novelzi [349] 4.70 Final Flight I
[349] 4.70 Final Flight I
It’s Saturday. A week of relative calm and tranquility has done a lot to ease my weary mind and body after all the strain I’ve put both through over these past three weeks. I’ve only had the one session with Samantha, and a lot of that was spent with drivel and paperwork, but already I feel a little bit brighter, that maybe I don’t have to do all of this all by myself.But, as I keep reminding myself, there are still things only I can do, and in preparation for those days, Chloe and I have decided that today is as good as any to tackle that final challenge that awaits us. A bonus flight within the basement of the Tower Gauntlet, one which revealed itself to us only after clearing the main fifty floors and overcoming the terrifying final trial which appeared at the top.
As sunset rises out along the eastern horizon, I turn my attention inward and focus on the rhythmic flow of my [Ether] through my body. It ebbs and flows alongside the beating of my heart, filling my body with strength and warmth in equal measure. I allow myself to be taken completely, abandoning my perception of the outside world and concentrating on the millions of droplets of energy that make up my being.
This was one of the first techniques that Samantha and I developed to help me ground myself when the traditional methods of focusing on identifying external stimuli are insufficient. I am the flow, I tell myself, and the flow is me. Flexible and inexorable, sometimes bending and twisting in response to the storm, but never breaking.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Chloe asks, though it takes me a second to register her presence. She wraps her arms around my waist from behind. “Any better than yesterday?”
“A little bit, yes. What about you? How have you been holding up this past week?”
“I won’t lie, love. It’s difficult. I’m scared. Scared about Mom and Dad. Scared about the city, scared for the Tower. I’m terrified about fighting Renault and his Seraphina, and it feels like the specter of death is constantly over the both of us.”
“The specter of death? Do you– Does your class have–”
“Nothing like that, Sera. Just that it’s frightening, knowing that there’s always a chance that one of us could–” Chloe starts crying, clutching onto my waist.
We make our way back to bed and just hold each other for a few minutes. Chloe whimpers. Meanwhile, I summon some tissues and use the [Crimson Heart] to channel [Fire]-aligned [Ether] through my channels and warm Chloe with a gentle din. It seems to help; she gradually regains her calm, though her grip on me only grows stronger and tighter, something I don’t mind in the slightest.
“I’m here for you, Chloe,” I say. “And I always will be. Together forever, for as long as you’ll have me.”
Chloe’s mood shifts and her eyes narrow. “What kind of bullshit is that? ‘For as long as I’ll have you’? I thought I’ve told you over and over again that I love you, I’m in love with you, and I’m going to stay by your side through hell and high water!”
“Thank you, Chloe.”
“Of course, Sera.”
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask, though, if you don’t mind.” At Chloe’s nonverbal assent, I continue. “How do you handle all the stress? I’m sure it can’t be any easier for you than it is for me.”
“I thought I mentioned that I’ve been seeing someone at least once a week since we got back and I started working at the hospital. It’s not required or anything, but with all the secondary trauma we get, seeing so much death and disease, it’s highly recommended.”
“Just that? I know you’d mentioned it before, but I figured you had something else.”
“Well, I have you, Sera. I know you’re here for me, whenever I need. And I try not to focus too much on the cosmic picture right now. Because let me guess, Seraphina, love of my life. You probably allow yourself to constantly worry about what’s going to happen in a week, a month, a year, in a hundred years and ten thousand years and how it’s your responsibility to do it all, all by yourself, without anyone else to so much as lend a hand to assist. Or am I wrong?”
“You’re right, Chloe. As you usually are.”
“And here I was expecting a ‘But Chloe’.”
“You made it quite clear that if I give any more ‘But Chloe’s, I’ll be sleeping on the couch for the rest of the year.”
“Of course that wouldn’t be the case, Sera. What sort of a girl do you take me for?”
“The kind of girl who is going to remain adamant about me taking care of my health, even when I do stupid stuff because I feel it necessary and don’t see another path forward.”
Chloe’s look turns incredulous. “I mean, why would I punish myself because you decide to push yourself past your limits. Obviously, if I were to go down that path, wouldn’t I put you under curfew and then have my way with you all night long?”
I can only chuckle nervously. I’m in so much danger. “Point made and no refutation offered. So then, are we still on for today, or are we changing plans?”
“No, I agreed to this, and I think your body is healthy enough after this past week. But please, for both of our sakes’, try to limit the use of your dimensional magic. I can’t guarantee that your body will hold up if you use it for more than very brief periods.”
“If at all possible.” I’m sure my words aren’t convincing, despite the sincerity behind them. Because we both know that the challenges which lie within almost certainly will demand that we push ourselves up to and past our limits, and that means once again throwing my body through the ringer and hopefully coming back alive on the other side.
“Very well. I’ll hold you to it.” Chloe floats up out of bed and, in a blink and a flash of golden light, dons all her armor.
