Tower of Paradise

I knew facing a creature in mid-evolution would require far more than brute strength. I decided to ignore Alice’s superficial hostility and focus on the logic behind her attitude. It was clear she’d lost comrades before, likely in a traumatic way. Her toughness was a defense mechanism to avoid forming emotional connections that could become weaknesses on the battlefield. A understandable strategy, though potentially counterproductive in terms of operational efficiency.

—Got it. But I have one condition: you’ll share all relevant mission information. I can’t follow orders effectively if I don’t understand the full picture.

Alice narrowed her eyes, sizing me up as if I were a complex puzzle. For a moment, I feared I’d crossed an invisible line, but then her lips curled into a half-smile.

—You’re not as dumb as you look —she conceded—. Fine, I’ll tell you what you need to know, but nothing more. Now, let’s move. The place where the Evolutionary Container was spotted is about two hours’ walk from here.

I nodded, satisfied with this small progress, and we resumed our path. The gray, weathered stone buildings lined both sides of the street, casting long shadows that seemed like dark fingers reaching toward us. Narrow channels carried murky water that gave off an unpleasant odor, a mix of industrial waste and organic debris.

As we advanced, I noticed a vendor’s stall where a man, short like a child due to some genetic mutation common in this area, slept slumped in his chair, completely oblivious to his surroundings. As if confirming my suspicions, a young man passed by quickly and, with the agility of a trained feline, swiped a piece of fruit without being noticed. I calculated he’d probably perfected this maneuver dozens of times, honing his technique until it was nearly imperceptible to the untrained eye.

—Stay still.

The gruff voice came from another nearby stall. I saw a small, strange mutant locked in a rusty cage, while a dangerous-looking man with scars crisscrossing his face like a map of violence sat atop it, idly toying with a dagger whose blade reflected the dim daylight.

The mutant shifted restlessly within its prison but seemed to have no escape. Its eyes, too large for its face, reflected a terrified intelligence. I wondered if it was aware of its likely fate, perhaps as an ingredient in some illegal potion or as an exotic pet for a corrupt noble.

Farther along, a man meticulously inspected the edge of a newly acquired sword, running his thumb along the blade with deliberate slowness, satisfied with his purchase. I wasn’t surprised to see several men harassing women in what appeared to be a brothel, where the workers wore tight, provocative clothing designed to attract potential clients. Their forced smiles hid vacant gazes, a silent testament to lives marked by desperation and survival at any cost.

The landscape gradually transformed as we moved away from the bustling area and the trading stalls. The new area was desolate, devoid even of the city’s usual vagrants. The buildings, many destroyed and abandoned, with broken windows that looked like empty eyes watching us, gave Danafor an even grimmer air. It was never a pleasant city, but this zone seemed the epitome of its decay.

—Ugh, so annoying. Why is the first thing I do after returning from a mission another mission? —Alice grumbled as we approached the entrance of a particularly large building that resembled a natural fortress, with eroded yet still sturdy walls.

—What? Don’t want to work? —I asked, eyeing a tightly shut iron door looming before us. I followed Alice with a rigid expression, keeping my face neutral despite the growing tension I felt.

At first glance, the iron door looked heavy, and Alice pushed it with both hands. A cloud of rust flaked off, forming a small reddish haze that floated briefly in the air. She left it open just enough for one person to pass through. She entered the building as if strolling through a park, with a confidence that seemed almost reckless given the circumstances.

When I followed her inside, I saw wide, gray corridors reminiscent of Danafor’s streets, and clear stones glowing from above, casting faint light on the halls and projecting strange shadows that seemed to move with a life of their own. The entire building was heavily deteriorated, with cracks snaking across the walls like dark veins, unable to withstand the relentless passage of time.

—It’s like a haunted house —Alice clicked her tongue in annoyance, her voice echoing slightly in the empty space.

—More importantly…

—Shut up, brat.

Just as I was about to ask Alice something, she raised her hand and frowned, focusing intensely. Her immediate reaction put me on high alert, all my senses sharpening.

Suddenly, a faint, trembling voice echoed. It seemed to come from far away, but it was clearly the sound of someone in deep suffering, a noise that raised the hairs on my neck and quickened my pulse.

—Crying? —I murmured, more to myself than to Alice.

We fell into absolute silence to confirm, and the corridor was enveloped in an unsettling stillness for a moment. Then our faces hardened as we heard it again, clearer this time, a wail that didn’t seem entirely human.

—I’m feeling a bit uneasy too.

—Is that so?

I was worried for a moment, but Alice decided to press forward with confidence. We couldn’t just stand there, and I could clearly sense if danger was approaching. I could feel it even without using any spells. There was an aura of pure malice permeating the air, almost tangible. I was nervous, though I tried not to show it. It felt as if someone were gripping my throat and slowly choking me, an invisible pressure that grew with every step we took.