The night sky was no longer gloomy, even as the city lay in ruins beneath it. I sat atop shattered marble and broken glass, the wreckage of a city that had once shone as brightly as the stars above. The smell of iron and blood still saturated the air, forming a silent symphony that no one wanted to hear.
Two days had passed since the world he knew was destroyed by the very hands that had once sworn to protect it. I did not move; there was no reason to. An emptiness that could not be filled, not even by time.
Dex, who had been silent until now, slowly stood up. His voice was almost drowned out by the whisper of the night wind as he gazed at the thousands of stars shining brilliantly in the sky. Finally, Dex, who had been quiet all this time, spoke.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he said.
Strange, I thought. Those words felt out of place. But perhaps that was precisely why they were uttered—from a place deep within his soul, a place that had not been completely destroyed.
He stepped closer to the body of a woman clutching a child tightly. Dex's eyes studied them as if trying to understand something that logic could not explain. His eyes were red, but no tears fell. He had run out of them.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, almost inaudibly. Then he looked up at the sky and closed his eyes.
Perhaps... hoping that all of this was just a dream that would vanish when he opened them.
---
Dex did not grow up with love. His life was a record of wounds and rejection from an early age. At ten years old, his biological parents abandoned him, discarding him like broken goods. In hunger and despair, he met someone who changed everything—a middle-aged woman who, for the first time, made him feel warmth.
"From now on, we are family," she had said back then. A simple sentence, but to Dex, it was the first light in a dark life—a person who reached out and saved him.
Vannesa—the little sister who never stopped calling him "big brother," the only voice that made the world feel lighter. They were his family, his only reason to keep going.
And the war—the war that started over a trivial taunt from drunken, power-hungry nobles—took everything away.
Dex remembered his mother's screams, Vannesa's body trembling in fear, blood everywhere.
"Don't... be bound by hatred... remain a light, Dex..."
Those were her last words. Dex didn't have time to respond. Didn't have time to promise. Didn't have time to save her. He could only watch as she breathed her last.
Dex closed his eyes, collapsing to the ground. The wound in his stomach had begun to fester, and the hunger he had endured for two days was becoming unbearable.
When his eyes opened again, Dex no longer saw corpses. No longer smelled blood. Only white walls and silence enveloped him. This place was not the world he knew.
"Where is this...?"
A holographic screen floated before him.
＞ [Welcome to the Tower of Amerta.]
"What does this mean?"
Confused, I tried slapping my cheek, hoping I would wake up in my bed.
"It hurts. So this isn't just a dream."
I kept slapping myself, hoping I would wake up. Each slap felt like it was crushing every last bit of hope I had left.
The slaps to his face confirmed the pain was real. Each one shattered the small hope that all of this was just a delusion.
Then more information appeared.
＞ [Name: Dex Lazuardi
＞ Race: Human
＞ Age: 17
＞ Talent: (E)
＞ Skills: Cooking (C), Memory (C)
＞ Special Skill: Hard Work]
Thinking back, perhaps this was what his father had meant by "Awakening."
Awakening—something everyone achieved when they turned eighteen, and the anticipation of all who sought to change their lives in a world where only strength was valued.
Awakening was determined by talent, from the lowest to the highest:
(F) (E) (D) (C) (B) (A) (S) and a special rank.
Dex felt no interest. This talent, arriving too late, could not bring back what had been lost. Anger burned in his eyes.
"What's the point of all this?! My family is dead!" Dex shouted meaninglessly into the void.
[But this was Alef's request. Your father's.]
Suddenly, the world seemed to stop. Dex grabbed the screen, shaking it as if he could squeeze answers from the light.
"What do you mean... Alef? Father?"
Father? Alef—even though I wasn't his biological son, he was always kind to me.
He taught me how to wield a sword and always protected me when we traveled.
[He left a letter. Complete this Tower, and you will receive it.]
And just like that, the screen disappeared. Replaced by a single sentence.
[1000 YEARS HAVE PASSED]
"What?"
***
Finally, 1000 years had passed.
There was no day or night in the Tower of Amerta. Only silence. Only white. Only time that felt motionless yet slowly cutting.
Yet Dex remained alive. Still moving. Still training his body, his mind, his spirit. Because [Hard Work] wasn't just a skill—it was a spirit ingrained in him like blood in his veins, keeping him sane amidst the madness.
Sometimes he talked to himself. Sometimes he talked to the Tower.
Dex, who had waited for 1000 years while training, showed no signs of aging or physical change.
But his eyes, which had been empty when he entered, now held far more depth—likely because he had let go of all the burdens that had once bound him.
[You are the only one who succeeded, and you will be the last.]
"What do you mean, the last?"
After staying in the Tower for so long, Dex knew how weak and difficult it was. Everyone who tried to endure would eventually go mad and take their own lives.
The silent, all-white room offered no entertainment to keep their minds sane.
The Tower's power depended on the users—the strength they generated. The more influential the user, the stronger the Tower.
The Tower of Amerta had lost its power because no one had ever succeeded in completing it before.
— I was lucky to have the special skill Hard Work.
Every time I was on the verge of madness, this skill helped me stay sane.
[The Tower will disappear after you leave.]
"Why? I could help you, you know."
[Hahaha. I'm glad you have good intentions.]
"I just want to repay the debt."
[There isn't enough time. The Tower will use its remaining power to send you out before fading completely.]
"Thank you."
[It brings me joy that someone finally succeeded. The others... lost their minds long before reaching the halfway point.]
Dex did not respond. He had long accepted that madness was the price of eternity.
"Thank you for keeping me company."
[The Tower will vanish once you leave.]
Dex felt a sense of loss.
Not for a person, but for this place. This strange home. This prison that had saved him.
***
The light swallowed him. And when he opened his eyes, he was in the middle of a city he had never seen before.
The capital, Larion. A city that symbolized madness, hope, and new beginnings.
In his hand was a letter from Alef.
Dex broke the seal. His heart beat slowly.
＞ "Dex,
＞ If you're reading this, it means I didn't get to tell you in person.
＞ But it also means the necklace I gave you protected you.
＞ I'm proud of you, my son.
＞ I've prepared a birthday gift for you.
＞ I hope you like it."
Simple. Yet tears streamed down Dex's face.
"My son... yes."
A single word that buried the loneliness of a thousand years.
Then another letter.
His hands trembled as he opened it.
The emblem of Asa Academy was engraved on it—a letter of admission to the most prestigious academy in the world.
It wasn't a special admission. He still had to pass the entrance exam.
But that wasn't what mattered. This was a gift. A path from a father to his son. A symbol of trust.
Dex looked up at the sky.
"This is the beginning," he murmured. "Not the end."
He had lived a thousand years in waiting. Now, he would walk again. Not for revenge. But for his purpose, for hope, and for the love left behind in the simple form of a letter.
And the world, unknowingly, had just welcomed someone tempered by time, loss, and eternal hope.
Dex Lazuardi stepped forward, leaving the past behind, heading toward a new stage he had never imagined. Asa Academy, and the destiny he would carve with his own hands.