November 24, 2024 - The Tower, Second Tier, Second Stage

Pablo stood rather anxious at the back.

He had not expected Leonie to take his suggestion so seriously.

Before him stood the Shadows' seven main 3-man squads, all in battle formation, with Leonie wearing her full gear at the front.

Pablo's heart was beating fast. After all… he started all of this. And… who the hell was he?

As his thoughts drifted into doubt, something caught his eye—movement on the horizon.

The three men Leonie had sent to aggro an Ignisaurus were returning—with one in tow.

Pablo noticed three squads moving forward.

They dashed in perfect rhythm. Each carried a small bag tied at the waist, filled with orbs. Pablo recognised two of the squad leaders—Vane and Otto. He'd seen them fight before. Monsters.

The Ignisaurus began to pick up speed.

The squads split apart, encircling it without pause.

Two moved in from the sides, meeting the incoming claws with their blades. Sparks flew as their swords scraped against the hardened hide, locking the limbs just long enough to slow its movement.

Two more darted under, looping thick vine-ropes around the creature's legs and pulling tight. Hooks dug into the ground to hold the tension, keeping the beast off balance as it struggled.

One slid low behind it, jabbing his blade between plates near the ankle joint, forcing the leg to buckle.

Another three secured the ropes—one tying off the ends, while the other two drove metal pins into the rock, anchoring the bind and keeping the tension locked.

Pablo had seen their efficiency before, but it never stopped amazing him. Each step was timed. Each move, coordinated.

Vane stood directly in front of the Ignisaurus, unmoved. Calm.

He stepped closer, raised one orb, and tossed it lightly into the creature's mouth. Then another. And another.

Pablo counted silently. Two... five... six...

The orbs went in with no resistance. No noise. The Ignisaurus growled, but didn't move.

The air around them changed. It grew heavier.

Vane turned his head slightly, just enough to meet Leonie's gaze.

She gave the smallest nod.

He threw in the seventh orb.

Pablo swallowed hard.

Nothing happened.

One second passed.

Then—

"SCREEEE!!!"

The Ignisaurus let out a sound so sharp it pierced through the bones. Pablo moved to cover his ears, but the pulse had already hit him.

He grimaced, but his eyes stayed fixed on the creature.

It twitched. Jerked. Spasmed.

Lava-like blood spilled from its mouth and cracks along its body began to widen. Segments of the outer shell split, molten fluid hissing as it met open air.

Its back arched. Limbs stretched.

The shift wasn't massive—but it was there. The torso lengthened, the legs reshaped. More upright. More balanced. The claws sharpened, the joints stiffened, then reset. Cleaner. Tighter.

It stood taller. Not by much. But there was a certain... elegance to it now.

Pablo blinked once.

It was clear. The Ignisaurus had evolved.

But while Pablo was stunned, the Shadows were already moving. Another squad advanced and joined the others in restraining the beast.

It resisted, but to no avail.

Otto zigzagged, slid low by its limbs, and slashed cleanly through the tendons behind its knees. The creature dropped, crashing into the stone with a jarring thud.

Additional ropes—made of layered vines—were thrown over its neck and head. A hooked bridle was pulled tight across its jaw, looped behind its small horns and under the lower jaw.

Three fighters tightened the cords from both sides, locking the mouth shut and threading a curved bone rod through the rope junction behind the maw to keep it sealed.

The beast screeched again—but the sound was muffled, throat straining, jaw unable to fully open.

One of the Shadows twisted the bone rod slightly.

The screech stopped.

Pablo noticed someone toss Vane a bag filled with orbs—and then it began again.

Vane stepped forward and threw them in one by one, using a small gap left open in the bridle just wide enough for the orbs to pass through.

One... two... three... all the way to seven.

Pablo's eyes were locked on the creature. He focused on every movement, every shift. He wanted to remember it all—to study it later, break it down, understand what this meant.

Even if it scared him, it thrilled him more than anything else he had seen in The Tower so far.

Forced evolution. Accelerated growth.

