"You'll die here, it's clear," Zane said, his voice a playful growl, each word a spark in the morning air. "Not from pain or fear, but I'll tickle you to tears—
Tickle Domain: Demonic fingers, harrh!" He lunged at Ariel, his fingers dancing across her sides, his vision tracking her squirming outline as she collapsed into giggles.
"Ah, nohoho, big brother, stop—haha!" Ariel's laughter rang out, bright and unburdened, her blue eyes sparkling as she writhed on the concrete, her hands flailing to fend him off. After a few relentless seconds, she lay panting, still chuckling, her golden hair splayed around her like a halo.
Zane stepped back, his smirk sharp, and turned toward Celine, her silhouette tense in his mind's vision, her guard up, her energy aura flickering with unease. He stopped just in front of her, his presence towering despite his blindness. Celine stared, her hazel eyes wide, her breath catching as the blind man seemed to see her, his stillness unnerving. He lingered for a moment, then turned, walking back to Ariel, his movements fluid as he helped his laughing sister to her feet, his hand gentle on her arm. "You did good, both of you," he said, his voice a steady current, warm but firm. "Now, I'm starving. Let's head inside."
"I'll make something real quick," Celine said, her voice soft but eager, her red braid bouncing as she started toward the mansion's door.
Zane's head snapped toward the main gate, his sound-based vision catching a new outline approaching, the security system's faint hum confirming the visitor's identity. "It's Valmer," Ariel said, her blue eyes brightening as she rushed to greet him, her golden hair catching the morning breeze.
Zane ignored them, his boots steady on the concrete as he headed inside. He navigated to the kitchen, his hands tracing countertops, picking up ingredients whose shapes were clear but whose nature eluded him. 'A carrot? An apple?' He turned a round object in his hand, his brow furrowing, his blindness a puzzle he couldn't solve alone.
Celine entered, her voice hesitant but kind. "Um, Zane, I'll whip something up if you can wait just a minute," she said, her hazel eyes glancing at him as he held what she recognized as an onion, his fingers probing it like it might bite. "You don't need to figure out what's what. I've got this."
Zane's lips twitched, a faint smirk forming as he set the onion down and stepped out of the kitchen, his vision guiding him to a plush sofa in the living room. He sank into it, his head tilting back, staring at a ceiling he couldn't see. 'He's the Apex of Apexes,' Onilia's voice echoed in his mind, a memory from a distant world. "Guess I'll see her in two years," he muttered, his voice a low rumble, a sigh escaping as he thought of his mentor's strength, her absence a quiet ache.
"See who?" Ariel's voice cut through, bright and curious, as she entered with Valmer behind her, his white coat and trousers crisp, his hands tucked in his pockets, his sable-rose eyes scanning the room. "Did you get attacked last night? Your parking lot's a mess—cracks, ice, stones everywhere."
Zane's smirk returned, his head tilting toward Valmer's outline. "Don't mind it. Just sparring with Ariel and Celine. No big deal." His voice was calm, but Valmer rushed to Ariel, his expression shifting to worry, his rosary beads clinking faintly.
"Are you okay, Ariel? Where did he hurt you? Show me," Valmer said, his voice urgent, his memory flashing to the brutal kick Zane had landed on him days ago, a reminder of the blind man's strength.
Zane's jaw tightened, his voice rising with a rare edge of anger. "Hey, you think I'd hurt my own sister? What kind of idiot do you take me for?" His words were sharp, a blade cutting through the room's warmth, his sound-based vision catching Valmer's flinch.
Valmer raised his hands, his sable-rose eyes wary. "I don't know, man. It doesn't seem impossible, given how you fight." His tone was half-teasing, half-cautious, trying to defuse the tension.
"Tch, whatever," Zane said, his voice cooling, changing the topic with a deliberate shift. "Why are you in my house so early anyway? I just got here."
Kenshi's voice answered, low and steady, as his outline appeared in the doorway, his katana at his side, his amber eyes sharp. "You promised us information, Zane. That's why we're here." Yuna followed, her chestnut hair with golden streaks tied back, her sharp eyes scanning him, while Kai trailed last, his twin swords sheathed, his presence a quiet storm.
Celine, bustling in the kitchen, called out, her voice soft but firm. "Um, since everyone's here, how about we talk over breakfast? It's almost ready." Her hands moved quickly, plates clinking as she set the table, her hazel eyes bright with a quiet pride.
They gathered around a rectangular marble dining table, the air filling with the warm scent of scrambled eggs, toast, and fresh coffee. Zane dug in, his fork moving with ravenous precision, each bite a small victory after the strange, meager meals he'd endured on Zoic. He ate like it was his last meal, his vision mapping the table's outlines—plates, cups, the Primordials' forms. Celine watched, a faint smile tugging at her lips, her pride swelling as she saw Zane's enthusiasm for her cooking.
