A man sat comfortably in a chair, possessing six pairs of large, powerful wings that could not be hidden in any way. His sapphire blue eyes were stunning, perfectly matching his jet-black hair. He had a reserved but strong presence.
"Amriel, my friend, I hope you're here to bring me good news..." He smiled as he saw those accompanying him. To his eyes, there was a clear uncontrolled pressure leaking into the air from them. The inexperience of the newcomers was obvious to him, as was their power...
"Major, I'm glad to find you alive... but the situation has certainly developed beyond expectations..."
"Of course it has." The major laughed lightly, picking up a tin of cigars, neatly lined up. It was a rare and expensive product here, only lit on important occasions. As he brought one to his mouth, the captain interrupted him.
"Not just in that sense…" The major's expression fell slightly as he mentally prepared for the news.
"Of the hundred and twenty angels sent on the mission—among them captains, first and second lieutenants, as well as several ranked lower—most were killed…" The major stood slowly and calmly walked to the other side of the room, grabbing a bottle of light golden liquid, pouring a glass, and downing it in one go.
"Continue…" The words were hard to let out.
"Of the roughly one thousand originally rescued, only ten survived and made it back intact. Many of them were talented individuals, whom we were unable to bring back due to certain complications…" The man looked confused for a moment.
"Were there more of those monsters?" His gaze fixated on the humans, perfect in appearance and completely anomalous by the tower's standards.
"A bit over one hundred and fifty low- and mid-level Awakened, about fifty of them high-level, and a few beyond that…" The man almost broke down at hearing this.
"You mean to tell me that out of FIFTY high-level Awakened, you brought me back six high-level and one mid-level?" Amriel squirmed slightly, the irritation from his superior evident with his veins bulging. Adriel rubbed his face slightly.
"I'm sorry, but we'll need to postpone this conversation. The mission was extremely successful in terms of results, but the sacrifices were excessive, as was the loss of many talents. I'll need to study the case more thoroughly than expected and may have to reconsider your position, Amriel. Depending on what happened, you should know that you may be demoted." Amriel already anticipated this outcome and felt a heavy weight descend on him.
"Yes, sir, as you wish." Adriel ordered the captain to leave the room; he wanted to get to know those who had made it to him.
"The situation is not great, but I'd like to extend my greetings to you all. Welcome to the White Tower. Normally, we would place you into training to learn more about the tower and classify you as low-class soldiers." He bowed his head and then lifted it as best as he could.
"But again, things have turned out better than expected, and I'd rather spoil you a bit. Normally, Awakening isn't this good. People like you can learn everything necessary from a simple pamphlet…" Stark raised his hand.
"Does this have to do with our level?" The talk of being high-level didn't escape his notice, and he had many questions about it.
"Yes, basically you belong to a superior and… unfortunate species. Low-level refers to almost everyone, and because it's the general level, most divide it further. Inhuman appearances are the norm… Mid-level refers to individuals who can maintain their original appearance with some degree of modification, whether perfect or imperfect, and typically without gender or with minimal traits, divided into three tiers considered the elite of society…" He poured himself another drink and sipped.
"Then there's the high-level, referred to until then at an experimental level. Created through significant investment in non-Awakened, guiding them over years to an experimental degree with phenomenal results and a proportional financial cost. Their figure is their personal ideal, with unquestionable beauty, possessing a gender, near-perfect memory, and so on…" This time he looked intensely at the bottle, took it and drank straight from the source.
'What's his problem? Wait, if it was a scientific level and he said there were six high-level and one mid-level, there were also some beyond…' His gaze wandered over to the witch and the gothic girl next to her. They were different from the others. He had never wanted to have white hair, and though briefly, he was able to change gender—one of his many abilities.
"In a speculative grade, there's a level beyond… we didn't even have a way to refer to them. I honestly didn't believe it was possible. Perfect appearance in everyone's eyes, more than perfect memory, as if reliving a scene firsthand, the ability to change gender at will, and of course, incredibly powerful—and for the love of everything holy, you can barely contain your aura…" His eyes, dulled by the alcohol, gazed deeply into theirs.
"According to the White Tower's rules, the higher the level of Awakening, the more privileges you receive, including a higher initial rank. The three of you are guaranteed to be at least aspirants, which is already the seventh rank in the hierarchy!" Stark was momentarily stunned.
'If that's the minimum…'
"Those of high-level start at least as third sergeants. Only one of you will have to follow the normal order of things…" He let out a long sigh.
"We expected that an anomalous world would bring something good, but in the end, it revolutionized our ranks, and I'm almost certain some of those left behind were also of beyond level…"
'Looks like they suffered a heavy blow, but considering that everyone we've seen so far is mid-level, which is already rare, they gained a huge investment in return…'
"Therefore, despite the result, Captain Amriel will have to answer for what happened…" Alice asked this time.
"Why is Awakening divided into levels? Shouldn't people rise through them over time?" The major shook his head.
"In essence, this is the beginning and end of the journey. Those who start at low-level can mimic qualities of higher levels as they evolve, but that's all it is, a cheap imitation… except that it's usually expensive and difficult. A high-level combatant can go toe-to-toe with even higher-tier individuals with some training, especially against someone of low-level… It's incredibly rare to hear of someone rising through the levels; it's almost entirely definitive." He took a cloth and wiped his sweaty forehead.
"It's not wrong to say that you are the future of the White Tower. The superiors will lose their minds when they find out about this, and the Commanders will fight fiercely for the right to have each of you under their command." Seeing his growing despair, Stark couldn't help but smile. Alice and the gothic girl were also grinning ear to ear—they had hit the jackpot.
'But why did he say we were superior beings yet unfortunate…' Before Stark could ask, the major brought out a box with necklaces adorned with amber gemstones. He handed them out, asking them to put them on.
"These necklaces are used for various things within the tower. Your identity and rank are encoded in them, along with some exclusive benefits. The three of you will be placed on the twenty-fourth floor, while the others will be on the twenty-third floor. There's a dining hall on the twenty-third floor if you wish to eat together…" Without much more explanation, he hurriedly dismissed them from the room, as if the world were collapsing around him.
"The superiors are going to eat my ass… That Amriel better have a good explanation!"
Stark understood that the situation was more delicate than presented, but for now, he turned to the gothic girl.
"I guess we'll be seeing each other often. What's your name?" She smiled and nodded excitedly.
"Agatha, I'll be happy to work by your side." He returned the gesture, properly introducing himself. His impression of her was that she was more energetic than expected.
'Maybe it's because the day has been a bit fantastic…' The three of them parted from the others on friendly terms and headed to the twenty-fourth floor. When the doors opened, they couldn't help but let their jaws drop.
Their faces lit up at the sight of a wide hallway adorned with red carpets and beautiful paintings framed in gold and encrusted with precious jewels. Gazing upon it, they decided to ask for some drinks together, to be brought by room service—something exclusive to the residents of this floor.
Stark ordered a variety of seafood and other divine, expensive dishes, all of which were free to them. They ate, laughed, and joked, their brilliant futures ahead of them…
Or perhaps the expectations are exaggerated for Beyonders or rather... Another's.
…
…
An old man with a long white beard reaching his chest, leaning on a simple wooden staff, looked back where Major Adriel was kneeling solemnly, finishing his report after speaking with Amriel.
"This has the potential to topple the tower... Do the divisions already know about this?" Adriel only nodded in agreement.
"In that case, war is not far off…"