And right on cue, the Ignisaurus spasmed again. Muscles tensed. Its body stretched. Legs lengthened—especially the front ones. The horns grew sharper, curving back further along its skull. Its tail thickened and extended, dragging deeper grooves into the rock beneath it.

It fought harder this time, trying to rise. Tried to screech again—but its jaw was locked in place.

Fourteen members of the Shadows were holding it down now, ropes looped around its limbs, back, and neck, hooked into stone and crossed over each other in a tight, precise pattern.

And so it continued.

At twenty-one orbs, it shifted again.

Everything expanded—horns longer, claws sharper, limbs more defined. The tail flicked with more control.

Twenty-eight orbs. Then thirty-five.

By the time it reached forty-two, the beast was over ten meters tall and more than 15 meters long. Its movements were no longer wild—they were focused. It no longer aimlessly pulled. Its eyes now held something deeper. Pride. Intelligence.

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Twenty Shadows held it down. No gaps. No slack. The binding system had become a net of ropes, crisscrossed and anchored across the terrain like a trap meant for a titan—and well deserved it was.

After all… the creature no longer looked like an Ignisaurus anymore—or at least, Pablo would say it had gone from an Ignisaurus minor to an Ignisaurus magnus.

But something still felt missing. Like it needed one more element to complete itself.

And Pablo was certain—the next transformation wouldn't be that simple. After all… in The Tower… forty-nine is the charm.

And of course, Leonie knew it too.

She was staring straight into the creature's eyes, and it stared back. It no longer tried to resist. No screech. No roar. It was calm. Maybe… it knew.

Leonie stepped forward.

She took Vane's place and grabbed the bag of orbs.

She walked ahead, slow and steady, until she stood less than a meter from the creature's face.

And she waited. Seconds passed. No sound.

Then Pablo heard her voice in his head.

"Step twenty meters back and prepare to run further on notice."

Pablo nodded and obeyed. Honestly, he was already thinking about doing that anyway. Whatever was about to come… wasn't going to be your average creature.

He had seen the leaders of the Crustaceans and Scyphozoa from afar—and the thing in front of him? It already seemed on their level… maybe even stronger.

One more set of seven orbs and—

He had a hunch. And if he was right, it would change everything. Not just this fight. The whole concept of the stage.

But if it was true… why would The Tower allow it? Unless—

His heart tensed.

Movement.

The Shadows stepped back. They went to their packs, pulled out slings and javelins. Pablo also noticed the secondary combat units and support squads approaching from afar. It seemed Leonie had called them all.

All moved into formation—squads in a wide circle around the creature.

Only Leonie remained at the front. She hadn't moved at all.

Until—

She grabbed the whole bag… and threw it.

Sixteen days already since this stage started.

Sixteen days since I last saw Ayu.

I haven't heard from her or any of the others. This world—this stage of The Tower—is massive. Comparable to a whole continent back on Earth. They could be anywhere. And yet… I have a hunch they're safe. With the other civilization. With the Azcoyatl. Training and growing in power, just as we are here.

I stare at the landscape ahead.

The terrain is drier—barren, cracked, sun-bleached. South of us, where we started, the soil had more life, more green. The air even smelled different.

It took us nearly three days to reach this place.

Now we stand on the ridge that overlooks the battlefield.

From here, the Ajnal base is just visible in the distance—a collection of angular structures woven into the rock, their walls half-grown, half-built from metallic vines and black stone.

This is where the Ajnal fight the Xok'al. Or at least, one of the many outposts where skirmishes occur. Still, it's considered one of the relatively safe ones—a place where scout troops operate and occasional clashes break out.

Imani, Arjun, and I follow the guide who brought us here—a Stone Jaguar, just like us. In fact, everyone stationed at this base is at least a Stone Jaguar, with Lords of Sparks serving as captains.

I heard on the way that there's a rank above that—Aj K'inil, which roughly translates as Bearer of the Sun. They act as commanders in critical locations, and from what I understand, they're the real divide in the hierarchy. None are stationed here, though.

