ENTRY 5900131

Tower, Tower

~°°~

Luke was shaken awake.

"What?" he grumbled, voice still touched by sleep. He clutched his blanket tighter.

His blanket was rattled even more fiercely. He opened his eyes. Saya's face and eyes peeked back from the darkness. "What?" he repeated again more forcefully, annoyed, wiping his eyes as he sat up. "Wait, how are you here?"

"I tickled the door. The Seniors advised it, it's such a neat trick." Saya's face was bright enough to light the dim room. "Me and my dorm mates were woken up by the nurses," she excitedly whispered. "The Seniors' Trial is tonight and everyone's invited. Hurry, hurry!"

"Of all the goddamned times," Luke mumbled, as he clambered to his feet. "Wait, shouldn't we wake up my dorm mates?" He gestured at his snoring acquaintances.

"Well, you go wake them up. I don't know them," Saya said impatiently, tapping her foot.

Me neither, Luke thought of saying but held his tongue.

"It'll be fine," Saya continued. "They'll be wakened up by the nurses anyways. Plus, it's better if we get there first. We can have the best spot for watching. Come on." Without further ado, she grabbed his hand and dragged.

They go into the night.

Luke finally asked as he trailed behind, combing his hair with his hands, still groggy, "Where exactly is the Trial held?"

"They said its held on the Light Tower."

Luke blinked, taking a look at their surroundings. "This isn't the way to the Light Tower."

Saya looked at him incredulously. "Well, we aren't going there without snacks. What's a show without food?" And into the kitchen they went. "Don't pick up fruit pies though. They're very sour."

They pillaged the kitchen and by that, I mean that, Saya took slices of some potato pie and some chicken nuggets, and hid it under a cloth while Luke watched, exasperated.

"Don't drag me back to get food again because you can't control yourself," he murmured irritably as Saya began gobbling them down as they walked towards the Light Tower.

The High Street looked eerie at night, lonesome and empty, save for the statues on the side of the lane. Luke flickered his eyes statue to statue with trepidation as they made their way. Past squared stones stacked together was the immense Tower and a small wooden, creaky door that would reveal a spirally staircase, lit orange by torches.

"Watch your step," he reminded, as they navigated through the steep, narrow pathway.

"Got it, got it." Saya rolled her eyes, jumping her way through.

Luke was mid step when his body felt light. He yelped when his feet began to ascend, running into the wind. "Saya!" he cried out in a panic. Saya was up in the air as well, hair rising like a billowing curtain, her hands reaching for their floating snacks. "Stay close to the stairs and get ready to grab."

They twirled in the air but slowly and surely, their ascent came to a stop. What followed then, was the fall. Luke screamed, small clammy hands clawing on the stair's edge. On the corner of his eyes, he saw Saya clinging the stairs with one hand, while the other was reaching downwards, mournfully looking for the fallen food.

"Are you seriously gonna put the nuggets above your bones?" He shrieked, his throat hoarse. Saya said no response but remained miffed, pouting like a lost dog. He pulled himself up, knees against stone as he patted reddening hands and looked down warily. They floated farther than expected. If they fell, it wouldn't just be bones that would be gone.

Luke shuddered as he stood. "Don't they have safety regulations? What is wrong with these people?"

"The Trial is probably starting. Our snacks though.." Saya bemoaned, still looking down. "I got two nuggets left..."

"We can get snacks later. Let's just go before we float again and fall to our deaths," Luke said, grabbing Saya as they made a run for it, their silhouettes casting shadows over the spiraling staircase.

The door soon seen, as pliant and silent as any door would be. Luke didn't think of it as he turned the handle. There's a blinding blue light that made him screw his eyes shut. Dread trod then, a sense of impending doom despite the fact there was nothing yet. The first and the last thing he tasted was metal. It's warm, he thought, shuddering.

You didn't need to know his face. I'd never tell you the horrendous details. After all, this story was the burden that I bore.

It was not a painless death. Professor Noirin after all, twisted his organs.

~°°~

Sluggish as if slammed then curb-stomped by Satan incarnate himself. Drunk? His finger twitched against painfully tight ropes that burned lines in his skin. No. When his eyes fluttered, kaleidoscope in steroids filled his vision, blurry. Drugged. Despite being restricted, he felt movement, wheels against cobblestone.

The grasp of slumber clutched deeper and it was so easy to just close his eyes and dream. Instead, he heard a familiar voice, groggy but mad, cursing as if there was no tomorrow.

Something about 'fuck you's and how dare you and then—

Screams. The world ascended and Boreas felt more confounded to see a man—a nurse, Boreas recognized those dulled blue gray uniforms—flying out of the air. He blinked and saw the man's neck bloat like a tumor, until it exploded.

