[Welcome to the Silver Spire, Carrier Melvin.]
The sweet voice of the system rang in Melvin's ears, reminding him that it was still alive and kicking.
Then, standing at the front edge, before the marble-floor path ahead, Melvin took his time to discern his view. The truth, however, was that, unlike supposed, he wasn't seeing a complete view of a flight of stairs but a giant raised platform waiting for him to venture into.
That was the first step among the eight steps of the Silver Spire.
The aerial representation of the Silver Spire made it appear deceptively simple. Like an elegant, eight-step staircase forged from moon-bright silver, covered in a misty, ethereal flow of flux.
Within each step of the Spire is a vast, ruined magical world, folded inward upon itself like a shattered dream. Mythical creatures roam this inner world as survivors of a collapsed age.
It is also the roadmap to actualizing a long-time dream of humanity: the dream of finding out the truth about what had happened to their world and how their existence had come to be. Hence, it was believed that at the apex of this Silver Spire was an Obelisk, which bear the truth they all seek.
Good enough, humans also gained a fair share of the means to actualizing this dream: the flux carriers. All they needed to do was get themselves transported into the Spire to ascend the staircase and conquer each of them until they reached the apex.
And the barrier that had transported Melvin to this cursed land served as the gateway into the Spire. The ultimate goal of the climbers afterward became to find a means of return, and that was only made possible through Spatial Tears.
This was the truth that Principal Edrin had refused to tell him.
This was the stunning lady's knowledge of what they are tasked to do as Flux Carriers and Climbers.
This was the testament. The only clue that led to the truth about humanity.
'Curses.'
While reading novels, Melvin imagined these kinds of scenarios as fantasies that were never bound to happen. He saw them as spices added to the daily life of its readers and so never thought to get prepared should it become a reality.
But now, he was actually facing one of them.
He was going to be part of this unimaginable fantasy he dreaded in the past. Well, this would be his second time… but regardless.
Clenching his fist into a resolve, Melvin began to trudge the marble floor forward into the giant platform, each footstep producing echoes that vanished into the vast expanse of the cosmos.
Soon, he was standing before the gates etched into the giant platform. A colossal monolith rather than a doorway, forged from layered stone and blackened metal.
For a moment, confusion set in as Melvin didn't guess the right way he was supposed to open these gates. There was no lock, nor a gate handle… just a straightforward, vertical structure.
'Maybe it takes the same opening process of that barrier,' he surmised and began to step forward, looking around for any strange danger he might face before entering through the gates.
"System, come on out if you are with me," Melvin muttered, panic evident in his voice.
Finally answering his call, the system chimed, surfacing before him with an empty, translucent purple screen.
[ … ]
Satisfied, Melvin did what he thought he should do. "Do I have a status? Show me my status."
Following his command, the empty screen was displaced by another screen with a little information showcased on it.
[Name]: Melvin
[Origin]: —
[Rank]: Awakened
[Soul Signatures]: —
[Marks]: Luck
[Luck Definition]: You walk a path already marked by unseen hands. Coincidences bend toward you, disasters and miracles alike drawn by the same thread.
[Affinity]: —
[Affinity Description]: —
[Affinity Ability]: —
[Ability Description]: —
[Fragments]: —
Melvin speechlessly stared at his profile display before him. They were empty… for now, but his eyes lingered on a particular line—his mark.
He read the mark's definition again and again and silently wished to curse his existence. First, he had been infected by flux but didn't make it to awakening his affinity immediately.
Now, it was this same Luck that had brought upon him this formality notion that demanded him to pass through the trial zone… through the opening bastion before he awakened his affinity, unlike every other carriers.
Shutting his eyes to allow the weight of it to settle, Melvin extended his hands towards the gates and opened his eyes in the last moment.
The screen had disappeared without permission, and instinctively shifting his eyes suddenly upwards, he saw runes carved into the solid wall surface immediately above the gates. They didn't look like the normal texts Melvin should understand, yet he understood them regardless.
