'Thinking of which,' Kael muttered, 'Do I have to return to the sun clan?" The question came from a practical place, not a dramatic one. It wasn't a rebellion. It was logistics.
The idea germinated in his head, after all, the boss of that camp already knows that John and Kael left together, he wouldn't trust the newcomer Kael even if he told him what happened, and worst case he'll probably order Kael to show him the black building.
And the same situation with John would repeat itself. Only next time, the person demanding a share might have more allies, more leverage, more patience. Next time, Kael might not be able to walk away.
Kael had no obligation to do any of that, return or help... he didn't sign any contract to join them.
He leaned against the wall and thought that he'll probably have to simply rely on himself instead of staying with a group to be ordered around like someone's dog. You might lose the benefit of being in a group, protection, but also you're risking being stabbed in the back.
He understood the appeal of belonging. He understood the comfort of someone else taking the first watch, of someone else drawing attention first, of someone else being the one the goblins jumped on. But comfort was expensive, and the price tag was trust. The Tower had just shown him what trust cost when the other person's greed was stronger than their fear.
And from what just happened with John, it was far better to rely on himself. At least this way he won't have to blame anyone if he were to die in some random ditch, not to mention he has his own map that is already help enough. There was no need to get into complicated scenarios now.
The map was a quiet advantage, and he treated it like one. He didn't daydream about glory. He daydreamed about not being surprised, about not walking into a swarm, about not turning a corner and finding a blade aimed for his ribs.
Time went by, slow, extremely so. Kael couldn't simply tell the time; he had no way to do so, and the building blocked all forms of light coming in from outside, even if there was any, so he put his head on his tool bag and tried to close his eyes.
The bag smelled faintly of sweat and dust, familiar in a way that made his chest tighten. He listened to his own breathing in the darkness and tried not to think too hard about how easy it would be to fall asleep and never wake up if the Tower decided that was how his story ended. Eventually, fatigue won anyway, heavy and unavoidable, dragging him down into a shallow, restless sleep.
****
Kael woke up sometime later, and when he checked his map, he noticed that all the red dots had turned a deeper, darker, and grayer red and were all gathered in one place. Underneath the building he was in, this was the indication that they went to sleep, meaning that a new day had begun. He sat there for a moment, staring at the cluster, letting the information settle.
Sleep.
Even monsters slept. Even the swarm had rhythms. That meant patterns, and patterns meant planning. He rolled his shoulders, feeling stiffness and the lingering phantom memory of the trial's weight, then forced his body awake fully, the way he used to force himself up for work when he'd rather stay dead in bed.
He stood up, checked his inventory once again, held his newly repaired crowbar in his hand, and moved toward the Exit sign.
He took a couple of deep breaths, deciding if this was the right thing to do. If he should stay longer, but soon simply shook his head. He can't be too passive. He must start taking a serious role in owning his own life and his own survival.
He pushed the door of the exit open. The crowbar in his hand felt cleaner, smoother, like it belonged to a better version of his life, but it was still a crowbar. But right now it acted as something else. It was his only weapon.
He gripped it tighter as the door creaked, the sound oddly loud in the stillness, and cold air brushed his face as the outside finally spilled in. This time, he had a plan, instead of being guided by circumstances. He needs to first gather the money or the currency needed to repay the goblin at the shop for the map.
And then gather more currency to pay for his own survival ticket out of this floor. The plan wasn't grand. It wasn't heroic. It was the kind of plan a man made when he wanted to keep breathing tomorrow.
Just as Kael opened the door, a new notification appeared in front of him.
[You have completed Ulsal's challenge, the trail area will now disappear.]
For half a heartbeat, he didn't understand what that meant. Then the ground vibrated under his boots, the air shifting like the world itself was inhaling.
The entire building began rumbling like there was no tomorrow as it simply vanished from behind Kael who was on the streets. It didn't crumble. It didn't collapse in pieces. It just ceased, as if a hand had erased it from the map.
The sensation of open space hit him like a shove. Wind and daylight that had been blocked now poured over him, exposing him in an instant.
And just a that happened, the gray dots began turning red. The change rippled across his minimap like a sickness spreading. The building that was shading them from the daylight had simply disappeared, and the cause of such a thing was standing stunned, looking at them.
Kael stood there for a fraction too long, crowbar in hand, feeling the stupid shock of it, as if the Tower had waited until the exact moment he felt ready to remind him that readiness meant nothing. Outside, shapes shifted, heads turned, bodies stirred in the light. The swarm's attention was oriented toward the one new thing in their world.
Him.