Ring! Riiing!
By the dawn, the alarm clock shuddered and rang out loudly, breaking the morning silence with its shrill tone. Nightingale stirred in his sleep, shifting uncomfortably across the bed. Finally, he rose and stretched his stiff body, though the unpleasant sting of being abruptly awakened lingered stubbornly.
Rays of the morning light filtered through the blinds, casting pale stripes across the room. Nightingale squinted against the brightness, rubbing his eyes as he tried to shake off the remnants of sleep. The quiet hum of the city outside signaled the start of another day, but his mind still lingered on the events of the night before.
"What a good way to start the day."
Setting aside his sarcastic muttering, he glanced to the side and noted the time glowing on the digital alarm clock.
[7:03 A.M.]
Nightingale let out a breath. The day had begun earlier than he would have liked, but there was no turning back now. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and planted his feet on the cold floor.
Rubbing his face, he ran a hand through his messy hair and muttered wearily under his breath:
"Ugh… coffee. Definitely need coffee."
Nightingale pushed himself up from the soft bed and made his way out of the room, descending the stairs and heading toward the kitchen. Upon arrival, he glanced around before opening a cabinet and pulled out a coffee mag.
He reached for the coffee maker, filling it with water and coffee grounds, then pressed the start button. The machine hummed to life, filling the air with the rich, bitter aroma he so desperately craved.
Leaning against the counter, he savored the anticipation of that first cup, feeling the warmth seep into his hands. The moment it touched his lips, the taste was nearly heavenly, lifting his mind briefly into a fleeting euphoria before it settled back into reality.
"Aah! Now that's some good coffee," Nightingale murmured to no one in particular with a satisfied smile curling his lips.
Following that, he carried the coffee mag, made his way to the living room and sat down on the sofa. His mind began drafting future plans.
"What should I do today? I should probably start getting ready for school… but I'm really not feeling it. Maybe I could call the principal and explain the situation. Taking a day off wouldn't hurt, right?"
He took another sip and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
"More importantly, now that my funds are looking decent, I should start making some long-term plans that'll actually benefit me in the future."
Reentering the Tower was inevitable, but after his last expedition, his corruption levels had dropped significantly. That meant he could afford to spend a bit more time within the Human Domain before returning.
However, there were several things Nightingale needed to sort out before his next descent.
First and foremost, he had to restock ammunition for both his pistol and revolver. If possible, acquiring new firearms wasn't entirely off the table. Automatic rifles and other heavy weaponry, though tempting, were out of the question. Granted, they'd make taking down Lesser Fiends much easier, but their weight posed a serious problem. Considering that the only means of travel within the Tower was one's own two feet, lugging around such cumbersome gear would only slow him down unnecessarily against enemies.
Secondly, he urgently needed to improve his physical attributes such as endurance, stamina, and overall conditioning. Becoming Awakened didn't grant limitless strength or infinite resilience, and Nightingale was no exception. During his previous descent, there had been moments when fatigue set in too quickly amidst brutal skirmishes. Improving his physical conditioning would not only allow him to sustain longer battles but also enhance his reflexes and reaction time, crucial factors when facing unpredictable foes deep within the Tower.
Beyond combat readiness, Nightingale knew he had to further refine his Mythic Abilities. Flatten had served him well on small objects, but confronting larger threats demanded versatility, finesse, and creative application. Equally important was identifying any hidden weaknesses like flaws he might not yet be aware of, so he wouldn't be caught off guard if his ability ever failed.
How could he hope to face greater threats when he didn't fully understand his own powers?
Setting aside the broader question of its limits, he resolved to experiment systematically to uncover both the full potential and hidden pitfalls of his Mythic Ability.
He also considered the intelligence side of preparation. Knowledge of the Tower's latest shifts, new enemy types, and rumored spawn zones could make the difference between a smooth expedition and a deadly one. Scouting reports, old notes, and system logs would be invaluable if he could secure them. Thankfully, all of the above could be found in the Association so exclusive searching was not necessary at all.
Finally, Nightingale paused, letting the coffee's warmth linger in his hands, and contemplated something that had been gnawing at him since his last descent: alliances. Working alone had its merits, but the Tower would undoubtedly grow more unpredictable the more he descended down its levels, and even an Awakened like him could benefit from temporary partnerships or at least useful information sources. He would have to weigh who was trustworthy, who was ambitious, and who could become a liability.
His consideration of forming any sort of alliance stemmed from the information he had indirectly obtained from Necessary. Apparently, a Fallen Demon had been moving freely between levels, which was a highly unusual occurrence and a serious cause for concern. The Knights had documented their encounter with the abominable creature and reported the incident.
In response, the Association would typically issue an emergency order and dispatch Masters — or, if possible, even Saints — to neutralize the threat. Then again, the Dark Knight was a mysterious entity that could move between floors.
Who could say where it might be hiding?
Perhaps it lingered somewhere on the lower floors of the Spire. Once the Masters or Saints completed their search and found nothing, the Knight would simply emerge from the shadows and resume its unholy patrol.
The greater the creature, the more intelligent it tended to be, so such behavior wouldn't be unnatural.
"Damnit! This is supposed to be my day off! Why am I even thinking about such matters or the Tower to begin with?!"
Nightingale grumbled bitterly, though there was no one around to hear him. Only the indifferent silence that seemed to mock his frustration.
It couldn't be helped.
Espers who had survived the horrors of the Black Spire would naturally prepare to face it again. Just like those who had acquired wealth, for instance, would inevitably use it to gain even more wealth.
The cycle repeated itself, always leading to the same inevitable outcome.
Combat. Blood. Tragedy.
No matter how he looked at it, this seemed to have become the pattern of his life moving forward.
He sighed.
The days ahead were shaping up to be far busier than he had hoped, but as always, preparation was half the battle. Nightingale drained the last of his coffee, set the empty mug aside, and allowed a small, determined smile to tug at his lips.
"Alright… time to get to work."
He rose and moved to the desk in the living room, opening a notebook and beginning to plan with meticulous care.