I collapsed into a heap the moment we entered the cool air of the tower—or rather; the Citadel perched on top of it, as Felix had explained while I'd arduously hauled myself up those endless stairs. Meanwhile, Cassie and Felix had casually munched watermelon they'd snagged from the courtyard like this was a pleasant afternoon stroll.

  The buckets I'd been lugging—filled with heavy crab parts and, after some solid goading from Cassie, chunks of rubble she'd thrown in for good measure—hit the stone floor with a series of wet thuds and sharp cracks. The sound echoed through the space, announcing my defeat to anyone within earshot.

  Saying I was tired didn't come close. My entire body had simply decided, once again, that I'd reached my stairs quota for the day. Hell, maybe for the week.

  Several hunters scrambled over to help as I rolled onto my back, staring up at the massive mural stretched across the dome ceiling above. Intricate scenes of battles and creatures I couldn't identify swirled in painted chaos overhead—until Cass leaned into my field of view, blocking out a dramatic-looking sea-serpent to my left.

  "I didn't think you'd make it," she said, and I caught something like genuine respect in her expression. "You've got more guts than I gave you credit for. Definitely Striker material."

  Felix helped me to my feet, then had to catch me when my legs performed more like overcooked noodles than actual flesh and bone. The embarrassment stung, but not as much as my everything else.

  Several hunters began gathering up the scattered crab parts, shooting inquisitive looks at the chunks of brick and mortar strewn about like some kind of construction site explosion.

  "Breaker's training," Cass offered with a shrug.

  One Gaian man—built like a boulder with arms—gave a firm nod of approval that suggested he'd seen this particular brand of insanity before.

  Felix and Cass helped guide my wobbling form toward the massive desk positioned at the back of this level. What I saw there made me question whether exhaustion was making me hallucinate.

  The desk was staffed by what appeared to be several Garys. Not Gary-like people—actual Garys, each wearing different themed technicolor robes that looked like they'd been designed by someone having a fever dream about rainbow peacocks. Thick stage makeup covered their faces, with eyeshadow that swept dramatically from their cheeks all the way up to exaggerated, painted eyebrows. And the mustaches—each Gary sported a completely unique style, from handlebar curls to bristling walrus whiskers.

  They looked more like a theater troupe than the powerful spirit I was now fairly sure Gary actually was.

  "Afternoon, Gary!" Felix announced as we approached. “Is that room still free?”

  One of the Garys spun toward us, plastering on a smile so artificially pleasant it could've been painted on with the rest of his makeup.

  "It is, but Seeker Dorian is not pleased with your commandeering," Gary replied, his tone carrying just enough smugness to make it clear he was enjoying this.

  "I'd hope not," Felix said. "Fuck that guy."

  I blinked. This was possibly the first time I'd heard Felix actually flat-out curse. The venom in his voice caught me off guard.

  Cassie snickered. "There's the Felix I remember."

  "Indeed," Gary said smoothly, as if insulting this Dorian person was totally normal. "The rooms are on the twenty-first floor."

  "Is that measured from the top or the bottom?" I asked, hoping to glean anything about how this impossible tower actually worked.

  "Yes, that's correct," Gary said, completely shattering any logical sense I was trying to gather.

  "Don't try to wrap your head around it," Felix warned. "The more you try to understand it, the more Gary messes with you."

  I looked back at Gary, who smiled with a coy satisfaction that suggested he'd just won a game I didn't know we were playing.

  "I will ensure you arrive promptly," he said. "Please continue into the tower."

  My gaze turned toward the stairs leading up to the second level—where I'd entered the first time—and I sighed. Here we go again.

  Surprisingly, when I tested my legs as we left the desk, I felt significantly better. Not perfect—it still felt like I'd just hauled two hundred and fifty pounds up endless stairs in summer heat—but overall? Pretty damn good.

