《Rooms of the Desolate》The Forever Tower - Part 2
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Our steady, trudging ascent rarely saw interruption. The most interesting part of each day was when we reached the end of a floor and climbed the thirty cold stone steps up to the next one, only to there repeat the process all over again. In my younger years I had taken to counting the number of floors I passed in a day. I had even found a small, leatherbound diary and a beaten old metal pen to tally them up, and every time I settled down to sleep I’d compare them to the previous day and the numbers would be the same. Sixteen or so hours, five hundred floors, every day, for eternity.
Sometimes I had tried to walk faster, others slower, but somehow the count always came out the same, as though it were some law of the world like the dark below and light above, or the food that never ran out, or the songs in the walls that lulled you to stasis. Such a law itself beckoned to stay, for it made me wonder, was to linger behind the only way to change that five hundred into something else? To stop moving? To freeze?
There was no chance of that. I was few things, and weak of will was not among them. I had long since stopped keeping record in that diary because I knew that in the end it didn’t matter; in the end, I would keep going no matter how many floors there were and no matter how fast or slow I took them. How many years had I lived? Thirty? Thereabouts? How many floors had I seen in that time? All were the same, yet when I closed my eyes to slip into sleep, the darkness found me content and accomplished. I was going somewhere. I was going up.
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From time to time, the climb led me past the dead and dying. The elderly, too weak to carry on, collapsed by the wayside and were condemned to watch as the world passed them by. Sometimes their younger relatives stayed with them, but more often than not they had no one or those they did have simply abandoned them, too afraid to stop in case they never started again. There was plague in the Tower; hunger, hazard and strife; but the greatest killer of all was time. Where the mind held strong, as the years flew by like sand flowing to the bottom of an hourglass, the body weakened. In the end it didn’t matter how resolute you were, how fiercely you longed to keep going, keep ascending, break through the endless repetition and reach the light ― your muscles withered, your skin drooped, your bones ached, and your body failed. Time always has its due, in the end.
Then there were the skeletons; echoes of a person who had once been, who had put their life towards the climb the same as the rest of us, and ended up where? Here? By my feet as I moved to climb the steps to a new floor? Their skull was cracked, missing several teeth, and stared back at me with black, helpless eyes, and I wondered if the thing some people called a soul might be in there, still trapped in those dusty old bones. If all the reward for carrying on was to crumble away until only your brittle frame was left behind to remind those who passed them by that someone had once been there, but tell them nothing of who you were, then what really was the point of it all? When one skeleton could so easily be swapped for another and no one would know the difference, was there really anything left to suggest you had ever existed in the first place?
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As I reached the top of the stairs, my gaze fell on a sight I had seen only a handful times before. There were frozen here, so many of them, crouched in doorways, wrapped in blankets, coughing into their arms. That alone would have been a horror to look upon, to see so many souls imprisoned on a single floor, but the real danger, the danger to me, was plain to see on the boils peppering the face of the small frozen boy who raised his eyes to look up at me. I reached round to one of the pockets on my rucksack and pulled out a mask, placing it over my mouth and nose as the boy looked away again, his interest in me dissipating.
I had come upon a plague sector. There would be a dozen or so floors of it, each full to bursting with the infected. Though their symptoms could vary, they all carried the same ill; a pathogen that permeated the air and swam in their blood and tears and crawled just below their skin, begging them to reach out and touch, to cry for help, to spread its spores. Fortunately, they were slow and weak and mostly kept to the doorways and the rooms at the side, so it was easy enough to avoid them. Still, you had to be careful. If they touched you…
I came to a halt, faced with one of the nurses, who had been walking with her head down and almost collided with me. Taking a step back, I gave a small nod and edged around her, keeping my hands behind my back. The nurses had been touched, and now they stayed behind to help those more sickly than them in the knowledge that they would one day become just the same. I had never been quite clear on how quickly the plague progressed, how long it was before you could no longer help yourself and collapsed into one of the rooms to await a nurse of your own, but some part of me felt it was probably years. Nothing happened too quickly in the Tower. Nothing except that one moment, that one instant of horror you felt as your hand brushed ever so softly against the skin of the infected.
At least, that was how the dying old man I had once met far, far below had described it to me. I remembered that man’s face well, better than my own lost family’s. He had been so gaunt, his skin stretched so taught like tape across his face that I had thought even then he could only be days from becoming a skeleton himself. But he had talked to me in his frail, rasping voice; told me of the ails that befell him, of the fury he felt towards his legs as they refused to carry him any farther. But that had been years ago. I didn’t speak to the ill any more. I didn’t speak to any of the frozen. I heeded his words, his dying wish for me, a stranger with whom he had spent at most ten minutes.