His eyes burned, heavy, begging for sleep even while his lips tasted salt and metal. Blood rushed to his head, bouncing and slamming against the cold, flat surface of the stretcher he was strapped on as everything fell.

Chaos ensued. Boreas saw hazy outlines of fists and blood, heard a shriek; "I thought her powers are just healing?" A blurred silhouette moving faster than eyes could see but it was too late, bones growing out of his legs. Blood splattered.

Warm fingers unfastened the ropes tied all over him.

Boreas craned his head and saw eyes glowing like lit emeralds.

Rycella moved to unbind the other behind him, the scarred boy still cursing.

Vague movement in the peripheral vision and before Boreas could warn, a barrel of a gun glinted. There was no bang nor blood; a simple red dart sticking to the side of Rycella's arm. She cursed, swerved her head to the man who shot. The bones in his head sprouted out like vines.

Boreas felt like puking. So, he did.

Rycella weakly grinned. "Fucking Thalamide."

"They got you? Well, fuck my life. Couldn't even dodge."

"Says the dude who can't even sit up." Rycella tossed away the dart, the punctured wound staying to bleed.

"Not my fault, I'm not experimented on yet." Krowan sat up, dishevelled and hazy, his voice slurred. "Is it weird that I'm kinda thankful you got experimented on?"

Rycella stared at him and didn't reply.

Krowan raised a finger. "Considering there's no response, I believe that I have offended you." He said with sincerity, "I apologize. And I...I-I can't fucking see." He laughed like some madman. "And my head. Those shit fucking, cowardly cunts," he spat. "And who the fuck keeps puking? Fuck you."

Boreas gurgled out a weak response, "Sorry."

Krowan blinked. "Oh shit, Boreas." His face brightened. "Boreas, you're here. Where are you?" His hands reached for the air. "Where are we?"

Boreas shakily grabbed his hands. "'M here. There are colors in the roof. I think the sun is here."

Krown 'ooh'ed.

"You two are too far gone." Rycella sighed, wiping blood out of her glasses. "We're near the gate. Farthest away from the Tower. Just the three of us." Her tone was bitter as she slumped down to the ground, hugging her knees. "She never trusted me. She just wants the bones. She was just gonna toss me in once its stable and I'm gonna wake up. Alone. I knew it." She laughed, burying herself to her arms. Boreas didn't give a shit.

In the distance, despite the kaleidoscope of colors, Boreas saw the Tower topple and fall, a wheel of light along with it. A familiar scream that shook the ground they were on. Boreas swore to never forget that voice.

"My name is Eris Heindell, ID 13.190," said the voice of the earth, the light of blues. "You probably forgot me. You probably don't care but please listen to me. The portal is not gonna work. It will explode. To anyone who cared, please come and stop it. Please kill me."

Boreas stood in an instant, wobbling as he took a step forward. "I don't understand. But. Eris.. I won't sit back and just watch." His words were slurred. "I promised."

"So did I." Green eyes narrowed into slits, tired and burning all the same. "We don't have our Peculiars."

Pale hands reached for the last thing of remembrance. He opened the chocolate. It bloomed, tinged in white. "I don't care. I got a plan. Something stupid." Boreas grinned. "I'll stop that portal and save Eris."

Krowan nodded. "Then, I'll die with you." His voice slurred, apologetic. "I can't see. I'm sorry if I'm useless."

"No, no, you're not," Boreas mumbled, shaking his head. "Let's fuck them up while we're half-asleep and while you're completely blind."

"Hell yeah!" Krowan clapped him in the back and the two wobbled their way to the Tower, against eyes of the passing statues of the street. Rycella glanced at the gun grasped by a cold hand, drenched in blood. She laughed in exhaustion, grabbed and stood.

~°°~

Lines of blood strewn in the ground, scattered but connected to one end. The ardent sting of copper, flesh and sulfur remained stagnant, as suffocating as an insistent dagger grazing a throat. The portal grew and grew, accepting the sacrifices; a tumor, a sickness, a pathway.

Eugene bathed in blood, glasses glinting red.

The bricks rose and fell, brittle than the last. The portal too heavy for the Tower to bear. The ground toppled and swerved, everything plummeted. Fasbur inflated like a ball, taking the brunt of the fall.

Eugene tumbled, inhaling dust and blood as the world shifted in its axis. When he opened his eyes, he was on the ground, teeth against a bloodied stone. There's bodies underneath, crushed. Eugene supposed it made his job easier. He fixed up his spectacles, wiping out dust off his smooth face.

Angel knocked off the new Professor. Once the brats with Peculiars come, everything would be more chaotic.

