Boobs, Kellan Vittori

With unsteady hands, I reached for my cane, the familiar weight offering a semblance of stability as I attempted to rise from the couch. The room swam before my eyes, distorted by the haze of alcohol that clouded my senses. Nonetheless, I pressed forward, determined to navigate the treacherous path to the bathroom.

Each step was a battle against gravity, my wobbly balance betraying the effects of the entire bottle of wine I had consumed. I struggled to maintain my footing, muscles trembling with the effort to keep myself upright. But in my inebriated state, coordination proved elusive, and before I knew it, I missed a step, hurtling towards the unforgiving embrace of the cold marble floor.

The impact was jarring, a sharp jolt of pain reverberating through my skull as my head collided with the hard surface. The world spun around me, the sudden shock of sobriety cutting through the fog of alcohol-induced stupor. As I lay there, dazed and disoriented, I felt a warm trickle of liquid seep from the back of my head, pooling beneath me in a gory puddle.

In that moment, the gravity of the situation dawned upon me with chilling clarity. Was this how it would end? Alone, in my penthouse, surrounded by nothing but darkness and regret? The thought sent a shiver down my spine as I closed my eyes, bracing myself for the inevitable descent into oblivion.

*

As I gradually regained consciousness, a throbbing ache pulsed through my head, exacerbated by the harsh glare of the light above. My ears rang with a disconcerting noise, the sound echoing through the fog of my dazed mind. With great effort, I forced my eyes to open, only to be met with a perplexing sight.

Before me, a pair of boobs filled my field of vision, their curves soft and inviting against my cheek. For a moment, I was struck by a surreal sense of disbelief. Was this heaven? And if so, was my heavenly reward an eternity spent nestled between a pair of breasts?

Despite the absurdity of the situation, I found myself instinctively drawn closer to them, seeking solace in their comforting embrace. As I buried myself in their warmth, a sense of peace washed over me, soothing the pain and confusion that had plagued me moments before.

But even as the darkness beckoned, pulling me back into its comforting embrace, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was amiss.

*

As the fever raged within me, consuming my body with searing heat, I felt a soothing touch caress my forehead. A cool cloth, dampened with refreshing water, was pressed gently against my skin, offering a brief respite from the relentless fire that ravaged my senses.

Another cloth trailed across my body, its chilled touch like a balm to my fevered skin. With each stroke, I felt the fever begin to cool, the intense heat gradually giving way to a welcome coolness that spread throughout my body.

Despite the discomfort of my illness, there was a strange sense of comfort in the gentle ministrations of those hands caring for me. Their touch was tender and compassionate, a silent reassurance that I was not alone in my suffering.

As the coolness enveloped me, wrapping me in its comforting embrace, I felt myself drifting once more into the soothing embrace of darkness.

*

As I stirred from the depths of unconsciousness, my eyes blinked open to a scene of opulent luxury. Surrounding me was a lavish room adorned with exquisite furnishings and rich fabrics, a stark contrast to the dimly lit confines of my penthouse.

A sense of lethargy weighed heavily upon me as I struggled to make sense of my surroundings. My gaze was drawn to the source of light in the room – a radiant crystal suspended from the ceiling by a single, slender metal chain. The sight of it puzzled me, its ethereal glow casting an otherworldly aura over the room.

As I attempted to sit up, my movements sluggish and uncoordinated, a sudden realization struck me with a force that left me reeling. With trembling hands, I reached down to pull back the blankets that enveloped me, and to my utter astonishment, I found not one, but two legs beneath them.

The shock of this discovery threatened to overwhelm me, sending a jolt of panic coursing through my veins. How was it possible? I distinctly remembered the agony of my amputated limb, the constant reminder of my shattered dreams and broken body.

But as the realization sunk in, a flood of memories surged forth, crashing over me like a tidal wave. Fragmented images flashed before my eyes – the accident, the pain, the darkness that had threatened to consume me. And yet, here I was, whole and intact, with two functioning legs as if the horrors of my past had never happened.

As the haze of confusion began to lift, I found myself grappling with a new reality, one in which my name was no longer Kellan Ace, but Kellan Vittori. It was a name bestowed upon me by marriage, a union that had transpired in the depths of the night, binding me to one of Earth's most illustrious families – the Vittoris.

