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The Singularity Of The Summit

As a Whisperer Star descends upon the 51st Floor of the Desirer's Summit, the rampant forces cause a calamity. Mortals cannot oppose a Star. It is the most obvious law that exists within the Tower, also known as the Desirer's Summit. As if abiding by the law, Aiden Nightshade is engulfed by the calamity, and in his final moments, witnesses the betrayal of his trusty comrade. However, instead of arriving at the Gates Of Hell, he instead travels 17 years back in time. With life about to delve into chaos, can Aiden achieve his dreams? Can he get revenge? Can he develop a Legend rivaling that of a Star?

AceAmbrosia · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
12 Chs

Tutorial

Below the Desirer's Summit, directly 'under' the First Floor–also named the Hub Of Desires, or Floor Of Beginnings–was the Tutorial Area. The Tutorial featured a total of 7 Zones, named after the colors of the rainbow.

The first Tutorial Zone was the Red Zone, followed by Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, and finally, Violet. 

Each batch of Tutorial Participants contained 1000 future players.

As I recalled the information, I opened my eyes. As light flooded into my pupils, I observed the area I was in. It was a hall, roughly the size of a large football stadium, covered by beige walls and a black ceiling.

The design was minimalistic, but the concentration of a certain 'energy' made it seem like the most grand destination in all the lands.

My body felt somewhat heavy, but that was to be expected. It was the first time I was being exposed to 'mana,' and although I couldn't particularly 'sense' or control it, it still existed within me.

And just because I couldn't sense something didn't mean it didn't affect me.

I glanced at my bag, slinging it across my shoulder. Then, I took a look at my sword, and after making sure I had everything, I stood up. There were about 200 players in the hall, which meant there were five such halls that contained people of this batch.

A total of 1000 to begin the Tutorial.

"Aiden?" A certain voice entered my ears. My eyes widened, and my hand shot to my scabbard. Thankfully, I managed to suppress my desire to cut down the 'thing' that stood before me. But I couldn't resist forming an unsightly expression.

It was a boy–roughly 19 years of age, the same as me–with blonde hair, and azure eyes similar to mine. One might think we were related, but we couldn't be farther apart. It was Kyle Rodrigo, the 'pretty boy' of our University.

Why the fuck was he here?

Was he in Bryxton Tower when this began? And why does he seem so calm? Shouldn't a 'regular' person be scared shitless by now?

"Kyle," I greeted in a not-so-friendly manner. Kyle and I did not share a great history. The pretty boy before all other students in the University had an unsightly side to him… a side he only showed me, his childhood friend.

It had been a while.

"Do you know what this is all about?" Kyle inquired, grabbing a seat beside me before insisting I sat down. Ah, so he planned on maintaining this facade. I took a seat, placing my backpack down.

"No idea… you?"

"Nope," replied Kyle, releasing a sigh. One could spot a hint of panic in his tone. So he was capable of being scared.

I hadn't seen him in the tower during my previous life, so maybe he'd died during the Tutorial. Since I didn't enter as soon as the gates opened, I hadn't an inkling of what happened to this batch.

"It looks like you're prepared for the worst," said Kyle, chuckling bitterly. "Hey, can I have one of those knives? We might need it during the Tutorial."

I glanced at the three daggers. Giving one away shouldn't be a problem… but to Kyle? 

"Ah, sorry, but I have a use for them."

"So you do know what this is about," said Kyle, raising an eyebrow. His smile faded, replaced by a ghastly expression that caused tidal waves to ram against my insides. Why was I shaken up by a regular human?

I assumed it had something to do with my memories.

But why didn't it happen with Reggie, then? 

To be fair, I did feel the sudden urge to kill Kyle. But doing so would only attract unneeded attention, which I couldn't afford yet. Only after I gained some standing could I reveal myself proudly.

I needed the basic power to contend against the players of the other worlds.

Although I could defeat humans from Earth, I couldn't match up against Orc Warriors or Ogres from other planets, yet. 

"I do."

Kyle nodded, his expression unchanged. I admired his nonchalant behavior in such a predicament. Had it been me of the first round, I would've been pissing my pants by now, calling out to my mother in fear.

So this was the mental fortitude of an 'Adapter.'

"You'll tell me, won't you?" He asked, but it seemed more like an order. His eyes contained a sense of danger. They were the eyes of someone who had the entire situation… me, in the palm of his hands.

But alas, he was greatly mistaken.

Perhaps 'me' of the first round would have submitted to these words. But I was not the same person.

"Go suck up to someone else," I reprimanded in a cold voice. I stood up yet again, preparing to leave the boy behind. However, at that moment, I felt a powerful tug at my arm. My eyes narrowed.

"Did you get hit in the head?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowed. "Do I have to remind you your place?"

"No…" I said, fed up. "For the first time, I need to tell you 'your' place."

Kyle gritted his teeth. Suddenly, his expression turned mad, like the face of someone belonging in a mental asylum. This was the real Kyle… someone no one other than I had seen. Someone not even his parents knew of.

He stuck his leg forward, intertwining it with mine before attempting to punch my jaw. At that moment, he retracted his foot, trying to shatter my balance so that his punch could shatter my bones.

It was practically impossible for a University Student to possess such killing intent.

A regular student might have been flustered.

Shing!

My sword left the scabbard, its edge imprinting a mark on reality. It slashed through the wind pressure, creating an arc.

At that moment, I saw strands of hair and pieces of dead skin fall to the ground.

Slowly yet steadily, blood trickled down Kyle's forehead, a scar etched on his skin.

I sheathed my blade.