I follow suit. “Let’s make haste.”
There are a surprisingly large number of people waiting in line to take on the Tower Gauntlet; at least the first flight or two, anyway. I count about three dozen people ahead of us and another fifteen or so behind, though I don’t know if all of these people intend to challenge the tower. Or maybe some will chicken out after having to sign the military-mandated documentation and disclosure forms, including the part where they have to acknowledge that yes, it’s clear the dungeon flight or die, no take-backs.
The line moseys along at its own pace, but after about half an hour, we find our way past the imposing double door leading to the entrance to the gauntlet. Despite the imposing main entrance and the even more imposing sentries keeping watch of who’s going in and out, a few people still do pass through the massive portal and then disappear to wherever the first flight takes them.
“Seraphina?” a familiar voice says. “Is that you? What are you doing here?”
“Hey, Alana,” I say to the tall and muscular blonde. “I’d say long time, no see, but it’s only been a couple of weeks. Feels like it’s been months with how much shit has happened between then and now.”
“I heard about some of what’s happened,” she says, her tone morose. “I offer my condolences. And, when the time comes, I’ll help out.” I know what she means, referring to the battle for the fate of the country and maybe the planet. But for the sake of operational security, we don’t say it flat out.
“Thank you.”
“By the way,” Chloe chimes in. “I thought you had gotten promoted to captain and were being promoted to additional responsibilities.”
“Oh, I got promoted, alright,” Alana says. “But I guess the two of you weren’t working with the military long enough, or during enough periods of relative peace, to realize that there are two essential maxims about working in the armed services. First, ninety percent of everything you do is to hurry up and wait. And secondly, if it wasn’t documented in triplicate, it didn’t happen.”
“Don’t I know that last one!” Chloe says.
“Yeah, I suppose you do. Anyway, I assume you’re here for business, not just idle chitchat.”
“We are,” I say. “Something about a bonus flight with extra challenges for us. Figured now was the time. Before all the world’s shit finally catches back up with us.”
“As though it’s ever really stopped. Anyway, I wish you good luck,” Alana says.
“Wait a minute,” a woman with violet eyes asks. “Why don’t they need to fill anything out?”
“Two reasons,” Alana says. “First, they already did on their first–”
“Second,” I sheepishly admit.
“Alright, second visit into the Tower, and we have their documentation on file. And secondly, and more importantly, each of them is strong enough that I couldn’t force them to do so even if I were ordered to do so. So, whenever you reach Level… 70–”
I grin. If only Alana knew that I’m closer to 80 by now. Not that I’m entirely mentally healthy after everything that I’ve had to go through. One therapy session is far from magic, just a little extra support to process the difficulties.
“Anyway, yes, once you have gotten to that point, you will be immune from filling out these forms. Until you are, though, you are going to go along with the established protocol, or I will throw you out.”
“And if I say no?” she asks, rage bubbling from within her.
Alana steps forward. “Miss, I have had to deal with two demons in the past three weeks and I have more than enough lingering rage to go around. So you can deal with the paperwork or you can deal with these hands. I’m authorized to use every level of force short of lethal, so go ahead. Make my day.”
The woman grumbles at the preferential treatment, but it really is for her own good. She’s going to have serious problems, to say the very least, if she doesn’t even realize the nature of the dungeon and the fact that she won’t be able to just waltz out like she could with other dungeons throughout the land. I like to think of it as an opportunity to do one last double check of supplies, weapons, and so forth. And I do. Everything looks good to go.
Rather than go through the main gate as most of the people here are, we step into the cylindrical teleporter device off to the side. I wince internally, classical conditioning serving up the symptoms of dimensional sickness in advance of the jump. But given that this is transportation being facilitated via the System via the dungeon interface, I’ll be okay. Probably. I hope. I’m going to ask for some prophylactic healing.
As before, we’re giving a list of floors from which we can begin, corresponding to the teleporter rooms we’ve reached. Floors 7, 15, 22, 31, and 41. But now, there’s one other option that appears. Floor B1. I guess the basement of the Tower, descending into hell rather than ascending toward the heavens. Maybe, having fought a goddess at the top of the tower, we’ll have to do battle with a demon lord at the bottom. I’m excited at the prospect, and considering my class: [Defier of Fates], it’s not hard to imagine the potential influence.
Floor B1 it is. Chloe’s hand latches onto my metallic left hand, which is just as warm as the rest of my body. I take a breath and focus inward for a brief moment to distract myself from the twisting reality as the entrance chamber fades away, replaced by a lush sea of green, not at all what I’d expected.
Out in the distance is a tree which dwarfs all others, stretching out to seemingly infinity. Chloe and I are in agreement. If there’s a more obvious beacon of where to go from here, I can’t imagine what it would be. No words need be exchanged between us. Still hand in hand, the two of us depart, making our way toward where this strange landscape wants us to go.