The Principal's unmoving body laid near the portal. The energy in the air didn't feel as prickling. Fasbur's hands twitched as Eris Heindell, version 190 spoke, face painted in hesitance. But between the metallic archway was hints of green. A pink petal flew from the portal and grazed wavy hair.

Fasbur looked stunned, mouthing; "It's working."

Eugene grinned at them.

A dull ache pierced his muscled back, snapping him back to focus. A weakening of the bond like a numbness of a slept leg. Thalamide. Eugene took off the red dart and saw a mirroring one in Angel's white button-up.

His head swerved, alert, checking his surroundings as his hands curled into a fist. "Protect the Principal."

He didn't wait long.

An invisible punch shot through the side of his face. Small fist; nimble but weak. A jab followed. Eugene knew this sequence. He taught it after all.

He caught the next punch and twisted. A guttural groan of pain. A face unveiled, a boy with symmetrical moles, blue eyes wide and hazy as his dark hair swept over his head. He was light and it was easy to toss the boy like a rag doll, body quaking when slammed to the fallen bricks.

The boy bit his arm, hand grasping for a brick that Eugene barely dodged.

Knuckles met his face, nose bruised, small face scrunched in shock and panic. The next punch had him reeling, blood in his tongue. Adolescent skulls were quite malleable. It'd take three hard punches usually.

Eugene's face swerved as the side of his face ate a fist and a shove.

"Leave him alone!" Krowan Huine screamed hoarse despite the fact that he wasn't even looking at the right direction.

Boreas let out a cough, face caked in blood as he rushed, tackling the bigger man without hesitation. Terrible technique—Eugene failed them as a teacher.

He struck the back of the kid's head with his elbow and he crumpled. On the corner of his eyes, he saw Angel holding back Krowan, face hesitant yet also firm. Their gloves had been ripped off when they grew their hands for the fall. Eugene beamed at them, his hands curling on a small, numbered neck with the intent to strangle.

He'd never let them sully their hands with blood, of course. He'd do it all. Pale skin reddened at tightening hands, face curled into pain.

The boy disappeared in a blitz of light. Shit.

"Fasbur!" he warned. Angel was fast but the Peculiar was faster, retreating arm crushed in a second.

Undeterred, Angel flung something to the scarred boy. A paper filled with words, catching fire, growing as it burned. It never reached Krowan, desecrating to a blow of ash.

"Four and half meter range," called out Angel, taking out a long Healing Glyph that wrapped themselves to their crushed arm as he drank potions—always so goddamned ready. Smart little fuck.

Krowan's jaw set.

The other boy teleported to him and in an instant, they were right to Eugene's face. Vines burst out of paper, grabbing his stomach and plunging him backwards. The tips of his foot cracked, ribs bruised and air punched out of his stomach.

"I knew it," Angel said, smug, still dragging him along like a damn dog. "It's not the Peculiar of Reality, Eugene. It's Peculiar of Control."

Krowan halted. Eugene finally breathed, tossing away vines.

"I was wondering why you didn't completely take off my arm, boy," said Angel, dusting off their suit. "You could control only things you deem lower than you. I'm glad you have some respect to your elders. I believe I've overprepared with all the potions and glyphs." They chuckled. "Noirin. I can handle him."

"Krowan," began the other boy. "They're just taunting—"

Fallen bricks began to rise, turning into blades and aimed to strike. "Take the shitbag with glasses, Boreas. Plus.." He looked at him meaningfully. Blue eyes widened and he nodded.

Before Eugene could even blink, a sharp sting bit in the side of his head and his glasses fell off his face—a punch to the back—to the side, then to his stomach. To everything and anything weak and open. His face was teleported, smashed to a brick, to the ground, to a wall in a mere blink. Smart, little weasel. He spat blood, cheeks against rocks. But, here's the thing about smart people.

He thrust his elbows backwards, joint against teeth. Boreas recoiled—disappeared—looked for another opening. The back. A ready fist met his bruised face. They're goddamn predictable.

Unbeknownst, the two Professors were lured away from the portal. A shadow approached the laying Principal, copper hair flowing, kitchen knife grasped by dainty hands. Blade glinted, raised hesitantly to strike.

A cold hand stopped it.

Black eyes shot open. "You forced me to do this Rycella," the Principal snarled as Rycella struggled out of her grip. "You broke the deal." A sun shone on the girl's forehead, the light clouding green eyes. The chant began. "Your will is my will and mine alone. A promise forsaken, you must atone."

A hand of blackened blood pointed. "Kill them."

~°°~

Jhlor was winning. The Peculiar's effects to their body lessened as the gap of experience and skill was shown. A strike to the back of the neck could end it. But, that's the thing about Angel. They always hesitate.

