"Everything I know?" Professor Thorne's thin lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his amber eyes. "That would take lifetimes, Mr. Moretti. And time is something we have precious little of." He gestured to the window, where the crimson moon hung bloated and malevolent in the fractured sky. "The unmaking accelerates. Soon, there will be nothing left of this reality but the Tower itself."
Kaelen clutched the Codex Entropicus tighter, its leather binding warm against his fingers. The hunger within him had subsided to a dull ache after consuming Marcus, but he could feel it stirring again, awakened by Thorne's presence. The professor radiated power—not the raw, chaotic energy of the twisted creatures in the plaza, but something more refined, controlled. Dangerous.
"Start with what you know about me," Kaelen said, keeping his distance. "How did you know my name? Both of them?"
Thorne moved to a nearby reading table, his movements fluid and precise, almost predatory in their grace. He pulled out a chair and sat, folding his long-fingered hands before him. "The Tower speaks to those who can hear it. Those who have been... changed. It whispers names, secrets, fragments of knowledge. I heard yours the moment you survived the initial wave of unmaking. An anomaly within an anomaly—a transmigrated soul in a body that should have dissolved like all the others."
The casual mention of his transmigration sent a chill down Kaelen's spine. He had barely come to terms with it himself, this impossible displacement from one reality to another. "And what are you, Professor? Another transmigrated soul?"
"No." Thorne's amber eyes flickered, the glow intensifying momentarily. "I was Elias Thorne before the unmaking began. Professor of Theoretical Physics at the Imperial University. I was studying... well, that hardly matters now. What matters is that I, like you, was changed rather than unmade. But my transformation began earlier, was more... deliberate."
Kaelen's scholar's mind latched onto this, a potential key to understanding. "You knew this was coming? The unmaking?"
"Not precisely this, no." Thorne's gaze drifted to the window, to the Tower's obsidian silhouette. "I was researching dimensional boundaries, the thin membranes between realities. I discovered... anomalies. Weak points. Places where something was pushing through from the other side." His voice dropped, becoming almost reverent. "The Tower was calling to me, even then. Preparing me."
The hunger within Kaelen pulsed, a warning or an encouragement, he couldn't tell. "For what?"
Thorne's attention snapped back to him, those amber eyes suddenly intense. "For what comes after the unmaking. For the remaking." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "The Tower isn't destroying reality, Mr. Moretti. It's transforming it. And us with it."
The words resonated with the strange whispers Kaelen had heard in the courtyard. The becoming. "Into what?"
"That," Thorne said, leaning back, "is the question we must answer. And quickly." He gestured to the book in Kaelen's hands. "The Codex contains fragments of truth, but it's incomplete. There are other sources of knowledge scattered throughout the city. Other Anomalies who have discovered pieces of the puzzle. We need to find them, learn what they know, before—"
A distant, keening wail cut through the library's silence, a sound Kaelen recognized from the plaza. The creatures were coming. Hunting.
horne was on his feet in an instant, his movements a blur. "They've tracked you. Your consumption of Marcus has made you... noticeable." He moved to a bookshelf, pulling volumes aside to reveal a hidden lever. "We must go. Now."
Kaelen hesitated, the revolver still in his hand. Trust didn't come easily in this new, broken reality. "Why should I go with you? How do I know you're not just another predator, looking for an easy meal?"
Thorne paused, his hand on the lever. His amber eyes met Kaelen's, and for a moment, the scholarly facade dropped, revealing something ancient and terrible beneath. "If I wanted to consume you, Mr. Moretti, I would have done so the moment you entered my library." The lever clicked, and a section of the floor slid away, revealing a narrow staircase descending into darkness. "But the truth is, I need you. We need each other. The Tower has chosen us both, for reasons I don't yet understand. And I intend to find out why."
The wailing grew louder, closer. Multiple voices now, a hunting pack converging on their location. Kaelen's decision was made for him by the approaching threat. He tucked the Codex into his waistband alongside the notebook and followed Thorne down the stairs, the trapdoor sliding shut above them, plunging them into darkness.
A moment later, a soft amber glow emanated from Thorne's outstretched palm, illuminating a narrow tunnel lined with rough stone. "This way," the professor said, moving forward with that same predatory grace. "The old sewer system. Parts of it remain stable, protected from the unmaking by layers of reality that haven't yet been breached."
Kaelen followed, his enhanced senses picking up the musty scent of stagnant water and ancient stone. The hunger within him had quieted, as if satisfied by their flight from danger, but he knew it was merely biding its time. "Where are we going?"
"To meet the others," Thorne replied without turning. "Other Anomalies who have retained their sanity, their purpose. We've formed a... coalition, of sorts. Seeking understanding, and perhaps a way to survive what's coming."
