Patricia pointed toward a massive, cylindrical structure that pierced the sky, the hundred floor Fantasy Tower.
"See that tower? You will go there tomorrow morning, 9 AM sharp. Present your key, and you will be registered as a player for Season Two. Don't be late."
She looked him over one last time, clearly noting how thin he was. With a dismissive sigh, she turned to Lumiere.
"Throw him a bag of food and water."
Lumiere complied, "Yes, Miss Patricia," he said, tossing a big package toward Aedes.
He caught it instantly, faster than he had caught the fantasy key earlier. As he looked down, he noticed Patricia's face printed on the packaging. For the first time, he smiled.
He looked back at her. "T-thank you…"
Patricia blinked, visibly surprised, a faint blush touching her cheeks.
"So you're not mute after all."
Her expression hardened again as she delivered her final words. "And don't let this act of kindness make you think you'll get another stroke of luck or any help from me. Once we step into that Tower, we are competitors, and frankly, I will be looking forward to seeing you die on the first floor for the views."
The window instantly zipped up, and the Raspberry Rhino sped away, leaving Aedes utterly alone on the sidewalk with the key, food and water and the staggering promise of one billion dollars.
Inside the vehicle, Lumiere glanced into the rearview mirror, noticing the distant look in Patricia's eyes.
"Are you alright, Miss Patricia?" he asked softly. "Would you like more jasmine tea? You seem to be... elsewhere."
Patricia stared out at the passing lights, her reflection looking ghostly against the tinted glass. "No, Lumiere. It's just..." She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Do you think he'll even make it to the morning? The real monsters aren't inside the Tower. They're out here, hunting in the alleys."
She didn't wait for an answer, her gaze turning cold as she checked her social media metrics. She had done her part; if he died tonight, it was simply "bad luck."
The scene shifted abruptly to a modest, bustling apartment. In the small kitchen, the boy in the prestigious academy uniform, the same one who had shared his bread with Aedes was busy distributing rolls to his seven siblings. The air was filled with chatter until the flickering television in the corner caught everyone's attention.
"...and the winner of the final Fantasy Tower Key is… wait… is that a homeless boy? Where did he even come from?!"
"No way!" A tomboyish girl, the second oldest, suddenly pointed a finger at the screen, reacting dramatically. "El, look! A homeless kid? He actually snagged the last key!? I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!"
Eligant froze, a piece of bread still in his hand, and turned toward the screen. His eyes widened. He recognized that face, the grime streaked cheeks, the dark, haunting eyes. It was the boy from the alley. The one he had just defended.
"Wait... that's him..?"
Eligant whispered, his shock evident. His sister laughed, throwing an arm around his neck and playfully squeezing his shoulder.
"Well, look at that! That's one of the players you're going to be competing against tomorrow, Mr. Top-Ranked Student!"
She let out a mock serious gasp, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "You better not, under any circumstances, let yourself be outshone by him! If a guy who fights rats for breakfast reaches the final boss before you, you might as well drop out of school and join him on the street! We'll save you a cardboard box!"
The other siblings erupted into giggles, but Eligant didn't laugh. He looked at Aedes, who was now standing in a pillar of blinding light. While the rest of the world saw a fluke, a "homeless kid," or a lucky beggar, Eligant saw something else.
Inside a high tech gym, a man stood alone in a sleek octagon. His physique was a mass of intimidating, ripped muscle that looked as if it might burst through his skin. Around his neck, a familiar and ornate Fantasy Key hung from a heavy steel chain.
He was systematically destroying a kinetic punching bag. With every strike, a digital display on the wall flashed the force of his impact. On a nearby monitor, Patricia's tinny voice cut through the air.
"…we have found the final player for Fantasy Tower Season Two! Don't forget to tune in tomorrow! The second season of the Fantasy Tower officially begins!"
A final roundhouse kick sent the sensors into a frenzy until the bag's internal systems hissed in failure. The man stopped, his breath heavy, and stared at the high definition image of Aedes on the screen. He let out a short, cynical bark of laughter.
"Seriously? They let a street rat grab the last key? The final spot for the greatest challenge in the world goes to some poor bastard!"
He scoffed, flexing his scarred hands as he stepped out of the ring. He walked over to a polished table and wiped the sweat from his brow. Picking up a remote, he cranked the volume, his eyes fixed on the live interview playing on the screen.
"HA! This is pure comedy! Just look at him— the kid looks like a skeleton. That last key was a total waste."
He leaned in closer to the screen, his shadow looming over the image of the shivering boy. A dark, arrogant grin spread across his face.
"That boy doesn't bring any challenge to me. The 100th floor is totally mine."
Far from the noise and judgment, a young woman with long, vibrant green hair knelt quietly inside a small, beautifully maintained church, bathed in the soft glow of stained glass windows. She was dressed simply, her hands clasped tightly around another Fantasy Key, which rested gently on the worn wooden pew. Her eyes were closed in prayer, her posture one of deep sincerity and humble devotion.
She whispered softly into the peaceful silence. "Please, grant me the strength to endure what is coming. Not for glory, but for the chance to change things for the orphans. Give me the wisdom to follow the path I must take."
The quiet was suddenly broken by the sound of sneakers hitting stone. A teenage boy from the orphanage burst through the heavy oak doors, her face red with excitement.
"Sister Sierra! You won't believe it!"
Sierra's eyes snapped open, and she let out a long sigh. She turned toward the boy, her expression firm but kind.
"Eduard, how many times have I told you? When someone is praying, you must not interrupt. This is a house of silence."
"I know, I know! I'm sorry!" Eduard gasped, clutching his chest to catch his breath. "But the news is too good! The final key, the free one, just like yours has been claimed! You won't be the only 'nobody' in there anymore!"
Sierra's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"A homeless boy, Sierra! A kid from the streets got it!" Eduard exclaimed, thrusting his phone forward. "The whole internet is losing it. They're calling him a miracle, a mistake, or… a disaster!"
Sierra gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. She looked at the screen, seeing the dirt smothered face of Aedes as he clutched his crimson stained key.
Across the city, in private rooms, opulent homes, and humble spaces alike, countless others who had secured their entry keys echoed the same word. Workers, students, young and old each voicer voices filled with anticipation and dread.
"Tomorrow. The Fantasy Tower Season Two will open its gates!"