Chapter Text
To say that the body of the administrator lay at his feet, wouldn’t be quite right. Instead it coiled around and around Jue Viole Grace like walls of a well. It is cold and dead though, and that’s all that mattered.
Viole begins to climb, digging his fingers into the administrator’s brittle scales and slowly crawling up. It reminds him of a story he’d tell others about his childhood, piling stones on stones in hopes to reach the surface. He knows this is different, no starry eyed girl with golden hair at the top, no silver eels, no princesses, no rankers, no king, no tower. This was different, so why did such a familiar bitterness coat his tongue to remind him he was so utterly alone? Viole bit his lip and continued climbing.
Bleeding from scraped knees and elbows, Viole reached the top and faced Headon.
“Move.” And Headon did, gracefully stepping to the side to reveal a door. Viole rose his hand to push it open, hesitating once his palm pressed on its cool surface.
“What’s behind it?” He asks. Headon does not answer, staring blankly back at him. The last floor, the last battle, and here Viole hesitates. There is nothing left behind him, and this door is his only option.
The door swings open, and Jue Viole Grace enters. It is blank and empty, and his chest shudders from an echo between his ribs. There is nothing but a faint figure in the distance, only a slight smudge so very far away.
“You’ve made it.” A voice trills in his ear. “Everything you could ever want is here at the top. You are now a god.”
“But there’s nothing here.”
The figure inches very slightly forward.
“What do you want to be here?” Viole opens his mouth to answer but closes it. Opens it, closes it. Like a fish.
“Let me repeat myself,” the voice now reverberated. “You’ve made it to the top, and now you can ask for anything. Anything you desire.” The figure continues to drift forward. “You’ve climbed for so long Bam. What do you want?”
Viole flinches at the name. He’s here at the top, but each floor still pressed down on his shoulders from above. Bam, no, Viole almost brings himself to ask if he could see the stars. But that was someone else’s dream, something he promised to a long forgotten someone. He had his own reason, changed once or twice, sure, but he still kept some sort of hope tucked under his heart, so what was it? What did he want?
I want to be head of the Khun family. Another wish that wasn’t his. I want to get stronger by fighting people with strong weapons. And another. I want to be king. No, no.
And so Viole grips his arms closer to his chest, the whispers of dreams that weren’t his to ask swirled and swirled, and the boy still trapped in the cave spoke.
I don’t want to be alone.
Jue Viole Grace laughs. The one thing the tower gave him was what he already wanted. And like a fool,
He lost it.
By god, he doesn’t even remember their names. Their names. He made himself forget them in order to climb. He was at the top of the world and he had never felt lower. The irregular let himself laugh and laugh and laugh. What did he want?
“I don’t know,”
The figure moves so slightly closer, and Viole continues to speak .
“I-. My name isn’t even Viole. Viole was someone else’s wish.” He exhales and says the only truths he had left. “My name is Bam, the Twenty-fifth Bam, named after my birthday. I’ve reached the top of the tower, and I don’t know what I want.”
The figure is only a couple of feet away now, and yet, Bam couldn’t bring his eyes to focus.
“Hm. So what are you going to do now?” Bam’s mind stops racing, and the two stand face to face, in silence. The answer is a different type of “I don’t know”.
“Is there anything for me outside the tower?” He mutters.
The figure placed two blurry hands on Bam’s shoulders.
“For you,” there is a pause. “There is nothing. Nothing at all. Nothing in this tower either.”
“Then what’s left for me?”
The figure is practically forehead to forehead with Bam, yet no features are discernible.
“You are probably sick of hearing this, but why don’t we make a deal?” The floor became a screen, and a woman with chestnut brown hair was running below, clutching a bundle of blankets to her chest. A small blue hand peaked out of the fabric. Is that-?
“Arlene?” Bam blurts. The woman below cannot answer. “This is-“
“She is praying for her son to come back.” The figure’s breath on his cheek. “It’s stone dead. It won’t come back, not really.”
“You want me to be reborn?” Go through hell, again. Become a god again.
“Exactly. I’ll even let you skip through the early parts.” The figure began to fade. “I’ll let you think about it.”
Arlene left the baby on the doorstep of the tower and prayed. The day turned to night, and Bam let all the wishes that weren’t his to want, rattle in his skull. He could go back, wrangle up any survivors and become a king. He could destroy the tower from the inside out, he could-
Day turned to night and back again and again. Bam called again for the figure on the twenty-fifty day.
“What do you gain from this?” Bam asked, “How do I know this isn’t a trick?”
The figure lowered itself and its voice. “Dear boy, do you really think I would harm a branch of my own existence?”
“Will I keep my memories?”
“Of course.”
“What if there’s a hidden promise I’m making?”
“I guess you’ll have to trust me.”
“How do I-“ Bam swallows “ How do I know this won’t repeat itself?”
Silence.
“Then you’ll have to trust yourself.”
Night falls for the twenty fifth time, and for the first time since he was pushed out that bubble back on the test floor…
Bam descends.