The Storm Wolf: Gathering Clouds - chapter 2 Tower- 2.1
Imported from SF2 with no description.
Tower: Sudden changes, disasters, accidents essentially, something like that.
I was floating in that empty space.
Ah, I blacked out on the bed yesterday without taking the blue capsule.
I scratched my head in frustration, regretting my indulgence—even skipping both dinner and a shower before passing out. I took back all my previous curiosity about what it would be like to let emotions override reason, reluctantly admitting that I had an impulsive side too. But speaking of which, that surge of passion felt like an overwhelming tide, welling up from the emptiest parts of my soul, endlessly filling me...
I pressed my palm to my chest, evoking memories of being gently caressed. It made my ears droop uncontrollably as I curled up into a ball and covered my head with my tail.
Rationalism, will this make things more complicated between me and senpai in the future?
Damn, I don’t want to think about these things right now! As a psychic, wishing that sleep could simply be a time to rest is such a luxury!
I don’t think I have any particular "virgin complex," but the first time does feel a bit peculiar. It’s not really good or bad—more of a “oh, so that’s what it’s like” feeling. I’m not sure if I had been expecting some romantic, dreamlike scenario, but this is probably what people mean by reality. Besides… hmm… before passing out, senpai made me go three more times. So, does that count as four times in total, or is it all just one big event? If it’s considered one, then overall it wasn’t bad—it didn’t suck at least, right? Then again, isn’t counting climaxes a bit weird?
I furiously scratched at my hair, unable to understand why I was suddenly thinking about these things. Whatever the reason, I was sure I didn’t want to dwell on it any longer.
Sighing, I straightened up, determined to find something—anything around me—to distract myself.
Interestingly enough, I managed to step onto a solid surface, and thankfully, I was wearing sturdy boots this time, sparing me from stepping on the cold ground like before.
It was then that I noticed something unusual about this typically empty space.
Aside from a layer of hazy red covering everything like a blood-colored mist, there was an enormous tower standing before me, towering far beyond what my eyes could see. The tower’s structure looked ancient, as if made from some old, weathered stone. But I knew that was just the image in my mind. Such a colossal structure, making visitors seem like tiny ants, was probably not even a “tower” in the conventional sense.
Based on these prominent features, I immediately knew where I was.
“The Tower of Time,” “The Sky Tower,” “The Dungeon,” “The Rank”—everyone had their own names for this enigmatic entity, but the most commonly used and straightforward term remained simply “the Tower.”
No one knows exactly what it is; we only know that the Tower is likely not composed of physical matter—not in the way we understand it, at least. All attempts to analyze its material composition have failed—analytical devices simply don’t work in this space, and practically nothing from within the Tower can be brought back to the academy—practically nothing.
The first known item on the list of what can be brought back is adamantine. Others include mithril, orichalcum, and on rare occasions, some particularly strong or lucky Tower explorers can find exotic matter.
A large portion of the Academy’s operations rely on resources harvested from the Tower. Many cadets earn points primarily through contributing materials, either by selling them to the Academy or trading with other cadets, forming a unique primary industry. Of course, some people engage in different levels of industry through processing, refining, or research. Overall, the Academy’s entire economic system revolves around the Tower.
Staring at the entrance, I worried that approaching it would be a foolish decision.
It was alarming that the Tower had its own projection in Tel’aran’rhiod. The unpredictable changes of ordinary objects in the dream world were already unsettling enough, and I wasn’t sure if I truly wanted to find out what this unfathomable entity would become within Tel’aran’rhiod.
Though I’d never been to any floor beyond the lobby, as first-year cadets are prohibited from climbing the Tower. Even when I had the chance to enter the Tower, I served solely as a “Beacon,” stationed near the entrance to fulfill my duties.
The Tower possesses its own realm of consciousness—a powerful and tyrannical one—and the higher you ascend, the stronger it becomes. When operational zones are located at heights unbearable for regular members, “Beacon” are usually enlisted to extend their domains wide enough for the team to function within.
The Master Field had approved my request to climb the Tower. After completing a few commissions left, I should begin exploring this mysterious structure myself.
For everyone, the Tower differs slightly. Not just in appearance, but beyond a certain height, its internal structure can change depending on who enters. However, it’s said that if you climb high enough, you’ll find what you’re searching for...
So, what would it be for me?
Heavy footsteps nearby pulled me out of my thoughts. This was the first time I had noticed another presence in Tel’aran’rhiod.
Turning toward the source of the sound, I saw a wolf with pure white fur standing about four meters away, tilting its head and observing me. Its bright red eyes were hard to read, but from its stance, with one hand resting on the hilt of its sword, I figured it must be Snow.
When both eyes are entirely red, distinguishing between gray wolves with solid-colored fur becomes an incredibly challenging task. And identifying individuals by scent from a safe distance is impossible.
So even though I felt slightly ashamed of instinctively tucking my tail, I maintained a neutral greeting stance, lowering my ears to show that I wasn’t a threat. After all, this figure might not be who they appeared to be—this was Tel’aran’rhiod.
The unidentified Snow didn’t respond to my greeting but continued staring at me. Hoping to further demonstrate my good intentions, I raised a hand to approach, but he immediately stepped back and drew his sword, taking up a defensive stance.
It was the starting stance for Frost—a clear indication that this was indeed Snow or some highly skilled mimic. It seemed he had the same concerns as I did.
I cautiously extended my consciousness, attempting to communicate directly or at least confirm his identity through the pulse patterns, but as our domains touched, a powerful resonance erupted in my mind. In the next instant, it felt as though I was being hurled at incredible speed in one direction; all the surroundings compressed into a single point, and then everything returned to pitch-black nothingness.