"Yawn… I've heard that a million times now," Rye muttered, lowering his head onto his hand, elbows resting on the table. His face pressed into his palm, a mixture of boredom and amusement.
"Isn't that like… the beginning of the Climbers?"
Hawk grinned, holding out his phone like he was about to prove a point.
"Yeah, but I just can't get enough of it! The heroes who'd already seen hell on the first floor… and they still went back to guide everyone else! Can you imagine that?"
Rye peeked at the screen but let his head droop again.
"Yeah… sounds exhausting."
Hawk chuckled, scrolling through tale after tale of the first generation of Climbers, the nine people who had changed the world.
"It's amazing, though. Today's March 3, 2025 the celebration of the ones who set it all in motion. They risked everything, and now… look at how far we've come."
Rye finally lifted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"I guess… heroes like that don't come around very often."
He turned his gaze toward the window of the cafe. Outside, the black tower loomed over the city, its massive silhouette piercing the sky. Streets below were alive with confetti, banners, and people celebrating. Centuries had passed since the tower first appeared, and the world had changed dramatically, especially after the first successful venture.
"Man, I wish I could climb that tower someday," Hawk said, his eyes glued to his phone.
A faint shadow crossed his expression.
"But we're still students, y'know? Even if we wanted to, we can't get anywhere near the entrance."
"Mhm…" Rye murmured, still staring at the tower. Floating vehicles hummed above the city, and strange machines zipped past, their sleek forms catching the sunlight.
"It's… beautiful to look at from here, you know?"
Hawk's grin returned.
"Oh! You wanna hear about the first generation in the other six towers too?"
"Hell nah," Rye groaned, finally raising his head. He slammed his hand on the table, shaking off the half-sleep he'd been in.
"Give me a break. I've heard enough about Brookvein for a gazillion times, especially from you."
Hawk laughed, clearly unbothered.
"Suit yourself, sleepyhead. But one day, we're gonna see it for ourselves."
"Enough of that. Let's go down," Rye said, stretching and adjusting his bag as they stepped out of the cafe.
Outside, the street was a riot of color and motion. Vendors lined both sides of the road, their stalls overflowing with fruits, exotic foods, trinkets, and charms that hummed with faint magical energy. Spices mingled with the scent of grilled meats, sizzling oils, and freshly baked bread, creating a mouthwatering haze. People crowded the street, chatting, laughing, and moving in all directions. Some floated effortlessly above the crowd, propelled by glowing magic, weaving gracefully between the banners fluttering overhead.
"Let's get something before heading back to school," Hawk said, rubbing his stomach and scanning the chaos with a grin.
Rye followed, hands casually tucked behind his head, strolling leisurely as they were met with an endless parade of calls and pitches.
"Fresh baked mooncakes! Get 'em while they're warm! Sizzle sizzle!" one vendor shouted, steam rising from his tray.
"Drizzled teriyaki! Sweet, spicy, hot off the grill! Clang clang!" another barked, waving a sizzling skewer in their direction.
"Magical trinkets! One charm for luck, only five coins! Ting ting!" a young girl called, a tiny glowing charm hovering beside her, pulsing softly in the sunlight.
"Flying sweets! Catch them in the air if you can! Whoosh!" a man tossed candy into the sky, and little glowing spheres floated around the children running below.
"Man, very lively around here," Rye murmured, more to himself than Hawk, as he leaned back slightly and took in the scene, watching vendors shout, people haggle, and the occasional flash of magic zip past overhead.
Hawk elbowed him lightly.
"Don't just stare, grab something.! You're gonna regret it if we're late for school again."
-----
They had bought more than they expected, their arms and bags overflowing.
"Shit… my allowance for the month, almost gone," Rye muttered, shifting the weight on his shoulders.
Hawk laughed loudly.
"Well, what did you expect? Everything here is amazing! You can't just complain about enjoying it!"
Rye rolled his eyes but didn't argue.
Suddenly, a surge of people slammed into the street like a tidal wave. Thump! Thump! Thud! Bam! Rye was shoved sideways, bags swinging violently.
"Oh crap!" he shouted, getting jostled in every direction.
"Holy shit!" Hawk yelled, dodging and stumbling over a toppled stall.
Rye was pushed relentlessly, shoving past bodies and bumping into carts. A cart tipped over, spilling glowing sweets into the street. Clatter! Clink! Pop! Confetti and wrappers flew everywhere as he tumbled into a narrow alleyway.
He hit the ground with a grunt, sliding a few feet, then sat up, brushing confetti, scraps of paper, and dirt off his clothes.
"Goddamnit… where the hell did that horde come from?!" he muttered.
He patted his clothes and checked his bags, trying to get his bearings.
"Where the hell did Hawk go?" he called, scanning the street beyond the alley, but the crowd had swallowed him.
A faint clink came from deeper in the alley. Rye froze. Curiosity pricked at him.
He edged toward the sound, carefully stepping over trash and discarded papers. There, half-buried beneath a pile of refuse, lay a book. Old. Leather-bound. Worn smooth by time, its edges frayed, its surface coated in dust. It looked like it had survived a hundred years or more.
"Rye! Where are you?" Hawk's voice carried again from somewhere beyond the alley.
Rye glanced back, snatched the book, and tucked it safely into his bag without a word.
"Coming!" he called, sprinting toward Hawk's voice, weaving through the crowd that had begun to thi