I kept going up.
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Aevitas — I am not an NPC [R]
This story follows a 19-year-old male by the name of Tobias (Tobi) Donlan. Having found himself trapped in a Virtual Reality Game through no fault of his own, Tobi can only accept his circumstances and wait for the day he is released. As time passes in the Virtual world however, Tobi begins to take on a new look at life and begins to question his own sense of reality. As time continues to pass, Tobi finds that he cares less for reality and the more for Aevitas. When the day comes that he can return to the real world, will he even want to? Will he even have a choice? Follow Tobi as he experiences his second life inside Aevitas; a virtual reality game that claims anything is possible. Note: This story is, in part, based on another story by the same name and author. It is not, however, the same story and the original was discontinued due to various 'complications'. While marked with warning for profanity and sexual content, it is extremely mild, uncommon to the point of near-non-existence and lacks any detailed descriptions. In some cases it is litte more than inuendo's or vague references. Updates will be weekly: Saturday.
8 159An Id of Primal Chaos
TAG DISCLAIMER: The tags 'Portal Fantasy / isekai', 'High Fantasy', and 'Non-Human Lead' do not take place until later on in the novel. Probably mid-way through the first volume. The 'villainous lead' tag is a very loose tag. Some of the things the mc does can be considered villainous to those with a staunch moral code, however, I have not made the mc out to be overtly villainous. True Title: Advent of the Silent Storm (I came up with the original title a while ago, before I had even written a single chapter. It still kind of fits but this new title fits a lot better. I would change it but I don't know if it would screw up the recommendation algorithm.) Excerpt: My mind wanders through the soup of unconsciousness, still startlingly awake despite my physical form’s stasis. Electricity completely paralyzes the air around me and lightning flashes in a constant strobe of blinding light. The ground, thousands of feet below my being has been wiped clean of all manmade artifice and natural beauty; leveled, through absolute power. My power. Synopsis: Tetal Faelen, a very successful businessman with lofty goals, is introduced to an omniscient being through less than pleasant means. This being has an irresistible offer for Tetal with next to no downside. Tetal can’t help but wonder, “What’s the catch?” Additional Notes: Second novel I have started within the Web of Interconnected Realities. My other novel is not posted on this site so don't bother looking for it. I might post it here in the future.
8 210Of Misclicks and Magic
What happens when those given power of unimaginable proportions fulfill their objective and become without aim? Some may continue to use it wisely, but, more often than not, it is abused. In so many isekais (or fantasy stories in general), the protagonist remains a beacon of morality with the temptations of power seemingly non-existent.In the world of Luvitov, however, upon the demon king's demise, the heroes splintered and their intentions became warped with their new immortal lives. They engage in an endless power struggle for the only ones that can oppose them is each other.Here in this world of might and magic, a reincarnated man makes a small mistake, he accidentally skipped the skill and stats screen in the process of reincarnating. His stats are nothing but ones and has no innate skills or talents. He sits yearning for a life undetermined by others.If you have reached this point and are willing to put up with my garbage along with my inconstant uploading, then welcome and I hope that you find some enjoyment out of this, even if aimed at myself.
8 130Tyizor's Shorts (and Poems)
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8 152The Empress Livestream (1-201)
Jiang Pengji mendapatkan sesuatu yang disebut Sistem Intrik Pengadilan Stream.Sistem: "Tujuan Anda adalah menjadi wanita paling bergengsi di kerajaan (Ratu)!"Jiang Pengji: "Oke, Sistem. Tidak masalah!"Bertahun-tahun kemudian, dia memenuhi target dengan menjadi wanita paling bergengsi (Permaisuri).Jiang Pengji: "Bagus, kan?"Sistem: "Mengapa retas kamu berkelahi dengan kuda? Aku ingin intrik pengadilan di antara para wanita Raja!"Bagaimana seorang jenderal masa depan memenangkan tahta kunoPria-nya menonton dalam diam, Sistem menonton dengan air mata
8 116Melody of Time -Naruto-
My name is Harmony Kakureta Merodi and to say it simply; my life is screwed up. Just a couple of days ago I was on my way to fight in the war with my teammates/friends, but today, I'm some how a genin again, with a different squad, but that's not the kicker. My best friend, who just turns out to be the only person left on our squad that's alive, is now 13 years older than me! Fate must either really hate me or really love messing with my mind because along with that little fact and some other shit that happens later one I'm surprised I haven't gone insane yet! Well, isn't my life just lovely... Or filled with lovely madness.--------------------Completed, but still editing
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