They walked in silence for what felt like hours, the tunnel occasionally branching or descending deeper beneath the dying city. Kaelen's mind raced, processing everything he'd learned. The Tower, the unmaking, the transformation of reality itself. And his own role in it all—an anomaly within an anomaly, as Thorne had put it. A transmigrated soul with the power to consume the essence of others. The implications were terrifying.
Finally, the tunnel widened into a larger chamber, its ceiling supported by ancient stone arches. The amber light from Thorne's palm revealed a space that had been transformed into a makeshift sanctuary. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with volumes salvaged from the surface. Tables covered in maps, diagrams, and strange instruments occupied the center of the room. And there were others—three figures who turned at their entrance, their eyes glowing with the same unnatural light as Thorne's, though in different hues.
"Professor," one of them said, a woman with silver-streaked hair and eyes that glowed a deep, sapphire blue. "You've brought a guest." Her gaze, penetrating and analytical, fixed on Kaelen. "The new Anomaly we sensed."
"This is Klein Moretti," Thorne said, the amber light in his palm fading as wall-mounted lamps flickered to life. "Or Kaelen, as he sometimes thinks of himself. A transmigrated soul with a remarkable affinity for consumption."
The woman approached, her movements cautious but not threatening. "Transmigrated? Fascinating." She circled Kaelen, studying him with scientific detachment. "I'm Dr. Lydia Voss. Formerly of the Department of Metaphysical Studies at the Imperial University. Now... well, we're all something else now, aren't we?"
The other two figures remained at a distance. One, a burly man with a thick beard and eyes that glowed a deep forest green, nodded in acknowledgment. "Roland," he said simply. "City Guard, before all this." The third, a slender, androgynous figure with eyes like molten silver, merely watched in silence, their gaze unnervingly direct.
"And that's Vex," Thorne said, following Kaelen's gaze. "They don't speak much. Former street urchin, I believe, before the unmaking. But they have a gift for navigation, for finding stable paths through the chaos above."
Kaelen nodded to each in turn, still wary but relieved to find others who hadn't been reduced to mindless predators. "You've been studying the unmaking," he said, gesturing to the tables covered in research materials. "What have you learned?"
Dr. Voss moved to one of the tables, picking up a diagram that depicted the Tower, surrounded by concentric circles marked with strange symbols. "The Tower appeared approximately seventy-two hours ago, though time has become... fluid since then. It emerged at the exact center of what we've come to call the Entropic Zone—the area of maximum unmaking."
"It's expanding," Roland added, his deep voice rumbling in the chamber. "The Zone. Started just in the Old Quarter, but now it's spread to most of the city. Soon, it'll cover everything."
"And beyond," Thorne said grimly. "Other cities, other continents. Eventually, the entire world. Reality itself is being unmade, reshaped according to the Tower's design."
Kaelen absorbed this, the scholar in him—the part that was still Klein Moretti—desperate to understand. "But why? What's the purpose?"
"That," Dr. Voss said, "is what we're trying to determine." She gestured to the Codex still tucked in Kaelen's waistband. "I see you found one of the transformed texts. What did it reveal to you?"
Kaelen hesitated, then withdrew the book, placing it on the table. "Information about consumption. About Anomalies like us. It mentioned a... becoming."
The four exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. Finally, Thorne spoke. "Each of us has found different texts, different fragments of knowledge. The Tower seems to be... testing us. Providing information based on our individual natures, our potential."
"Potential for what?" Kaelen asked, the hunger within him stirring at the word.
"Ascension," Vex said suddenly, their voice soft and melodic, surprising Kaelen. "The Tower seeks vessels. Worthy vessels."
Dr. Voss nodded, her blue eyes intense. "We believe the Tower is a conduit—a bridge between our reality and... something else. The unmaking is preparation, clearing the way for what comes after. And we, the Anomalies, are being evaluated, transformed into potential vessels for whatever entities exist on the other side."
The hunger within Kaelen surged at this, a wave of desperate need that made him gasp. The others noticed, their glowing eyes narrowing.
"You've consumed recently," Thorne observed. "Another Anomaly?"
"One of the twisted ones," Kaelen admitted, the memory of Marcus's dissolution still fresh. "It was... instinctual. Self-defense."
Roland grunted. "It always starts that way. Self-defense. Survival. But the hunger grows. Becomes something else."
"We've all felt it," Dr. Voss said, her tone clinical but not unsympathetic. "The urge to consume. To absorb the essence of others. It's part of our transformation, our becoming. But it can also be our undoing."
"How so?" Kaelen asked, though part of him already knew the answer.
"The more you consume," Thorne explained, "the stronger you become. But also, the more you... change. The hunger takes over. Consumes you, even as you consume others. Most Anomalies eventually lose themselves to it, becoming like the creatures you encountered in the plaza. Predators without purpose, without identity."