  By the time we reached the second floor, something inside me was starting to relax. Even the ache in my legs, while still present, was rapidly becoming manageable instead of the screaming protest it had been moments before.

  Felix seemed to notice me examining myself as we walked, testing my limbs like I was discovering them for the first time.

  “There’s a lot more mana inside the tower," he explained. "It's why people like to train here. Your body uses mana the same way it uses muscles, so you need to strengthen it." He paused, studying me with that analytical look I was getting used to. “My guess is that with how drained you were, all this new mana is pushing past anything your body had been used to… which, come to think of it, was probably nothing. Or close to it.”

  "So what you're saying is I've gained mana muscle?" I asked, incredulous.

  "Probably," Cass said. "Mana naturally reinforces the body, and the more of it you can hold—well, you've seen Chas throw a punch."

  "I've also seen more than one person get launched through solid stone in the last day," I said, laughing despite myself.

  "Happens a lot," Cass said with a shrug. "But yeah, like that."

  Now that I was focusing on it, I could feel it—that static sensation against my skin that I'd almost started ignoring. The air itself felt thicker here, charged with an energy that seemed to seep into my bones.

  .

  I definitely didn't feel like I'd be punching through stone blocks soon, but I felt... great. Even after climbing those stairs, when I should have collapsed from heatstroke, I wasn't even thirsty.

  I wouldn’t mind some watermelon, though.

  "Okay," I said as we descended into that strange arrival area. "So mana is a muscle, and the more I use it, the stronger I get?"

  "Up to a point, at least," Felix said. "By the time you're an Adept, you usually hit your physical limit. Somehow pushing past that is how you become a Master." His expression darkened slightly. "Mom won't tell me what's required, and last time I asked Nana, she gave me a textbook that made less than no sense. I'm pretty sure it was on purpose." He shifted into a perfect impression of Diana's clipped tone: "'Maybe you should fucking slow down and think about your Seal first.'"

  Cass and I both burst out laughing. "That sounds exactly like her," I said. "Does everyone call her Nana?"

  "Besides Felix, it's mostly those of us who grew up in the city," Cass explained as she led us up the Tower steps. "Sylvarus is the closest island to La-Roc, so she used to visit a . Even before Felix and Elena showed up. She's saved my ass at least a dozen times."

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  "Because she's a healer?" I asked, the pieces clicking together.

  Cass nodded. "Broken bones, cuts, bruises, stupid shit we did as kids—you know how it is. Add in monster attacks, and we get banged up constantly." She said it with the casual air of someone discussing the weather.

  "And healing medicine isn't free," Felix added with a grimace.

  "Yeah, when am I going to get some of those healing—"

  The hall next to us erupted into a chaotic swirl of purple and blue light, cutting off my question. The air crackled with energy, making the hair on my arms stand up.

  A man stepped out of the swirling mess, wearing a brown leather jacket and something approaching khaki pants. He had a bushy beard that made him look distinctly Gary-adjacent, but different enough to be noticeable.

  "Fuck me," he said, brushing sparkling dust of residual magic off his sleeves. "Twenty-one's being a little bitch today. I'll have to take you there myself."

  "Gary?" I asked, and he raised an eyebrow.

  "When I need to be," he said with a sly smirk that was pure Gary smugness. "I'm Garrick. You must mean my brother Garreth up front."

  "Ah, of course," I said, deadpan. "My mistake—the beard should have been an obvious tell."

  Garrick's mouth turned up in a slight smile that suggested he appreciated the sarcasm.

  "If y'all will follow me." He motioned toward the swirling portal with the casual confidence of someone who did this daily.

  I hesitated, my stomach doing a familiar flip. "I, uh, don't have a great history with portals..."

  Garrick raised a painted eyebrow at me, and suddenly his entire demeanor shifted. The casual facade dropped, replaced by something that felt ancient and powerful.

  "You're in my tower, Ben Crawford, and no harm will come to you if I have anything to say about it."

