Chapter 2

“Pan-Doros (All Gifts)”

… …

“Very well then. Then the deal is sealed.”

My savior approached me as he put his hands, massive hands, on my shoulders. Somehow his hands didn’t pass through my corporeal form. Was he like Hermes?

“Hundreds of Billions of intelligent beings dwell within this tower. With less than 20 exceptions, all were created and born within the tower. As I dictate, souls from the inside are bound to it and may never leave…but you, you will be one of the exceptions. An exception of an exception.”

I was getting quite confused by his explanation.

“You will be the only irregular to have never opened the Tower’s Gate. You are too weak at the moment to open the Tower’s doors. So I shall reincarnate you inside the tower. A regular with the soul of an irregular…Such a story!”

I felt myself fading little by little. The presence I had in the moment becoming weaker by the moment.

“You who hold All-Gifts, make sure to use them well. Curiosity will lead your way and that pithos tied to your soul…I took the liberty to refill it. Of course, the most loyal of them was given a tiny portion of my authority.”

I couldn’t see myself anymore and my vision was getting blurry.

“Reach the Top. The top beyond the false ceiling that kid put there. Reach the stars and I’ll be here, waiting for you. I’ll wish you luck Pandora”

“Wait…what is your name?” The name of my savior.

“Huh, I was so focused I forgot to share. The denizens inside know me as Phantaminum. Remember that this is a Prelude, Pandora”

What? I couldn’t hear anymore. I couldn’t see, touch, smell or hear no longer. Well, it wasn’t like I was new to this, I simply chose to let myself relax in the emptiness as I awaited my next journey.

(A.N: For those of you who cannot imagine the scale of the Tower. Imagine the Eurasia continent as the size of 1 floor. The height of each floor would be around the height of the sky itself. Pile that up at least 135 times for the known floors of the Tower. This means the tower is at least 11 times the size of Earth.)

POV Arie , Head of the Arie Family, The White Sword. On the 100F

(AN: Arie Hon is a fairly tall looking man (187cm) with notably pale skin and long white hair that flows down his back and also covers the upper half of his face. On his right hip hangs his sheathed sword. His clothes resembles that of a pope’s ceremonial robes. Colors are white and blue/purple)

He pondered and wondered as time flowed past, ignoring him. After all, he was immortal; Never aging, never weakening, never dying. What he pondered…no one knew. He simply thought of the early days of his life when things have been different.

When he was not a god, not an immortal, not the White Oar of the tower…and yet for what he could remember, those days were better than what was now. The age of genesis when they entered the tower together and crusaded up the tower fueled by mortal feelings.

Conquering floor after floor they adventured, pioneered, discovered the wonders of the world on each floor. Every floor that awaited them presented a new world, dimension, challenges, and rewards.

And yet…yet…it began on the Hell Train when things began to change. When the blood of adventure that pumped through our hearts bled, changed, morphed, into something different.

The challenges of the floors increased in difficulty…or it should have. The strength they had, gained, was simply too much. Nothing presented a challenge anymore as the seeds of adventure died.

It was always evident that they were different from the residents, natives, of the tower but discovering their purpose, their true strength and authority…it became blatantly clear.

They were whales among plankton, sharks among fish.

For the effort they had put in, the group continued to climb…and climb. Conquering the floors along the way up to claim their promised prize…until climbing lost meaning.

Worlds once filled with wonders turned grey and challenges that once thrilled them lost their excitement.

They were gods…they were whales stuffed inside of fish bowl, sharks entertaining tadpoles.

“We’ll Stop Here.” Was what their leader, Jahad, said on the floor. The 134th floor where it was now regarded as the top of the Tower.

All of—most of us agreed with his decision…there simply was no point in continuing to crusade up the tower. There was no joy, no reward, no challenge…only pointless fighting and tests with seemingly no top of the tower. As it was stated…the tower was endless.

Not all of us thought this way and the two left…and soon after began the war. The war which truly hurt his heart to have to participate in. He sided with Jahad, having understood his motives and seeing no point in continuing the struggle…but his two close friends didn’t feel the same way.

It was a horrible time…a time in which only resulted in two lost friends and a creation of a group which simply did not let them, especially him, forget their mistake…the moment their friendship broke.

The day Viole and Arlene Grace fought, one was killed, and one left forever.

F.U.G…For Unforgettable Grace…a group that exists solely to kill us, the remainder of the first pioneers.

It has been hundreds of thousands of years since then and things barely changed. The eternal war, which had raged on since the beginning of the tower, was forcefully put to a stop under Jahad’s Empire. The original thirteen, now eleven, formed the 10 Great Families and Jahad.

The blood passed on through the descendants giving them great strength and further showcasing the strength of the 10 families as they climb the tower and become a ranker. The cycle continuing to strengthen the hold the families had on the tower.

My family, the Great Arie, was easily one of the strongest of even the 10 families if not the very best; comparable only to the Ha or the Khun family excluding Jahad. Perhaps it was due to my age but things turned grey and bleak with little things of interest. Worship and prayers sounded like complaints and the ordinary people like mere ants. Only my family even mattered and it wasn’t by much either anymore.

My dozens of wives having bore my children, whom gave birth to their own children and so on. The Arie blood spread until I couldn’t differentiate between even my own blood. But this one was different…she was different.

It had been at least a millennia since I had embraced a woman, feeling less and less of the need to, but relishing in the sinful feeling of being ‘alive’ and ‘mortal’ I made love to one of my late wives.

