
The sky above was gray, covered by a swirling layer of smog. The golden Ambrosia pipes looked more terrifying from down here, like parasitic roots gripping the black tower.
I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with Zero Point air that smelled of ozone, gasoline, and a faint sea scent from the Aurum district.
"Insane," I muttered, shaking my head.
My memories were gone. My identity was in question. An unknown person gave me orders as if I were their pet dog. And I just ate a fried egg worth someone else's life.
Too many variables. Too many questions.
"Ah, screw it," I hissed softly, exhaling a long breath. "Don't give a damn."
What's the point of thinking until my brain explodes? It won't bring my memories back now. It won't change the fact that I'm here, standing under the shadow of this cursed tower.
If this world is indeed a stage play, I'll just follow its script. See where this crazy script takes me.
I put both hands in my robe pockets, then started walking leisurely through the morning crowd of Zero Point City.
The streets towards the Colosseum were lively. I enjoyed the view with a strange curiosity, as if I were a tourist seeing hell for the first time. My memory might be gone, but my knowledge of this world still clung to the depths of my mind.
To my left, a group of Iron Bastion students marched with firm steps. Their iron armor clanked in unison, full of scratches and soot.
Valdor... my thoughts whispered. A nation where humans are just iron ore waiting to be forged or discarded. If you're useless, you die. They are proud of the chains that bind them.
To my right, Gilded Spire students glided on magical hoverboards. Their robes shimmered with moving holographic ads, laughing while checking the stock market on their AR glasses.
Aurum... Another bitter memory surfaced. A place where souls have a price tag. They smile not because they're happy, but because a smile is part of the customer service contract.
And in the distance, Sanctum of Grace students walked in silent formation. Their white robes were not stained by a speck of dust, hands clasped to their chests.
Aethelgard... I felt nauseous looking at them. False purity. They are the most dangerous. Valdor kills you with bullets, Aurum with debt, but Aethelgard kills you with guilt.
Then there were those wearing gray robes with covered faces, walking alone by the roadside. Arbiter. The police dogs everyone hates.
Chaotic. Noisy. Colorful.
This city was a collision of three sick ideologies forced to share one bed under the shadow of the tower.
And at the end of the road, the massive structure of the Apex Colosseum loomed high, swallowing thousands of students into its stone belly.
I gave a thin smile. An ironic, resigned smile.
"Alright, 'Weaver'," I whispered to the dust-carrying wind. "Let's see what kind of show you've prepared for me."
I quickened my pace, merging with the human flow towards the arena.