  The feeling of safety I'd experienced back with Elena and Lana suddenly radiated outward, cranked up to eleven before pulling back—like Garrick was making a point. The sensation was so intense it made my knees wobble.

  I shook my head to clear it. That was... intense. Like the tower itself wanted me to be safe and comfortable while I was here. Or was it Gary? Honestly, it didn't feel like there was much difference between the tower and its spirit.

  "Here," Garrick said, apparently noticing my discomfort. "Let's try this instead."

  He raised a finger, and the chaotic portal shrank down with a sound like air being sucked through a straw. It snapped into a perfectly ordinary door that materialized in the middle of the hallway like it had always belonged there. The door swung open with a gentle creak, revealing a similar hallway beyond—but brighter, with comfortable seating and deep red carpet that looked like it came from my room in Doreen’s.

  "Thanks, Gary—Garrick. That looks much more manageable," I said, starting forward.

  This time, though, Cass and Felix gawked at the door just standing in the middle of the hallway, defying every law of physics I'd ever learned.

  "Gaia's tits, how is that better? It hurts my head," Cass said, shuddering as she stared at the impossible sight.

  Felix circled around the door like he was examining some kind of dangerous artifact. "Ah! You can't even see it from behind," he said, looking almost queasy. "At least put it against a wall so it makes sense."

  Garrick shot me an approving look. "I want to see if the Breaker here will walk through it as it is."

  I blinked at him, studying the magical door floating in front of me. Honestly? It looked exactly like what I'd expect a magic door to look like—which was apparently the problem for everyone else.

  Shrugging, I stepped forward. Walking through the threshold felt like stepping through a gentle stream of water, cool and tingly against my skin, but otherwise it seemed like... just a door.

  "Cool," I said, glancing back only to see a populated hallway full of people and no door in sight. My head spun for a second before I settled on 'magical one-way door' and moved on.

  A moment later, a door further up the hall opened, and Felix stepped through, followed by Cass. Both looked slightly green.

  I jogged over to meet them, and Felix shot me a look that mixed admiration with concern.

  "You're crazy, man. Talk about a guinea pig... definitely Arcanist material."

  "I need to know more about what these groups actually are," I said with a laugh. "I feel like I'm being recruited into something I don't understand."

  "Of course, it's the nepotism duo."

  The voice cut through our conversation like a blade. We turned to see a dark-haired Gaian man flanked by two others—one with short-cropped hair and a stocky build, the other sporting what I swear was an actual pageboy haircut.

  The leader sneered and stepped toward us. "Are you the reason we've been kicked out of our meditation room?" His gaze shifted to me, and his sneer deepened. "And who is this? That Terran everyone's talking about today? So the nepotism trio, then."

  Wow, people already knew about me? Diana's gossip network could've given social media a run for its money. The guy had similar angular features to Marco but was clearly much younger—maybe a relative? He had long black hair swept dramatically back and wore black robes that probably cost more than most people's monthly income. His two lackeys chuckled in practiced support.

  Cass jutted a thumb toward me, her stance shifting into something that screamed danger. "Acolyte? Maybe Breaker? Ben's shits get more priority than your sorry ass, Dorian." She took a deliberate step forward, and all three of them backed up in unison.

  "I've earned my strength, shit-stain. Call it nepotism one more time, and we'll see who wins in a fight. You may be a Seeker, but you won't even see me coming. Your daddy can't help you in the dueling ring."

  "My father

  his position, Cassandra ," he spat, her name dripping with venom.

  There was a lot to unpack there. Cass had one hell of a temper—which honestly wasn't a big surprise. But the angular-faced kid with long black hair, dramatic black robes, and a permanent scowl was named Dorian fucking Graves? He even looked like he'd stepped out of an Oscar Wilde novel. Someone had to be messing with me.

  I laughed. I couldn't help it—the whole situation was so absurdly perfect that my brain just gave up trying to process it seriously. The tension in the hallway shifted as all eyes turned to me.