I wonder how strong one of them is.

A Lord of Sparks, from what I've sensed, is probably weaker than an ice wyvern. So would a Bearer of the Sun be on par with one? Stronger?

My thoughts drift as we approach the base. More details come into view.

There aren't many warriors here—I'd estimate fifty, maybe sixty at most. A small outpost, by the look of it.

But still… that's fifty to sixty Stone Jaguars.

Even half that number would be more than enough to crush the twenty-five of us who arrived at this stage—without even trying.

And that's not counting the Lords of Sparks among them.

Several minutes later, we reach the base. The air here is slightly hotter and drier. Warriors glance at us as we pass—mostly curious.

We're brought directly to one of the captains—a Lord of Sparks whose armor looks nothing like the one we saw back at the village.

His plating is darker, with crack-like patterns glowing faintly along the shoulders and chest, like magma under obsidian. It gives off a subtle pulse—steady, controlled.

His name is Ek' Ch'ahak, but I'll just remember him as Chahak.

He briefs us quickly.

Same basic rules as in the village, but now there are patrol rotations and night watch shifts.

Also, each squad is responsible for securing its own food.

Hunting, foraging, or whatever local method works. No central supply.

We're not kept together either.

Each of us is assigned to a different squad—makes sense in hindsight. Sticking three fresh recruits into the same unit would be odd… even if I know each of us is significantly stronger than the average Stone Jaguar. Not quite at Lord of Sparks level yet, but close.

I'm guided to my new squad's quarters.

The structure is carved into the side of a sloping ridge, half-submerged in stone. Inside, it's quiet and stripped down—smoothed rock walls, narrow ventilation cuts, and a soft, constant glow from charged guides running along the edges.

I pass a sealed stone door on the right—a private chamber, probably meant for the captain. I keep walking.

Ahead is an open space. Eight alcoves carved into the walls, evenly spaced. Just enough for sleeping and stashing gear.

As I step in, six heads lift—some from sharpening weapons, others from cleaning gear or resting with eyes half-closed.

One of them rises.

She's broad-shouldered, with a thick braid over one shoulder and a faded scar across her collarbone.

"New one," she says, voice even and calm.

I nod. "Yes. I'm Alonso."

She walks closer, studies me for a moment, then taps her chest.

"Xam Tunich. Vice-leader. You listen. You follow."

Xam… sounds like Sam. Easy to remember. And I probably should, if we're going to be fighting side by side for a while.

She seems tough.

What really stands out, though… is how natural it is here. A woman leading warriors, no one blinking twice.

Maybe it's their biology, their evolutionary path? There's no real difference between a woman and a man who reaches the Stone Jaguar stage—both perform the same in combat.

Interesting… would the Ajnal then still be a patriarchal society, like those ancient Mesoamerican civilizations The Tower seems to have drawn inspiration from? Or has gender simply stopped mattering?

The thoughts run through my head, but I stay calm on the outside, studying Xam in an instant.

She doesn't seem to care who I am. That's good. I won't have to prove anything with words.

Simple enough.

"Understood."

She gestures to an open alcove along the left wall. "Yours. Gear stays close."

Before I can respond, footsteps echo near the entrance.

Everyone in the room straightens.

I feel it—the presence.

A controlled EM domain pressing lightly around him.

The captain.

He stops a few steps inside, eyes fixed on me.

"You. New blood."

I nod, adding a slight bow. "Alonso."

"I Tohol Pakal. Captain of the squad."

Tohol, hmm… seems like the reliable type.

Then again, anyone in their civilization who's risen to the rank of Lord of Sparks has done it over quite a few corpses of Xok'al…

He glances at Xam. "You teach him."

She nods once.

Tohol looks back at me.

"You fight with us now. No mistakes. No slowing down."

I meet his eyes. I raise my hand, twist my fist, and thumb it to my heart.

It's an Ajnal gesture that roughly means: I will fight until my heart stops beating.

Tohol's gaze lingers for a moment. He nods, then leaves.

So this is my new squad, huh… let's see how it goes.

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