The significance of the Vittori name was not lost on me. For centuries, their lineage had stood as a beacon of power and influence, their wealth and prestige unparalleled in the annals of history. Yet, their rise to prominence was not without its dark chapters.

Over three centuries ago, the world had been plunged into chaos as dungeons erupted across the globe, decimating three-quarters of the population in their wake. It was a cataclysmic event that threatened to extinguish humanity's flame forever, until the emergence of the towers.

These towering structures, appearing on every continent, heralded the arrival of the system – a mysterious force that granted certain individuals the power to combat the monsters that roamed the dungeons. With each challenge conquered, these individuals grew stronger, ascending the tower's floors and getting stronger.

Yet, it was not until a century later did we know about lore of the tower that uncovered its true nature. Earth, it seemed, occupied the lowest level – floor 10, according to the denizens of other worlds. Our lack of magical prowess had relegated us to this position. All tower floors where not actually floors, but worlds or dimensions. The tower was like a tree, and the many world were akin to branches.

Now, as humanity strove to carve out its place in the vast expanse of the tower, the level of each floor fluctuated in accordance with the average power level of its inhabitants. We were no longer confined to the confines of floor 10; we had ascended to floor 20 due to the upgraded power level of lifeforms on earth.

In the sprawling expanse of the tower's myriad worlds, competition was an inherent aspect of existence. Intelligent lifeforms vied for supremacy, their ambitions driving them to conquer and dominate those deemed weaker or less formidable.

Amidst this ceaseless struggle for power, alliances were forged and rivalries ignited, with races and worlds pitted against one another in a relentless battle for dominance. Yet, amidst the chaos and upheaval, Earth is still overlooked.

Earth has managed to evade the attention of would-be conquerors and invaders. Unlike other worlds, there was nothing particularly remarkable about our humble planet. We possessed no coveted resources or advanced technology to attract the gaze of ambitious interlopers. Yet.

Dungeons, enigmatic phenomena that fracture from the tower's structure, pose a perpetual threat to the stability of worlds within the multiverse. These fragmented realms, teeming with monstrous creatures and treacherous landscapes, continue to spawn relentlessly until they are located and eradicated from their source worlds within the tower itself.

On Earth, the emergence of the tower was a cataclysmic event, preceded by two harrowing years of chaos and devastation. As dungeons proliferated across the globe, vast swathes of the planet became overrun by malevolent entities, rendering much of its surface uninhabitable. Only a handful of bastions remained untouched, havens for those fortunate enough to seek refuge within their protective confines.

As the tower's emergence heralded the activation of the system, Earth found itself plunged into a two-year period of turmoil and upheaval. Dungeons sprouted across the globe like malignant tumors, unleashing hordes of monstrous creatures upon unsuspecting populations. The once-thriving planet was transformed into a nightmarish landscape, with vast swathes of territory rendered inhospitable to human habitation.

In the face of this unprecedented crisis, the first system holders, individuals blessed with the power of the system, sprang into action. Recognizing the urgency of the situation, they erected islands in the sky adjacent to the towering structures that had materialized on Earth's continents. These celestial sanctuaries, crafted by the hands of the system holders, served as bastions of safety for their families and loved ones away from the chaos below.

Among these lofty havens was the Vittori Island, a colossal expanse of land suspended high above the American continent. To call it an island would be a gross understatement; its sheer magnitude rivaled that of entire the entire northern continent, a testament to the power and influence of its creator, Evander Vittori – the first swordsman and a revered figure among system holders.

From his celestial domain, Vittori Island gazed down upon the transformed Earth, his island a beacon of hope amidst the devastation below. But even as the planet expanded and evolved in response to the introduction of mana and magic, the island remained a mere small fraction of its newfound size. According to historical accounts, Earth had grown five times larger, a testament to the profound changes wrought by the emergence of the tower and the system.

As I rose from the bed and made my way to the window, a sense of awe washed over me at the sight that greeted my eyes. Amongst the stars and billowing clouds, a vague silhouette loomed on the horizon – the towering form of the tower itself.