It’s like he’s underwater. A dark murky broken place, with light falling in from the cracks in the water.

  The thought in itself is insane, as how could water ever be cracked? And yet that is exactly what is happening. But isn’t this normal for a dream? Why is questioning it so much?

  Like a moth flying towards light, Adrian also keeps trying to swim past the dark waters and reach the cracks. The waters are turbulent, throwing him back to where he starts every time. Why is he trying to reach the cracks?

  A brief moment of respite later, Adrian throws himself against the waves again, trying harder and harder to reach the end, to merely graze past one of the cracks.

  He swims against the currents, against the dark murky waters. He rejects the waters, as if that thought in itself holds some value. He still does so, and swims towards the crack. And just as he’s a few inches away from the crack, as he can almost feel the light touching his fingers, an extraordinary tall wave roars and engulfs him.

  Adrian wakes up with a start. His bloodshot eyes open up, and instantly an endlessly piercing pain snaps at his temples. He closes his eyes and presses his hands to his side, hoping the headache would go away.

  His wish is delivered, as a green wave slowly radiates from his chest, soothing his mind.

  Adrian heaves a sigh of relief and once again dares to open his eyes. They are no longer bloodshot, just rosy pink. Ms. Amara sits by his side, drinking tea.

  Adrian tenderly and slowly begins to sit up. His vision still distorts and spins, and every jerk still brings him much pain, but with the practiced ease of a week’s recovery and practice, he finally sits up.

  “Some tea?” Amara asks in a low whisper. Adrian over the week has grown to very much appreciate her soft voice, as even the smallest sharp noises feels like a knife piercing his brain.

  “Yes please,” Adrian nods, and takes his own cup from her hands. The slight warmth radiating from the cup, its fragrant smell, and then the slight gralicky aftertaste of it all.

  Maybe I am becoming addicted to tea.

  Maybe addiction is a big word, but he wouldn’t mind some tea every day from now on.

  “How long have I been asleep for this time?”

  “A little over 10 hours. How’s sleep? Are you still getting restless dreams?”

  Adrian nods. He could’ve asked his skill, but Ms. Amara had advised to rely as little as he can on his skills during the recovery phase, as that inversely affect his recovery.

  It is honestly weird not using his skills for over a week now. Ever since he has gained his skills, he couldn’t imagine a single day where he hasn’t used them. Felt the mana flowing through him in that specific way as the skill dictates.

  It’s really a weird feeling. He cannot help but worry whether he would get rusty with his skills or not.

  “It’s part of the symptoms. With how heavily your mind has fractured, it’s a miracle you aren’t insomniac. That’d have increased the recovery by a few months at the very least. You’ll still need 2 months of recovery to fully recover though.”

  “Sorry doc, can’t do that,” Adrian flashes her a helpless smile, and focuses on the tea again.

  “Keep being persistent. Why do I even care?” Amara sighs, and sips at her drink too.

  “How’s your practice going?” She asks after a while.

  “It’s going. I think I’m getting a hang of holding onto the mana inside of me. It’s just taking a while to make it move as I want, or to where I want,” Adrian replies.

  “Don’t push yourself too much. Your progress is good. Just focus on meditating properly, and don’t let stray thoughts enter.”

  “I still don’t understand why you allow me to manipulate mana like this, but not through the skills. What’s the real difference?” Adrian asks.

  “The real difference wouldn’t do any good to you by knowing now. The only thing you need to know is that meditation is good and you should do more of it.” She stands up after her explanation, walking out of the cabin.

  Adrian sighs, and quickly finishes his tea. Feeling the warmth settle inside of him makes him less nauseous. With that done, he closes his eyes, and starts meditati-

  “Adrian, your friends are here,” Amara’s voice cuts through his meditation and he opens his eyes to see John, Matt and Ji-a in front of him.

  This is the third time Ji-a has come to see him, and the first time for the other two.

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  “Hey! How are you now?” Matt whispers excitedly, as they come to sit by my side. “I wanted to come see you earlier, but I had been a little busy.”

  “It’s alright. How are you two?” Adrian asks, to which John simply nods before looking around the cabin. Matt on the other hands starts talking about their time on the floor, and how much they hate the cold. They also talk about reuniting with their party after such a long time.

  That reminds me that the others are here. “They didn’t come, I guess?” Adrian asks, trying to keep the hurt away from his voice.

  Matt’s face becomes a complicated mess, as they stutter to come up with an answer, “They wanted to come, ofc they did. It’s just that everyone’s a little busy right now. Ritsu and Himari are busy with their research, while Finneas and Michael are preparing for ascension to the next floor. Maybe you can meet them there!”

  Matt’s voice grows louder with their lies, resulting in headaches for Adrian. Perhaps his face betrays the pain, but they suddenly grow quiet and sad.

  Standing up, they walk outside. Ji-a follows them after gesturing to Adrian. Only John remains now.

  “Some of them are scared,” John says.