With his palm hovering some centimeters away from the gates, he murmured the letterings formed by the runes.
"Opening Bastion."
At that instant, the gates began to descend, simultaneously and gradually revealing the interior of the Bastion.
Pillars as wide as ancient trees rose toward a ceiling lost in shadow, their row creating a welcoming passage into what lies beyond a wall of celestial clouds at the far opposite end. On these pillars, lanterns were etched directly into them, unlit as if waiting for a light spur.
Breathing in, then giving out a deep exhale, Melvin began his approach into the mystery before him.
As he crossed each pillar, greenish flames began to flicker into the lanterns that looked unalive some seconds ago, simultaneously giving out dim glows across the ancient passageway of the bastion.
Then, after a long while of passing through the row of pillars, just some steps further, Melvin noticed a circular formation carved into the marble floors like a patchwork of cracked flagstones.
He halted and hesitated for a moment, thinking the formation to be some sort of trap. Finally, after making up his mind, he ventured forward and stopped just before the formation, hovering above it.
Only then did he realize it was not a trap but a pictorial ancient record carved into stone. The circular formation told a story, one that had unfolded within the Bastion long before it fell silent.
Seven statues stood etched within the ring, their forms solemn and unmoving, all facing a single altar at the circle's heart as though caught in an eternal act of worship.
Melvin drifted closer, then slowly circled the formation, studying the fine grooves and deliberate symmetry of the carving.
The altar itself rose upon a small platform, and atop it stood another statue. Resting upon the head of this statue was a clock.
'A clock? What is that supposed to mean?'
Melvin lingered on the picture before him, his thoughts churning as he tried to piece together the meaning behind the imagery, but clarity refused to come. Instead, something else caught his attention.
He noticed a thin, deliberate line carved into the marble floor, extending outward from the circle like a guide. With no better answers to cling to, he followed it deeper into the passageway, almost forgetting the wall of celestial clouds waiting for him mere steps further.
The line ended abruptly at another circular formation. Only this time, the representation of the formation was different.
The seven statues were no longer turned toward an altar; there was even no altar. They were turned toward one another, arranged in a perfect ring. Here, their features were clearer, more defined.
Each of the seven statues had horse-headed helms, and their bodies were compact and armored. They looked like the knights displayed on a chess, only these knights were raising both of their hands.
On their left hands, each knight bore an instrument of power: a whip, a sword, a spear, a bow, a war hammer, a staff, and a chain. And on the other right hands, they were holding seven distinct keys, one for each of them.
'What does this mean?' Melvin mused, trying to decipher the mystery behind these representations.
A step behind, by the right of the statues stood another carving, one for each statue. These carvings represented beings and creatures with less imposing stature, which looked more like the servants of these knight statues.
Melvin's eyes widened. His gaze followed further as he noticed something subtle yet deliberate.
From each servant, a carved line emerged, branching outward in intricate patterns that climbed the pillars relative to them, spiraling and ascending until they converged far above.
He looked up.
Suspended against the cloudy ceiling of the bastion was yet another formation, etched into drifting stone and mist. There was the altar from the first circle, and on its base were seven small linear openings, arranged horizontally.
There was still the statue atop the altar, only this time, Melvin discerned the structure to see what it looked like. It looked like a watchtower, with castle-shaped crowns evoking walls that formed a ring... trapping a clock in between.
'A rook?'
Understanding brushed against Melvin's mind as he began to connect the lines and pattern of what the representations on the formation were trying to say.
Lost in the moment, he didn't notice that the wall of clouds had suddenly dissolved into mist, streaming upward to join the suspended ceiling above.
As soon as these substances combined, the mist thickened and plunged downward without warning, swallowing Melvin whole before he could mutter a complete thought.
"What th—"
The world vanished into cold, rolling vapor, as if engulfing Melvin into whatever truth of the Bastion he had almost revealed moments ago.