Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

  The insistent, digital shriek of Ayron’s alarm clock violently yanked him from the abyss of a dead slumber. As his heart hammered against his ribs, the young man shot upright in bed, gasping for air as if resurfacing from a long dive. The harsh wake-up call pulled him out of a particularly vivid and brutal night terror. Depictions of his fractured life continued to swirl like black ink in clear water, never fully receding or offering him the mercy of true peace.

  He scrubbed a hand roughly over his face, feeling the cold sweat clinging to his skin. The digital clock glowed an irritating red: 09:00. Time to get up.

  The foreigner swung his legs over the side of the narrow, unyielding mattress, the thin fabric of his sleepwear offering little comfort against the early morning chill of the tavern. He moved with a practiced, almost mechanical efficiency toward the small, attached restroom. The sink faucet hissed faintly as he turned it, letting the water run until it was ice-cold. He cupped his hands and splashed the freezing liquid violently onto his face, once, twice, three times.

  The sudden, shocking jolt of the ice-cold liquid against his warm, clammy cheeks was a powerful, immediate anchor to reality. All the ethereal, terrifying images of his past; the sleepless nights lying in fear of his safety against the wrath of his step-father, the ones where he went all day without a morsel of food, the blaming voice of his mother’s screams shattered like fragile glass. The mental haze cleared, forcing his focus entirely onto the sharp, immediate sensation of the present moment. He was here. He was Ayron, and he was safe, for now.

  He stared at his reflection in the poorly lit mirror. The face looking back was lean, etched with a perpetual weariness that belied his young age, with a pair of intense, calculating eyes that were perhaps the only things truly alive in his exhausted features. ‘Let’s go. Keep moving forward.’ Ayron told himself in an attempt to reassure himself. After life’s kicked him down so many wrong turns, he’s learned to embrace today and not take it for granted.

  A knock at the door pulled him out of his stupor. “Ayron,” Jaysi’s voice could be heard on the other side. “Breakfast is ready!”

  “Thanks, I’ll be down in a minute,” the young man responded, pulling a set of clothes from the drawer. Thankfully, Jak’s old clothes fit the foreigner. After he changed, Ayron went downstairs into the pub. The scent of bacon, eggs, and sausage filled his nostrils. The foreigner’s stomach began to growl almost immediately.

  “Help yourself to a plate; there’s plenty,” Kaysi offered, pouring coffee. The young man took a plate, loaded it with food, and accepted a coffee cup from his instructor.

  “What’s the agenda for today?” Kaysi inquired between bites of his meal.

  “I have a match scheduled in two hours. I’ll be back in time for my shift,” Jak replied.

  “My room at the guild is ready,” Ayron mentioned. “I think I’ll go check it out before my match tonight.”

  “I’ll walk with you,” Jak offered with a smile. “I heard they were remodeled last year. I haven’t seen them since Nikai’s party years ago.”

  “Thanks,” the foreigner nodded, grateful for the company.

  “Jaysi?” The tavern owner looked at his youngest daughter. “What are your plans for today?”

  “Some friends have a board post that needs completed. I’m heading to the guild later to meet them,” Jaysi explained. “The local seamstress put out a request days ago to search for different flora for dyes. Kaitly, Sari, Lyra, and I are looking for a rare flower on the west edge of town.”

  “Be safe and have a good time, everyone,” Kaysi grinned, finishing his breakfast. “I have a busy day ahead. I expect a crowd after our impromptu dinner service yesterday. Ayron, please feel free to take Jak’s hand-me-downs. I was going to donate them to the guild, but since they fit you, I think it's a better use for them.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Ayron said graciously.

  After they finished eating, Jak and Ayron packed his belongings into a medium box before leaving Solaris. The pair then headed northwest, the main road leading toward the massive, imposing structure of Raider’s Tower. The sun was beginning to rise, painting the building in hues of orange and pink, yet the streets remained lively with the morning rush.