Ariel leaned forward, her blue eyes glinting, her voice teasing. "Big brother, slow down! You're eating like you've been starved for years. Save some for us!"
Valmer chuckled as he sipped his coffee. "Yeah, man, you're making us nervous. Spill the info already—what do you know about the System, the Tower, the Geminis?"
Kenshi's amber eyes narrowed, his voice low. "You've got secrets, Zane. We're allies now, so start talking. What's coming in the Tower?"
Kai, leaning back, his dragon tattoo flexing, added, "Don't hold out, blind man. We're not here for the food."
Zane continued to devour his meal, completely ignoring them. The others ate more slowly, their eyes darting to him, waiting for the promised information. Suddenly, Zane paused, a low laugh rumbling from his chest, breaking the room's quiet like a stone through still water. "Spill the info? Blind man?" he said, his voice a teasing growl, each word deliberate, laced with amusement. "You lot have gotten cocky since I lost my sight, huh? Don't you know good food deserves respect? But if you're so impatient, I'll talk—after I ask something first." He sipped his coffee, its warmth grounding him.
Yuna leaned forward, her voice steady but inquisitive. "What do you want to know, Zane? We're all ears, so make it quick." She took a bite of toast, her gaze never leaving him, her aura a steady pulse in his perception.
Zane's smirk widened, his head tilting toward her. "How did the world figure out there were only five Primordials, with all the chaos during the Tutorial? Seems like a stretch to pin it down so fast." His voice was casual, but his mind was sharp, probing for gaps in their knowledge.
Valmer answered, his eyes thoughtful. "It was organized, believe it or not. Governments, what's left of them, put out official posts in every country—digital boards, radio broadcasts, whatever worked. Awakeners were asked to report their ranks, their abilities, to local hubs. With the world in panic, people complied fast. The Primordials—you know, us—were verified through the System data we showed them." His voice was steady, but his aura flickered with unease, as if he sensed Zane's question wasn't idle.
Zane's thoughts raced, hidden behind his smirk. 'So, they relied on voluntary reports and tests. That means there could be others—Awakeners who hid their ranks, maybe equal to or stronger than Primordials, the possibility is quite significant.' He leaned back, his empty plate pushed aside, his voice light but deliberate. "One more thing—don't let anyone know my rank or my strength."
Kai, his twin swords sheathed, raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms. "Your sister already told us to keep quiet about you, but why the secrecy? You're an Alpha, what's the big deal?" His voice was gruff, his aura sharp with suspicion.
Zane's smirk didn't waver, his tone smooth, deflecting. "I don't like unwanted attention. Never have. Crowds, questions, eyes on me—it's a hassle I don't need." He finished his coffee, the cup's outline clear in his mind, and set it down with a soft clink. "You'll all die sooner or later," he said, his voice dropping, serious now, a dark current cutting through the room's warmth. "Me, I'm looking for a way to survive this—whatever's coming."
Ariel's blue eyes widened, her voice tight with concern. "What do you mean, big brother? Die? What's going to happen?" Her hands gripped the table, her golden hair falling forward, her aura pulsing with worry.
Zane tilted his head toward her, his voice softening but firm. "Don't worry about the System itself, Ariel. It'll all be laid out when we hit the Tower. What you need to focus on is getting stronger—faster, tougher, smarter—in the shortest time possible. The Geminis we fought? Those were just warm-ups, a taste to get you used to your abilities. That's why they called it the Tutorial." His words were heavy, each one a stone dropped into their minds, his sound-based vision catching their shifting outlines—Valmer's tension, Kenshi's narrowed eyes, Yuna's clenched jaw, Kai's leaning forward.
Yuna's voice cut through, sharp with disbelief, her sharp eyes flashing. "Wait a minute, you're saying all that—the Elite Geminis, the bloodshed, the chaos—was just the beginning? Those things were terrifying, Zane. We barely survived." Her aura flared, a mix of fear and frustration, her memory haunted by the battle's brutality.
Zane's smirk faded, his voice a low, steady stream, each word deliberate. "Yeah, it was just the start. The real fight begins in the Tower. Our enemies aren't just Geminis—they're beings from other planets, other worlds, stronger, deadlier. I could tell you more, but it's too much, and most of it will be clear when we get there. What I'll give you now is this: use the System, but don't rely on it. It's a tool, not a crutch. It'll guide you, give you abilities, but it's not your master. As for the Tower itself?" He paused, his unseeing eyes hidden, his voice dropping to a single, chilling word. "Hell. Everyone in it, everyone who's survived it—they're demons in their own right."