  "Sorry, I needed that. Thank you, Dorian. Never change your hair," I said, walking around Cass to position myself between them. The last thing I needed was a magical hallway brawl on my first day. "I'm Ben Crawford," I added, sticking my hand out to shake.

  "I know," Dorian replied with a scoff that sounded practiced.

  "I’m getting that a lot lately," I said with a smile, lowering my hand. The kid scoffed again—exactly like the last one, like it was programmed into him. I'd bet this guy was a real joy at parties.

  "The Breaker?" Pageboy Haircut spoke up, giving me a slight nod that seemed almost respectful. "Let's go, Dorian. He's earned it."

  "Fine. It's been a long day. We have better places to be," Dorian said, spinning on his heel. His cape—and yes, he actually had a cape—billowed dramatically with the movement.

  It was absolutely hilarious.

  As the trio swept away in a cloud of theatrical black fabric, Cass stared at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. There was something between gratitude and frustration in her eyes.

  "Come on, those guys are just idiots," Felix said, sliding open a door to what looked like a sitting room. "They've been poking at Cass for months. They're a nightmare to work with on jobs if you get paired up with any of those three."

  The room was much smaller than the one we'd been in yesterday, but it was still large enough to hold pretty much every rest-surface imaginable. Meditation mats sprawled across the polished floor, oversized chairs that could swallow a person whole, plush couches that looked like clouds, and even a long chaise-style lounge that screamed 'nap time.' The air practically hummed with mana.

  Why couldn't I just stay here instead of in a storage room at Doreen’s? This place felt like a luxury spa designed by someone who actually understood comfort.

  Felix closed the door behind us, and when I glanced back, there was no longer a door. Just solid wall.

  He noticed my double-take and nodded. "Oh, we can leave whenever we want. It's just so no one can bother us during your initiation." He demonstrated by placing his hand against the wall, and a door shimmered back into existence like a mirage resolving into reality. When he took his hand away, the door vanished again.

  "Do not disturb, huh?" I said.

  He shrugged. "Something like that."

  We settled onto a cluster of couches in the center of the space, and I noticed gentle music drifting from... somewhere. It was the kind of ambient sound that made you want to close your eyes and forget the world existed.

  "So, Mana," Felix began as he sat across from me. "It's the fundamental energy that exists in all living things. It hardens the body and connects to your soul. Your soul, in turn, uses it to manifest your understanding of concepts as runes. Does that make sense?"

  "No?" I said, eyebrows climbing toward my hairline. "I just found out souls were actually real yesterday."

  "Right…" Felix replied, looking genuinely perplexed about how to proceed.

  Cassie snickered, breaking out of her quiet pondering.

  "What?" I said, probably looking exactly as lost as I felt.

  She seemed to register my genuine bewilderment and softened slightly. "Damn, Felix, that's a lot to dump on him at once." She turned to me. "Right now, Ben, you're using mana instinctively. To actually control it, you'll need to find that spot in your mind where the mana flows. The gateway."

  "...To my soul," I said slowly, trying to wrap my head around the concept.

  "Something like that," Felix agreed. "You have to give your mana purpose by opening a line of communication with your soul—like agreeing on a path toward your Seal. If it doesn't work out, you can always learn something else and try again."

  I blinked. "I need to... somehow ask my soul if it likes Bravery and wants to help me with magic?"

  "Yeah, that," Cass said, nodding like this was perfectly reasonable. "It's easier than it sounds, and you won't actually be talking to it. More of a feeling. Like... intuition, but deeper."

  I took a deep breath and flopped back onto the plush couch, sinking into cushions that felt like they were, in fact, even more comfortable than they looked. My mind wandered to everything that had brought me here—the mysterious death dome, at least two different portals, and deciding to trust people I'd just met.

  .

  That fucking word again.

  "Alright," I said, looking between them. "What do I do?"