That split-second gave Krowan the opening. A wall of rocks hurled to them at full speed, smashing the Professor to fallen debris.

Krowan puffed out a breath, thinking he'd be given the reprieve of rest. A shine of the blade under the glaring blue light was unseen but felt. A flash of copper, hands meant to aim.

Krowan dodged, confused. The first mistake was hesitating. "Rycella?"

She didn't reply, a puppet in a string. And because the gods were unkind, they decided that now was the best time to end the effects of Thalamide. Rycella pointed a steely finger.

Krowan's hand burst.

In response, the redhead's raised arm crumpled like a tin can. The bones sang as they fixed themselves up and she walked towards the boy, unbothered. Krowan gritted his teeth, rejoining the atoms of his flesh as quickly as possible.

Krowan backed away, legs burning. Once Rycella was close enough to plant a tumor in his brain, he'd die. He couldn't be too close nor too far. He'd always have the disadvantage.

Scarred hand curled to rip. This time, only her fingers were affected. They were fixed at a blink. To be fair, he was never that deluded enough to think he'd actually beat Rycella.

Krowan smirked grimly as he raised the ground he stood, rocks locking to his feet as he flew up, Rycella in his tail. Dirt hardened to chain her legs as stones formed to cage and tear.

She tore her own leg in force, white bones ripped only to grow.

Fucking hell. Unseeing white eyes narrowed in concentration, air crushing the figure in the dust. Blue blood dropped to his nose as copper hair were locked in a tight space.

Golden eyes under cracked glasses blinked. Then, Rycella bit her thumb to the point of tearing and threw it out. Her body exploded, bones like an amalgamation of antlers. The torn thumb grew, mending flesh in an instant, golden eyes glinting like death.

Krowan backed away instantly, riding the earth as if it was a dragon.

Too late.

His feet swelled to the point of cracking the dirt's hold on him. Air kissed his face as he fell, tumbling to the floor like a doll, new scars in his face. Rycella's steps rang close. Death approached.

A voice echoed from the portal, curly hair and hollowed face forcing itself from the metal as light burned brightly. "It's about to—Help!" The voice gurgled into silence.

Rycella halted. She blinked like a newly awakened child, gold and green flickering madly in her eyes. Her own shaky hand punched her face and Rycella's eyes returned and stayed, recognition in her face. "Shit, I'm—"

"Go," Krowan said harshly as he crawled, fixing his legs with a grumble. The ground below her propelled her towards the archway.

Rycella nodded, running back to the portal, face bathed in blue.

The Principal, wide awake now, standing, waiting for something.

Rycella ran, as fast as she could, abdomen searing.

Once close enough, green eyes burned and the Principal's head exploded, black golden blood painting the air. She laughed, head remaking itself in a speed that would make the Peculiar of Life weep. The Undying wouldn't die just yet. The last of the portal unveiled, a red button gleaming under cyan glow.

The shine of rimmed glasses against older, beady eyes.

A race for the button.

The Principal's feet burst to over-grown bones but the woman remained undeterred; a god of war—undying, ascendant.

Gusts of wind coming from the portal catapulted her into the air, chest plunged to a wall's reinforced bars. Ash and dust filled Rycella's tongue. She clung to the portal's wires and saw a curled skeleton tied, stuck to the ground and unmoving. Her jaw set. She gazed back to the portal and saw it.

Ripped weeds flowing, petals of flowers coming from the portal, dancing at the harsh gush of wind as they passed her pale cheeks.

Gravity rose once again.

She slowly clawed her way to the button, auburn hair billowing up to the air like curtains.

"I told you!" the Principal screamed with a triumphant smile, all bloody and teeth, back against a crumbling wall, metal still protruding her empty ribcage. "It's working, Rycella! Press the button!"

The portal shook and—Eris—cried out. "Please."

Rycella heard Boreas hollering himself hoarse, trying to teleport close but Noirin's hold of his blood had him stuck, appearing and disappearing in the same spot. She gazed again to the insides of the portal, the lush green of the forest and the promise of a world that could still be better. Mother flashed in her eyes. Come home, she'd say.

She thought of flowing curly hair, of bright beaming eyes, crinkling in laughter and everything she'd regret.

Rycella pressed the button.

The Principal's maniacal laughter echoed. "RYCELLA! GO!"

Rycella ran on the air, enveloped by the light of the portal and in she went to the world still alive.

The portal crackled, shaking with energy. A red blur—Rycella tossed out like a rag doll, back crashing against a pillar. The gods, of course, would never let mortals have the power of time. Atleast, not without consequences.

A hand filled with numbers plunged out before being seemingly pulled back in and the light on the arc exploded.

~°°~