  “I know,” Adrian sighs. He should’ve expected it. Perhaps he had expected something like this, but he just didn’t wish to accept such an outcome.

  “I guess mingling with people who have been corrupted by the Revolutionaries is too much for them, huh,” Adrian looks at John, “Although the church says that I didn’t go through the process, they are still afraid.”

  “That is true. Although it’s not all of them. Himari wanted to meet you, Finneas too, but Ritsu persuaded them otherwise,” John answers.

  “It must’ve been the same with you then, you don’t seem nearly as bothered,” Adrian says.

  “I’ve never much cared for them as you seem to do. I could travel alone and take care of myself. The only reason I’m still here is because it’s a little less boring this way.” John shrugs, sitting on the bench that Matt vacated.

  “Do you hate them for it?” John asks.

  “...maybe. I cannot tell,” Adrian stays silent for a moment after those words, before speaking again, “Matt doesn’t seem to be much scared,”

  “Matt’s different. You know about their childhood, right? They’ve been through their own battles, their own loneliness, and knows what’s it like for someone to be ignored just because they are different due to reason which were never under their control.

  “Matt tries too hard. I’ve seen them try to persuade the others to come see you countless times, either directly or indirectly. But they are also afraid of going too far and losing them as well,” John says.

  Adrian stays silent, apprehensive over the whole situation. His own reaction during the 2nd floor reflect in his eyes now, and he realises how pathetic he had been.

  Trying to find a new family in strangers by abandoning the ones who were his real family for his own prejudice and stubbornness. He remembers Leah’s words, his own reactions to them, and confirms in his heart how utterly pathetic of a person he is.

  How he has lost both of them now over his insistence.

  Adrian sighs deeply, his head pounding against the temples only seem to fit the kind of punishment someone as pathetic as him should deserve. How deprived am I of love that I must seek it in others? Do I even deserve love? Someone like me?

  Adrian chuckles self depriciatingly. This must be a terrible attraction as well. My need towards being loved.

  After a while, the other two enter back in the room. They talk for a while, and when his strength starts to wane and drowsiness overcomes him, they say their goodbye and leave.

  Adrian stays in his bed, eyes open for a long time. His own self depreciation makes him care less and less about his approaching death. Why should he fight so desperately, why should he fight at all? Does he even deserve to life?

  Such thoughts keep spinning in his head for a long time until he realises that he has come to a standstill with himself. As the thought reaches him, Adrian realises something else.

  It’s not because he’s unlovable; unable to be accepted by people. It’s all the Tower’s fault which has twisted the world like this around him. Yes, he’s pathetic. Yes, he’s pitiful. But so is the world. So is the world who dances to the tune of a God and its tool.

  The only way to actually fix this world and myself is to destroy the Tower. It cannot exist any longer. It should not exist any longer.

  As the conviction settles within him, his trembling heart finally calms down, and he finally starts to fall asleep. He can only save the world, and destroy the Tower if he recovers. If he stays alive.

  And as he once again enters the dream world, swimming against the currents, his conviction shines within him. Yes, to achieve all that, he needs to pierce through the cracks. That is the only way, a voice within him tells him. Without questioning the voice, Adrian begins his efforts.

  For what feels like eternity, he starts to push back against the currents, the black waves which wouldn’t let him pass through. Perhaps it’s his newly realized conviction which gives him the strength, or the voice in his head, but he slowly starts to inch closer and closer to the crack with every attempt.

  This time he feels unimaginably closer to the crack. As he floats in place and looks at the closest crack in front of him, he feels like he can take it in his palms if he just stretched it.

  As if unwilling to let him go, the black water churns even more ferociously. It tunrs and splits, creating several whirlpools in his path with such depth that Adrian feels his mind going blank at their sheer size.

  Perhaps exaggeration is a feature of dreams too.

  Realising this, Adrian quickly settles his mind, and begins his one last attempt.

  His mind churns and his hands swim forward. The cracks tremble, and a splitting headache reaches him all the way in the dreams. But he doesn’t stop. The trembling increases, reaching a frequency where the cracks seem to leave afterimages.

  The whirlpools deepen and seem to want to engulf the entirety of him, but Adrian continue swimming around them.

  How long has he been swimming for? He should’ve reached one of the cracks a long time ago, but as exaggeration is an inherent property of dreams, it takes him a long time. And then he finally seizes the crack in his hand.

  It’s less like holding onto lightning and more like holding onto smoke.

  Adrian is surprised at it, momentarily feeling like his efforts have been betrayed. And then his mind transforms.

  He flows into the crack, like a black hole within the mist swallowing him up, and Adrian doesn’t try to resist the pull. There’s this feeling of reassurance in the pull. Like he’s reuniting with an old part of him.

  When the transformation settles and he opens his eyes, he finds himself in a world of hazy mist where infinite colours and knowledge hides. They reveal themselves for mere milliseconds like glitches before disappearing back in the mist.

  Adrian stands stunned. He knows this place. Although he has never been here, he has seen it often. Every year, during the grand ritual.

  This is the Spirit Realm.