  As they walked, the foreigner’s mind, typically sharp and focused, drifted to the subject of his upcoming ‘title match.’ It was the headline event of the evening, a primetime battle that had drawn significant attention from both the local populace and the higher-ups within the guild. He was facing the exceptionally talented Iridiana Prismachi, a young woman whose presence had piqued his interest from the very moment they first crossed paths.

  While on the surface, everything about her seemed completely ordinary, almost forgettable, Ayron sensed an overwhelming, almost terrifying wellspring of raw power deep within her. It was a power that felt ancient, coiled, and ready to spring forth.

  The young man could tell, with the same instinctual certainty that guided him in combat, that she was masking her true strength. Iridiana moved with a practiced economy of motion, her eyes too knowing for her apparent age, and her polite demeanor felt like a carefully constructed facade. Ayron knew this match wouldn't be a simple formality; it was a dance between two individuals hiding their true capabilities. He was certain she was operating at a fraction of her potential, and there was no telling just how strong she actually was when pushed to her limits. The prospect didn't unnerve him; it invigorated him.

  Jak was first in the door of the guild hall. He opened it, gesturing for Ayron to enter. The room became increasingly quiet as members turned to see who was entering. Many stared at the newcomer, whose face was plastered all over the walls, along with Iridiana’s. Their fight was being publicized throughout the guild. The foreigner felt the blood in his veins turn to ice as the hairs on his neck stood up. He hated the feeling of being watched, and now he was front and center for everyone to see.

  Jack gave Ayron a reassuring pat on the shoulder, almost making him jump. “Come on, let’s get you settled.”

  “Yeah,” the newcomer sighed, heading straight for the ‘guild members’ desk.

  Behind the computer sat a young woman with dark, curly hair. “Good morning! May I see your RTG Panel?”

  Ayron nodded. “Uh, sure,” he said, removing the watch-like device and handing it over.

  “Thank you!” She placed the panel on a device on her desk. It lit up, displaying a small screen. “Alright, Ayron, congratulations! It looks like you’ve been accepted into the upper guild.” The young woman opened her desk drawer and pulled out a teal-colored key with a chip. “This is your room key, number 2954. You get one free replacement per year if you lose it; after that, there will be a charge.”

  “Sounds fair,” Ayron replied, watching her pull out a small stack of papers.

  “I need you to read through these and sign where indicated. Once that’s done, I’ll activate your key, and you can move in.”

  Jak helped Ayron by taking the papers. “Thanks, Maiah.”

  “Any time,” the desk clerk smiled.

  The two took a seat, and Ayron set his box on the floor before starting on the necessary paperwork. He skimmed the dorm rules and regulations, searching for anything obscure. It took a few minutes. Once he was finished, Ayron took the papers back to Maiah.

  “Alright,” the young woman skimmed the papers, making sure every place was signed and initialized correctly. “Everything looks good! Here’s your key, and your panel back.” Maiah placed them at the front of the desk, allowing Ayron to pick them up. “There’s a set of elevators behind me; they will lead you to the dorms. Welcome to the upper tower, once again.”

  “Thanks.” Ayron nodded, looking back to see Jak already next to him with the foreigner’s box of belongings.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “This is exciting!” Jak had a bounce to his step as he walked toward the elevator. “We’re one step closer to getting you home!”

  “How so?” The foreigner pressed the ‘up’ button on the pad, but nothing happened. He tried again before looking at the sign, trying to figure out what he was missing.

  “Tournament prizes! They vary wildly depending on the tower level,” Jak explained, leaning back against the rough-hewn stone wall of the tower corridor. “For the lower towers, the focus is usually on necessities and basic comforts. The best prize we’ve seen in a while for the lower tower came last month, a full year’s stay in the dormitory, which is a luxury saved for the upper and elite guild members. You can imagine the frenzy. Everyone from the first, second, and third tower bolted to the sign-ups to get a shot at that prize, myself included. It was a vicious bracket, but worth the effort just for the chance to save that much coin on living accommodations.”