"But you haven't," Kaelen observed. "None of you."
"We've found... alternatives," Dr. Voss said carefully. "Ways to feed the hunger without losing ourselves. The entropic energy can be harvested from the environment itself, from objects and places touched by the unmaking. It's less... satisfying than consuming another being, but it allows us to retain our sanity, our purpose."
Kaelen thought of the particles he had absorbed before encountering Marcus, the momentary satiation they had provided. "And what is that purpose? Why resist the hunger if the world is ending anyway?"
"Because," Thorne said, his amber eyes fixed on the diagram of the Tower, "we believe there's a way to survive the unmaking. To shape what comes after." He turned to Kaelen, his expression grave. "The Tower isn't just destroying our reality. It's creating a new one. And those who understand its nature, who can harness its power without being consumed by it, might have a place in that new reality."
"Or might be able to stop it entirely," Roland added, earning a sharp look from Thorne.
"That's... optimistic," the professor said diplomatically. "But yes, understanding the Tower might give us options beyond mere survival or transformation."
The hunger within Kaelen pulsed again, more insistent this time. The brief satiation from consuming Marcus was fading faster than he'd expected. Soon, he would need to feed again. The thought both terrified and excited him, a dichotomy that itself was frightening.
Dr. Voss noticed his discomfort. "Your hunger is strong," she observed. "Newer Anomalies often experience more intense cravings. We can help you learn to manage it, to feed without losing yourself."
"But first," Thorne interjected, "we need what you know. What the Tower has revealed to you. Each Anomaly receives different insights, different pieces of the puzzle. Your transmigrated nature makes you unique among us. The Tower may have shown you things we haven't seen."
Kaelen thought of the notebook, the ominous message written in the Hermes language. "Everyone will die, including me." Was that a prophecy? A warning? Or simply the despairing final thought of the original Klein Moretti before his consciousness was replaced by Kaelen's?
"I don't know much," he admitted. "I woke up in Klein Moretti's body just as the unmaking began. I've been running, surviving, trying to understand what's happening. The only direct communication I've had with the Tower was a series of whispers in a courtyard. Something about being an 'anomaly' and a 'seed of change.'"
"Seed of change," Vex repeated, their silver eyes widening. "The harbinger."
The others turned to the slender figure, their expressions a mixture of surprise and concern.
"What do you mean?" Thorne demanded. "What is a harbinger in this context?"
Vex's silver gaze remained fixed on Kaelen. "The texts I found spoke of a harbinger—a being that would arrive at the moment of unmaking, neither of the old reality nor fully of the new. A catalyst for transformation." They approached Kaelen, moving with an eerie, fluid grace. "The Tower has marked you. Chosen you for something specific."
The hunger within Kaelen surged again, stronger this time, as if responding to Vex's words. He doubled over, gasping, the void inside him a yawning, desperate emptiness that demanded to be filled.
"He needs to feed," Dr. Voss said urgently. "Now. Before the hunger takes control."
Thorne nodded, his decision made. "Roland, bring one of the stabilized fragments. Quickly."
The burly man moved to a locked cabinet in the corner, retrieving a small, crystalline object that pulsed with entropic energy. He returned, offering it to Kaelen with a wary expression.
"This is safer than consuming beings," Thorne explained. "A crystallized fragment of reality, stabilized through a process Dr. Voss developed. It will feed your hunger without risking your identity."
Kaelen reached for the fragment, his hand trembling with need. As his fingers closed around it, he felt the now-familiar flow of energy, the momentary satiation of the void within. But it was different from consuming Marcus—cleaner, less invasive. No alien memories, no sense of violation. Just pure, entropic power flowing into him, feeding the hunger without feeding the monster he feared he was becoming.
"Better?" Dr. Voss asked as the crystal dissolved completely, absorbed into Kaelen's being.
He nodded, straightening. "Yes. Thank you." The hunger had receded to a manageable level, a background hum rather than an overwhelming roar. "How did you create that?"
"I'll show you," she promised. "But first, we need to understand your connection to the Tower. If you truly are this harbinger Vex speaks of, you may be key to our survival—or to stopping the unmaking entirely."
Thorne's amber eyes narrowed slightly at this, a flicker of something—disagreement? concern?—crossing his features before his scholarly mask returned. "Indeed. But we must proceed carefully. The Tower watches. It listens. And it has plans for all of us, plans we are only beginning to comprehend."
As if in response to his words, a low, distant rumble shook the chamber, dust falling from the ancient stone arches above. The unmaking was accelerating, the world above continuing to dissolve into entropic chaos. And somewhere at its center, the Bleeding Tower pulsed with dark purpose, watching, waiting, transforming reality itself—and them along with it.