“Bark is the Reflection of the Soul,” the Bonsai suddenly thunders. Its voice is a deep baritone that rattles our ribcages.
The lemur leaps from the pedestal with a dancer’s grace, landing right at Kim’s feet. He snatches her hand before she can react and plants a kiss on it with suave distinction.
“O wonderful sentry of hearts! I am the assistant to the Eminent Great Pocket Oak you see there. My Master says your beauty is a lighthouse in the night of our boredom. He says it transcends the boundaries of reality, and that he would be ready to lose all his leaves just to see you smile once. As for me… you are the reason it was a good idea to wake up this morning.”
Kim stares at him the way you look at a grease stain on a brand-new shirt. She tries to yank her hand back, but he clings to it. Chris stifles a nervous laugh.
“Is he… hitting on her?”
I cross my arms, watching the scene with equal parts awkwardness and amusement. “Worse. He’s doing inter-species flirting. Pretty brave, considering she’s got a gun.”
“Bark is the Reflection of the Soul,” the Bonsai thunders again.
The Assistant jumps, dropping Kim’s hand—which she immediately wipes on her pants—and snaps to attention. “Yes, Master! Right away, Master!”
He turns to us, putting on a fake professional air, though his eyes keep drifting down to Kim’s legs. “Ahem. Please forgive this sudden outburst. My Master, the Eminent Great Pocket Oak you see there, is the true Guide of this tier. I am only his voice. His humble translator.”
“Bark is the Reflection of the Soul,” the Bonsai repeats in a tender voice.
The Assistant takes a deep breath and declaims with heavy emphasis. “The Master has just declared: ‘Welcome, travelers of the stars, to the sanctuary of creation. Know that true power does not reside in cold steel, but in the will of the one who forges it. As the root seeks water in the darkness of the earth, you must seek the light of knowledge to transcend your mortal condition and touch the eternity of divine craftsmanship.’”
Silence fills the room. Chris and I stare at the tiny tree that literally just repeated the same six words.
“Wait…” I say. “He said all that? Just with the line about the bark? What kind of language is this? A vocal ZIP file? The compression rate is insane.”
The Assistant puffs up, dusts off his tweed vest, and shoots me a contemptuous glare. “It is Ancient Sylvan, Garbage Man. It is a language of concepts. A single vibration of its leaves contains more wisdom than your entire brain! You cannot understand. You are too… human.”
“Bark is the Reflection of the Soul,” the Bonsai repeats, its leaves quivering slightly.
The Assistant nods gravely. “Anyway!” he resumes. “The Master says: ‘In accordance with the Ascension Aid protocols, we are here to deliver the major lesson of this floor. Knowledge is Power, mortals. And today, we are going to talk about Crafting Professions.’”
I raise an eyebrow. “Let me guess. I’m going to have to pass a trade exam in Magical Waste Sorting?”
“If only it were that simple, Garbage Man,” the Assistant sneers. “The Master explains that the System has introduced specializations: Blacksmith, Alchemist, Rune Master, Scribe… There are thousands of them. But beware!” He raises a clawed finger. “You can only choose one. And this choice is final.”
“Bark is the Reflection of the Soul,” the tree rumbles.
“Exactly, Master!” the Assistant translates with fervor. “He specifies that obtaining a profession is an obstacle course. You do not simply click a button. You must pass an Affinity Exam with a Teacher.”
“An exam?” Chris asks, suddenly nervous. “We don’t just pick what we want?”
“Oh no, little porter,” the Assistant replies. “If the Teacher judges that you possess the talent of a brick, you will be rejected. And if you succeed, you will only obtain the title of Apprentice. It is only after years of practice, failure, and sweat that you can hope to become a true One-Star Master.”
“Bark is the Reflection of the Soul.”
“The Master stresses the difficulty!” the lemur continues. “Professions are ranked from one to seven Stars. It is work, sweat, and failure! Even the Divinities who sponsor you struggle to reach Rank Six.” He drops his voice theatrically. “As for Rank Seven… That is the legend. A craftsman of this rank is the most coveted being in the universe. He creates items that can even bend reality.”
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I let out a sigh. “Great. At forty years old, I’m going to end up sitting on a little stool wearing an apron, getting yelled at by a moody teacher because I didn’t polish my rock the right way. I can already picture my evaluation interview with a dragon. ‘Sorry Ben, your magic welding lacks passion. Rejected!’ It’s just wonderful.”
The Assistant shoots me a dark look, then winks at Kim. “For you, my beauty, I am sure you possess the hands of a fairy. I could give you private lessons in… shaft polishing?”
Kim racks her rifle and aims it right between the lemur’s eyes. “One more word, and I’ll turn you into a keychain.”
“Bark is the Reflection of the Soul!” the Bonsai intervenes, much louder this time.
“The Master says: ‘Shut up, you pervert,’” the Assistant translates hurriedly, ducking behind the flower pot.
I look around, searching for workbenches or anvils. “Okay. So where are these teachers? Behind the bookshelves? I have to take a midterm right here?”
The Assistant sneers, adjusting his monocle. “Here? No, you unfortunate soul! Here is a rest area, not a training center! The Teachers are on Earth.”
“On Earth?” I repeat.
