In this world, towers exist, it's purpose? Unknown but theories and hypotheses have already reached three digits. And as humans defend it, they say it's curiosity or "for the betterment of earth" and so on. They kept prodding on the history and purpose of towers and why humanity is given access to such horrifying but beautiful structures.
Some say it's because the gods or constellations and whatnot have decided to use humans as entertainment for their boring lives.
Some say that the towers serve as trials for humankind because the end or destruction of the earth is coming and the deities took pity on the poor souls of earth.
While some other irrational ones say that it is simply an illusion and the towers aren't actually real and everybody on earth is hypnotized by some crazy villain, forever trapping humanity in a simulation while the "chosen" ones roam the real world freely with nobody stopping them.
All of these theories sound insane and unrealistic.
But at the same time, they all sound true. So true.
That's the reason why many join such groups that focus on a certain hypothesis or two. They want to either know the truth about the towers or find valuable information that could lead them to the secret of human evolution, as they say.
It was either the latter or the former.
I, on the other hand, don't belong in the two. Because why? As for one, I don't care about how or why the towers are here as I only care about one thing. Magic law. Two, I may or may not already know the answer to these questions. Not that I believe that what I found is true because of how laughable it was but It was all purely accidental when I stumbled upon a chamber beneath a tower.
I didn't plan this. No one did. Not even the gods or constellations above. Not even the damn system that connects the towers.
After all, this story isn't part of a grand scheme of some all-mighty being. It's a story of how coincidence is a rather dangerous thing to encounter.
A story about how I, the great Ambrose Campbell, rose from being the lo–
Bang!
"Abi! Where were you!?"
"Ah! shit you scared me–"
The boy sitting in front of a study table was in peace until a woman in heels barged into his room. He cursed, his voice barely a whisper but it was heard clearly by the woman.
Clack Clack–
The woman paced into the room in a rushed manner as she grabbed the boy by the hair, yanking him with her exceptional strength.
"You thought you were slick ay'?"
She spoke lowly as the boy avoided her amber glare.
He scratched his neck in embarrassment as he slowly whispered.
"I. I'm sorry. I lost track o– wait, wait, wait!"
The woman pinched his side with her free hands, ultimately tickling him.
"Wai–hahaha– wait ow ow–"
He laughed as he tried freeing himself from this torture, but it was all in vain because the woman was stronger than him.
After a few minutes that felt like an eternity, she finally dropped him to his chair. She sighed as she fixed her rather colored hair that was ruined because of the boy.
"Care to explain why I was alone in that cafe waiting for your ass to show up for over an hour?"
She asked, annoyed; she glanced at the table and sighed softly. There, she saw numerous drawings of towers, characters, and many more writings with almost unreadable fonts. From afar, they would look like random scribbles from a mentally ill patient. Well, considering that her brother is already acting like one, all that is needed is a prescription from a professional doctor.
She turned her gaze away from the messy table and onto her little brother's little frame. She glared harder until he finally looked up.
"Well. I was. I was a bit busy. You see, I'm already in the world-building phase, I just need more time to finish this, and I can finally– ow ow ow! Wait!"
She pinched his ears hard. She was already annoyed, and he was doing nothing but putting gasoline in the fire.
"You kept babbling all of these things Ambrose! You kept saying that you want to finish this. Novel! Let me ask you this. How can you finish something that doesn't have any plot? Answer me, Ambrose. What's a story without a plot, hmm? This cannot become a novel, book, or whatever when even you're not clear with the ending or even the beginning!"
She talked as her voice grew louder and louder. The boy, Ambrose flushed in embarrassment as he looked down. Tears threatened to spill from his dull eyes.
"But–"
"No buts Ambrose. You have to stop this obsession with towers. You have to stop idolizing–"
She grabbed a lone piece of paper with a sketch of a man holding a sword. Words of description about the man were written beside his body. She crumpled it slightly as she waved it around.
"This! He is not real. Stop fangirling this fictional character you made. It's not healthy for you to be this obsessive with the end or whatnot."
"But- But they're real. "
He refuted back as kept looking down, not daring to look at his sister. He doesn't want to see her disappointment.
"Haaah–"
He flinched when he heard his sister sigh again for the third time.
"Abi. Look at me"
His sister called out softly as she let his poor ears go. She then caressed his cheeks softly.
"I'm not saying that you should stop your writing career; I mean, it's good now that you have a very deep passion about something unlike in the past, but."
She sighed again but this time, more gentle and soft. She glanced back at the drawings and writings on the table. She then slowly looked up at the walls of the room. There, multiple papers with drawings of characters, towers, and multiple sceneries are pasted on the wall. Writings that look like doodles from a kid or two also accompany the said sketches.
In fact, the very moment she entered this room, she had ignored the state the room was in. She ignored how the bed was neatly styled and arranged but the floor wasn't. It seemed like Ambrose was sleeping on the floor again.
She ignored how the candles were arranged near the bed. A circle. As if someone wants to summon the devil or some spirit. She also ignored that the ceiling was also used as a canvas by her brother. Multiple circles within circles are drawn, some with writings that she couldn't read.
And let's not ignore the fact earlier that the walls were also not spared by the enormous imagination of her little brother.
She looked at Ambrose again as she cupped his tiny face into her hands.
"I'm worried for you, Abi; I'm saying this as your sister and friend; you can't keep obsessing over your characters. You can't keep thinking that they are real. That the towers or whatever are real. I.."
She paused and hesitated as she bit her lip slightly.
"Look Abi, I know that you are alone at school and have no one to talk to, which is wrong because I'm here. You may not have friends at school but you have me! Your amazing big sister!"
She said with the pride of a peacock as she put her hands on her waist.
Ambrose smiled as he laughed. She smiled softly as they laughed together, melting the once-cold atmosphere.
She eased her laughter as she patted her little brother, feeling his soft black locks against her palm, and her smile widened. She compared his pure black hair to her colored ones.
Unlike her brother, she had bleached her hair back when she was nineteen, coloring it with different shades of pink. While others mocked her for picking a very vibrant color, she was still proud of it, not caring for their opinion.
Her little brother was the opposite; he cared for what others said, and he was timid. They were what they called "two sides of a coin" or whatever that phrase was. While she was vibrant and very outspoken about her thoughts, he, on the other hand, was quiet and rarely spoke to anyone outside his circle–she was in his circle obviously– and in short, she was extroverted while he was an introvert down to his core.
Nonetheless, she loved her little brother dearly. She would burn the world for him, her last remaining family.
Ambrose looked at his sister who was thinking while having her signature warm smile on her face. He looked down while scratching his cheeks.
"I. I promise I'll try to.. to stop. I just need more time till I uhm.. finish the last tower."
He spoke In a soft voice as his sister laughed at him softly. Continuing to pat his head, she spoke cheerfully but seriously.
"Take as much time as you need; as long as you stop obsessing with your characters, you can still continue your world-building or whatever, m'kay? "
He smiled sheepishly as he nodded.
"Yes, I won't let you be worried again Na–"
Boomm!
That was my last memory of my sister who died 7 years ago.
She died because of the calamity of trials that appeared.
The same calamity that was pasted on my wall back then.
The same calamity I think I created. The stupid trial for humanity that I worked on the hardest.
The Trials of Ruin: The First Calamity