It seemed like I had barely blinked when I was notified of her birth. My child, for the first time in a thousand years, and not someone of diluted blood. She brought before me the infant where I held the little thing in my hands. I had expected to feel nothing more than amusement but looking into its eyes I couldn’t help but feel more. To feel the long lost emotion of excitement, interest, adoration, and perhaps the slightest bit of paternal love. There was just something fundamentally different about her that even he couldn’t tell what it was.

She wasn’t fish. She was just like…him. Himself and the others. Someone of his species.

She had the tell-tale Arie traits of glowing white hair, bleached white skin, and gray eyes…except this little one’s left eye looked as if it was carved straight out of a crystal; glassy, glossy and blank like it’s mineral counterpart. Looking deeper he saw hell, darkness, all evil, the abyss and yet somehow it only made her even more exciting, interesting, adored, and loved. He, having saw the evils within the tower, only saw the benefits of having such evil at her disposal. He could already feel the proud moment when his daughter would spread his name even further across this endless tower.

He would help her become more resilient, smarter, stronger. She would carry the sword of Arie farther than anyone ever has…and just maybe, just maybe, she would break through that false ceiling and lead the tower to greater heights.

He put his hand on her sleeping forehead as he called upon all the authority he had in the tower. His contracts with the administrators and his dominion across the many floors. His control over the shinsu as he gave all the blessings he could into the child. Strength, elegance, talent beyond all his children, and finally overwhelming authority over the shinsu of the tower; genius among geniuses, prodigy among prodigies, blessed among the blessed, she would be perfect.

“What shall I name her milord?” His wife, Aria, asked as she took his child back. The servants were quick to wrap the child before handing her back to her mother.

What should be her name indeed…she was blessed, truly blessed; even the curses that layered her soul was nothing but blessings in disguise in this tower. Adding on top his blessings, she received All-Gifts.

“Pan-Dora. Her name shall be Arie Aria Pandora.”

The wife and the servants bowed as they took the baby away.

POV Arie Pandora, 1 year old

Handing a One year old child who barely started walking an actual sword would not be taken as common sense…but not in the Arie family apparently. Throughout the tower, there was no other family more renowned for their swordsmanship than the Arie Family.

Composed of unique swords technique which could only truly be learned if they held Arie blood, it was a general rule for most regulars to avoid an Arie with a sword…and which member of the family would be dumb enough to not have a sword on them?

The style made so powerful, having essentially no blind spots, nearly impossible to evade, and even now after hundreds of millennia the tower still failed to provide a technique to counteract the Arie Swordsmanship. Well…the only proven ways would be to be so tough enough to literally endure the strikes or simply be better at Arie Swordsmanship.

Even then, it was a rather well hidden fact that not all members of the family get to learn the true Arie Swordsmanship. The Main family, direct descendent, of Arie Hon had the privilege and blood-right to learn and acquire this form of Swordsmanship. Those who’s blood was diluted were (and can) only allowed to learn the basics before picking up bits and pieces as they climbed the tower.

As I received the baby sized long sword, I felt that the blade somehow respond to me…as if it didn’t want to part with a member of the Arie family. To entertain the blade, I gave it a swing to cut the empty air. To my surprise…I succeeded; I managed to cut air as I felt the vacuum quickly fill up.

It was only then that I remembered that there really was no air…everything was shinsu.

Shinsu, the mysterious constant of the tower, was everywhere. It was the water, the air, magic, source of power, and essentially everything except flesh and blood…though there are exceptions. The denizens of the tower all had some form of control and authority over the shinsu to greatly varying degrees. Most would live out their lives never being granted the authority to manipulate shinsu by the administrator as never being chosen to climb the tower as a regular while others became gods of worship like my father…an understatement of their power if I ever heard one. I remember basking in the presence of my father and the exhilaration of realizing the possibility of gaining this much power, enough power to make even Zeus seem like nothing but a mere child.

As I began swinging my new toy more and more ferociously, a maid grabbed my little longsword with a smile before putting it away. Shame…it felt like I had finally found something that I liked.

So far, living life as the Arie family’s prized princess was easy…too easy. In an overly large and extravagant nursery (all to myself) on board the floating castle (more like floating city) that belonged to none other than father himself. I was assigned a dozen maids to care for me at all times…which was actually quite annoying since their collective oohs and aahhs would often wake me from my important nappy time.

As a baby, there was nothing to do. I woke up, I was fed, burped, napped, played, cuddled, fed, pooped, washed, and it was time to sleep again. Of this very lax schedule, my favorite would be cuddling with my mother.

Arie Aria; one of the many wives of Arie Hon, my biological mother, and currently my favorite person in the tower. She spoiled me to no end and shared story after story while I was in her arms, suckling on my little thumb.

This baby life may have been boring but I would be lying if I said I didn’t cherish every moment. Being created as an adult and sent directly into marriage on the night of my creation, I was still a child at heart. Just a child who knew, who experienced, who suffered too much.

“They say that there are stars at the very top of this tower. Wouldn’t you like to see them my little princess? Actual shining, twinkling, stars instead of the stars created by shinsu to illuminate our floor’s sky?” My mother shared softly as she gently rocked me. “Keep smiling like that little Pandora. Keep that smile, always”

I, who was falling asleep, could only make gurgling laughter as my eyelids drooped. My goal and hatred for the Olympians and their servants didn’t diminish one bit but for now…*yawn* as soon as I could move, I was going to go for their blood…but until then…just until then.

(AN: I am aware that the Empire has only been around for 10,000+ years, however in order to add the weight of divinity, power, and time I have AU(ed) the Empire of Jahad to 100,000 years. I hope readers can understand!)