“Yes. When the Tower Scenario is finished and Phase One, The Wild Earth, begins, Master Craftsmen will appear everywhere. It will be up to you to find them.”
He raises a clawed finger to drive the point home. “But listen closely. Choosing a profession is mandatory. A Career Quest will trigger automatically. You must choose a path: Blacksmith, Alchemist, Enchanter…”
“That sounds awesome!” Chris says with pure enthusiasm. “I could be a Blacksmith and fix my own armor!”
The Assistant shoots him a look full of pity. “Beware of appearances, naive young one. Some professions are traps. It is very easy to become an Apprentice. Any idiot can hit hot iron. But to become a true One-Star Master? It is hell.”
He leans in, whispering as if revealing a state secret. “Most people remain Apprentices all their lives because they do not have the talent. And worse… some Teachers are tyrants. Their student becomes free labor.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Perfect. So basically, we’re going to have to apply for unpaid internships, get exploited by bitter old wizards, with zero guarantee of a promotion?”
“Bark is the Reflection of the Soul,” the Bonsai confirms.
“The Master says: ‘Exactly, Garbage Man. Welcome to the magical job market.’”
I sigh. “Even in another dimension, capitalism catches up to us. Depressing. Anyway, chat’s over. We’ve got 95 floors left to climb if we want to avoid the unemployment line.”
The Bonsai quivers, its silver leaves chiming like tiny bells. “Goodbye, humans. And good luck with your exams.”
The voice is still a deep baritone, but this time… it’s in plain English. Perfectly intelligible. The three of us freeze, eyes wide open.
“Wait…” Chris stammers, pointing at the tree. “He… he speaks our language?”
I whip around to glare at the Assistant. “You fed us that whole line of crap about ‘Ancient Sylvan’ and a ‘language of concepts’ when he can talk normally?!”
The Assistant shrugs, adjusting his monocle with a haughty sneer. “Of course he does, you fool. He is a Millennial Sage who has seen civilizations rise and fall. He speaks thousands of languages, including your barbaric dialect.”
“Then why were you translating?!” Kim snaps.
“Because His Verdant Majesty is too lazy to stoop to your syntactic level,” he replies with a smirk. “And because I enjoy hearing myself speak. It was a privilege I offered you.”
Before I can strangle the lemur with his own tail, they both start to glow. “Our work is finished here. Knowledge has been transmitted. Farewell!” the Bonsai declares.
With a loud pop, the pedestal empties, leaving behind nothing but a cloud of silver glitter and our mounting frustration. I rub my face. “They’re trolling us right to the end. Come on, let’s move.”
“Wait… Uncle Ben…” Chris’s voice trembles with pure disbelief. He has his nose pressed right up against his interface. “Look at the ranking…”
I glance over his shoulder, expecting we lost a few spots during our little chat with the flora and fauna. What I see hits me like a punch to the gut.
[TOWER RANKINGS]
- Current Position: 3,050,445,204th
- Time Remaining: 23 Days
- Status: ELIMINATION ZONE
The words stop us dead. The news freezes us in place, turning us into stone statues right in the middle of the room. Kim walks over, checks her own screen, and turns pale.
“Three billion?” she chokes out. “We were at 900 million when we got here! We lost over two billion places?!”
“It’s impossible…” Chris whispers. “We were fast! We one-shot the Hidden Boss!”
I grit my teeth, my brain spinning at top speed. I look up at the ceiling, as if I could see through to the floors above. “It’s the Arthur effect,” I say calmly.
“The what?” Chris asks.
“The ‘Hero of the Sun.’ Before the System muted him, he had time to drop the walkthrough for floors 2, 3, and 4 in the global chat. ‘Don’t run in the grass,’ ‘Keep moving in the dark,’ ‘Let the whale eat you.’” I shrug, bearing no actual animosity. “While we were running the ‘Perfectionist’s Path,’ the rest of humanity just followed Arthur’s travel guide. They stopped dying stupidly and rushed the floors in a straight line. That’s why there are three billion people ahead of us. They’re weaker, but they took the shortcut.”
Kim racks her rifle, her eyes glowing with a dangerous light. “So we’re the strongest… but we’re dead last. If the timer hits zero right now, we get erased with the losers.”
“Exactly. We’ve got the firepower of an aircraft carrier, but we’re lagging behind inflatable rafts paddling at top speed.”
I turn toward the spiral staircase leading up to the next floor. There’s no room left for hesitation.
“We’re changing the pace,” I order. “No more sightseeing and hidden levels. We’ve got impenetrable armor, a divine sniper, and a magical garbage man. We don’t stop anymore. We don’t sleep anymore. We’re going to climb this leaderboard like a rocket and bulldoze past everyone in front of us.”
Chris bashes his shield, his face hardened with absolute determination. “For Mom.”
“For survival,” Kim corrects.
“To show them who the real bosses are,” I conclude.
We rush the stairs, taking the steps four at a time. Fatigue ceases to exist, completely wiped out by the sheer urgency of survival. We reach the massive door to Floor 6. It’s made of dark, neutral metal. I grab the handle and shove it open with everything I’ve got.
The door swings wide open to the unknown. And what we see on the other side instantly steals the breath right out of our lungs.
“Oh… hell…”