  He paused, a slight, knowing smirk on his face. Jak chuckled, watching Ayron struggle. “You have to use your room key to get on the elevator.”

  “Oh, huh.” As the foreigner observed the panel, he noticed a touchpad. Ayron tapped his card against it, causing the elevator to beep.

  “Welcome!” The elevator chimed as it opened. The two young men entered as the foreigner pressed the button for floor twenty-nine. The machine immediately began its descent, much to Ayron’s surprise. It was a smooth motion that he barely noticed. ‘Makes sense, the dorms are underground. This building would’ve been enormous with over fifty floors.’ The foreigner mused as he glanced at the number of floors on the elevator’s panel.

  Picking up where he left off, Jak continued. “That’s small potatoes compared to what the upper towers offer. Those in tower four and beyond are a different beast altogether. The sheer value of the prizes is a reflection of the caliber of the participants and the complexity of the challenges they face.”

  Jak straightened up, his voice dropping to a more serious, almost reverent tone. “We’re talking about wish orbs, maps that lead to rare artifacts, contracts with the Prisma Defense Unit, ‘Vidya’ the All-knowing, answering your questions. I heard the winner of the last tower five tournament walked away with a piece of property in the city; actual, deeded land, not just a rental. That’s the kind of power and influence the upper tiers are playing for. It’s no longer about a free bed; it’s about tangible, life-altering resources that can propel an agent into the ranks of the truly elite.”

  It only took a few moments for the sleek, silent elevator to whisk them upward, the number display ticking by until it reached their destination. The soft chime of the 'ding' announced their arrival. “Floor twenty-nine. You may exit,” a smooth, automated voice stated.

  Ayron stepped out first, the quiet luxury of the hallway a stark contrast to the utilitarian aesthetic he was used to. He followed the clear, minimalist signs until he reached the door marked 2954. Sliding the assigned keycard into the reader, he heard a soft click before turning the polished metal knob and pushing the door inward.

  He stopped just past the threshold, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly at the sheer amount of space afforded to him. This wasn't just a room; it was a sanctuary. The main living area was furnished with a comfortable-looking, L-shaped sofa, a modern television mounted on the wall, and a low, dark-wood coffee table resting on a plush area rug. Along one wall, a recessed bookshelf was already partially filled with what looked like standard reference materials and a few fiction novels; a curious detail Ayron filed away.

  To his immediate left was a full kitchen: stainless steel appliances gleamed under the soft, recessed lighting, and a small four-seat dining table. The right side of the living space was dominated by a set of sliding wooden doors, currently closed, which he presumed led into the bedroom.

  Before inspecting the sleeping quarters, Ayron noticed a plain, wooden door set several feet further along the right-hand wall. He opened it, revealing a surprisingly large walk-in closet that wasn't just for clothes. It connected to the bedroom on the left, but its true gem was straight ahead: a spacious, immaculate bathroom, complete with a walk-in shower and a separate deep-soaking tub.

  “Whoa, these are nice!” Jak’s voice startled him, echoing his own unspoken thoughts.

  “It’ll work,” Ayron finally managed, his voice sounding oddly formal in the expansive space. “There’s certainly more space than I’m used to.”

  He continued his exploration, methodically checking every closet, cupboard, and drawer. He found more nooks and crannies, hidden compartments, and storage options than he could ever imagine using, enough space to hoard belongings for a small family, let alone a single person. He tested the security of the doors and confirmed the location of the internal comms panel.

  The realization settled over him with a profound weight: he had an entire one-bedroom apartment to himself. He’d never known true, uncompromised privacy. Every living arrangement he’d ever had, from the multiple homes he’d inhabited to the barracks-style training facilities of Gold HD, had its own quirks. His space was always invaded, monitored, or, worse, casually taken away. Even during his elite training with the intelligence agency, he was assigned two or three roommates, his personal corner of a shared room defined by little more than a thin screen. Having all of this: a living room, a full kitchen, a private bedroom, and a massive bathroom. It felt unsettlingly good, too much like a lie waiting to be exposed.

  ‘I could get used to this.’ Ayron felt his shoulders relax for the first time in years. His jaw unclenched, causing it to pop and crackle. He was home, this space was his alone, and he would do anything to protect it.

  A high-pitched ding cut sharply through Ayron's racing thoughts, pulling his focus away from the strange, futuristic decor of the room. The speaker, a disembodied female voice, announced with a mechanical cheer, "Your match is in thirty minutes. You may now enter locker room number three."

  Jak, still gazing around the space in wide-eyed amazement, clapped his hands together. "That's my cue to go! If I win today, I’ll reach tower three by the end of the month!" He swung his backpack over one shoulder, a motion filled with easygoing confidence. "But seriously, we should definitely celebrate after your match tonight; win or lose!"

  Ayron finally tore his eyes away from a glittering advertisement on the television. He turned to his friend, a slight, good-natured smirk playing on his lips. "What if I lose spectacularly? Like, 'knocked out in the first minute' lose?" He affected a mock frown. "There's not much point in celebrating a brutal loss, is there? I’ll just want to hide under the nearest rock."

  Jak waved a dismissive hand, his enthusiasm unquelled. "It's a housewarming party!" he cheered, the words practically radiating a celebratory air. A wide, genuinely infectious grin spread across his face as he marched toward the door, opening it. "New city, new life. It’s time to celebrate!" The young man gave a theatrical wave over his shoulder before practically bouncing through the doorway. "See ya!"

  "Later," Ayron waved back, a genuine warmth in his voice that was a rarity for him. He watched the door glide smoothly closed, the soft thunk of the latch seeming loud in the sudden quiet. He was alone again.

  The foreigner continued looking around the small, private holding room in detached fascination. It was so different compared to anything he'd ever seen in Haamu. He felt a peculiar mix of nervousness and exhilaration. His first official fight in this new world was going to commence later today. While he wasn’t facing the strongest member of the guild, Iridiana earned a reputation throughout the community. Defeating her in his second-ever battle in Raider’s Tower would solidify his standing and become the largest upset in recent guild history.

  Ayron glanced at the sleek, minimalist clock embedded in the wall opposite him. The digital display read 11:00. His match was at 7:00 tonight. He tapped a finger thoughtfully against his chin, his gaze fixed on the clock. Instantly, a box popped up on his television. Ayron’s head turned, reading the message that spread across the screen.

  Good Afternoon!

  Your match is scheduled eight hours from now. Battle-training facilities are now unlocked for your disposal. You may train any time during this period, up to thirty minutes before your match. At that time, you have access to the locker rooms to place your personal belongings.

  Since this is your first battle in Tower Five, the rules are promptly displayed below.

  Enki techniques are required to participate

  Weapons are permitted, excluding firearms or explosives of any kind.

  Critical strikes are not permitted; points are awarded by officials, ranging from one to three. A knockout is valued at five points.

  First to five points wins.

  A time limit of forty-five minutes is set for each match, with the exception being an evening title match, which has unlimited time.

  My warm-up for the match will only take thirty minutes. That gives me over seven hours of freedom. What to do, what to do.’ The sheer volume of unstructured time felt both heavy and wonderful. Ayron needed to make a plan, a strategy for this newfound existence. ‘I need to investigate the local market, learn how to use my payment card, and maybe figure out where the nearest library is. I’m sure I’ll be able to find some information on this kingdom. When was the last time I ate?’

  The idea of food finally overrode the rest of his thoughts, grounding him in the immediate reality. He straightened his shoulders, the nervousness giving way to a quiet, focused resolve. The fight was a mere distraction, a necessary step. The real challenge lay in navigating this new world, and he had seven precious hours to begin his work. He turned toward his door, ready to begin the next phase of his journey.