When I was young, I was forcibly separated from my older brother, and I grew up rough.
I faced countless assassination attempts from half-siblings, and at tis, I was the one doing the assassinating. To survive, I had to be strong.
Sotis that ant throwing my body into brutal fights; other tis, it ant cutting off soone's head and presenting it to another as proof.
It wasn't a childhood I could ever call happy.
Even after growing up—after becoming a Ranker—I always felt sorry toward my younger self. Sorry that, at an age when I should have been running freely through flower fields, I had been forced to live through sothing so cruel.
As I moved between branch families and the main family, the Arie children I saw were always the sa. They weren't much different from my own childhood. Constant competition, endless intrigue, and those who lost were cast into the abyss. Every ti I saw that, it left a bitter taste in my mouth.
That was why those four were different—unlike anything I had ever seen.
Centered around one bold and strong child, four siblings gathered together, playing closely as one. It was like seeing a dream made real—one I had occasionally imagined: If only I'd had the power, maybe I could have had a happy childhood too.
They looked happy.
And they truly were.
The two boys protected the two girls while they were still weak, and whenever they were together, laughter always blood. They genuinely grew up showing sibling affection, living happily.
I envied them deeply.
And at the sa ti, I was glad. Glad to realize that sothing like this could exist in this family. I wished that happiness would stay with them forever. I wished the fence around the flower garden where they played would never break.
Perhaps out of selfish satisfaction—perhaps because of that—I wanted to protect those four no matter what.
Even though things had already gone wrong, I still hoped they would find happiness.
Little ones—live well. For my share, too.
That was Arie Leblanc's reflection—her monologue, her wish—at the mont she pierced her own heart with her sword.
Until the very end, even as a soul, she protected the three children.
....
99th Floor – Damage Recovery at the Workshop
Floating vessels cleared the wreckage of the partially destroyed buildings while discussing reconstruction plans.
The 99th Floor was in complete turmoil.
Watching it all from afar stood a middle-aged man.
"…It's horrific. Even for us."
Click.
He lit a cigarette.
....
44th Floor – The Final Station
"…."
The rain still poured down.
Thunder roared.
The ceiling remained dark and clouded.
No. No. No. No. Why them?
Why her?
Why did they have to die?
My unfocused eyes could only stare at Hawol standing in front of .
"…The bodies of others are still being searched for, but Lady Leblanc's body has been found. If you wish, we can prepare her so you may see her face one last ti."
"…."
"Please contact anyti."
"W–Wait. Just a mont."
I grabbed Hawol's arm as he turned to leave.
"V–Vicente? Albelda? Anna? They haven't been found, right? Then maybe… maybe they're still alive sowhere—"
As the words left my mouth, hope blood against my will.
Yes. Maybe—no, surely—
"All pocket life signals were cut off. And… the explosion originated from the floating stone core. The probability of survival is… regretfully, none."
Hope turned into despair in an instant.
I knew it already. So why had I said sothing so aningless?
Hawol left, leaving only despair behind.
Why did you even co?
I wish I'd stayed ignorant.
At so point, I realized it clearly—what was running down my face wasn't rain.
After Hawol left, I stood there for a long ti.
Eventually, soone called out to from behind.
It was Maschenny.
"Hoaquin, what are you doing, getting soaked in the rain like—"
She froze mid-sentence when I turned toward her.
The usually cold Maschenny looked visibly shaken and stepped closer.
"Wh–what happened to you…"
Good timing.
I had sothing to say.
"Maschenny."
"…What?"
"I think I need to go up ahead first."
"What?"
"Tell Hwarang and Luf as well."
With those words, I leapt from the balcony, spreading my wings.
As fast as possible.
I had to reach the 99th Floor.
Now.
"Hoaquin, wait!"
She tried to stop , but she couldn't fly.
....
Before entering the Tower, I grew up in an orphanage.
My birthday was the day the headmistress found . Abandoned as a newborn, I naturally didn't know my parents or relatives.
Family was a distant concept to .
But since I never had one to begin with, I never truly felt sorrow over it either. I only envied other families from ti to ti.
Then, inside the Tower, I found my first family.
Even if our mothers were different, we shared the sa father. To , they were all family.
We treated each other as such. And for the first ti, I learned how happy having a family could be.
They were precious friends who helped adapt to the Tower—my first family.
The people who were my entire childhood.
I climbed the Tower believing we would et again soday.
And then, once more, I lost my family.
Only then did I truly understand.
Only then did I feel it.
How painful loss truly is.
The pillars holding up collapsed.
I had to go to the 99th Floor.
As fast as possible.
Even though rationally, I knew there was nothing left there for , I ignored it all.
If my family disappeared there, then I had to go.
Disappeared.
Missing.
They couldn't be dead.
There was no way.
We were ssaging each other just a week ago. I had seen them alive with my own eyes.
So what right did Hawol have to declare them dead?
I climbed the Tower.
I killed my way through the tests.
I didn't want this.
I wasn't originally a resident of the Tower.
I didn't want to beco a butcher just because I had power.
But I had no ti.
I justified myself, knowing full well it was just an excuse.
It was the fastest way.
I climbed.
FUG.
Hawol said the 99th Floor incident was caused by FUG.
They dared to touch my family.
Anyone linked to FUG—I killed them.
It beca a warning. And revenge.
I killed dozens, then hundreds per floor.
Even Rankers fell.
People began calling a butcher who slaughtered FUG.
It didn't feel good.
Soone from Zahard's royal family even ca once.
I climbed.
I hid behind words like necessity and revenge while walking a road paved with corpses.
But it ant nothing.
It was just escape.
I always knew.
From the mont Hawol spoke.
I climbed.
And finally accepted it.
Vicente.
Albelda.
Anna.
Leblanc.
All dead.
They weren't coming back.
The explosion of the floating stone core—no one but Rankers could survive that.
I was tired.
Tired of clinging to hope that didn't exist.
Tired of aningless slaughter.
Tired of climbing without purpose.
Once, I dread of becoming a Ranker quickly.
To travel the Tower with my family.
To live peacefully for thousands of years.
A simple, happy life—any resident of the Tower might dream of it.
That was all I ever wanted.
Now, there is no family left to share anything with.
I no longer know why I'm climbing the Tower.
I climbed as fast as I could, yet the road ahead was still long—while ti itself had already slipped far away.
The Floating Castle terror incident on the 99th Floor had already beco a cold, forgotten story to the public.
People rembered it as just one of FUG's more daring attacks and quickly moved on.
And then, at so point, I felt sothing inside my chest go cold.
That was when I stopped climbing.
I no longer ascended the Tower.
There was no aning in it anymore.
I contacted Hawol. I had Leblanc's body transferred to the floor I was staying on. An item had been used to prevent decay, so I could see her exactly as she had been at the mont of her death.
Her left arm was severed. Her back and chest were pierced clean through by a blade. A deep diagonal slash was carved across her body. Even her internal organs had been completely destroyed by so overwhelming force.
If it was a technique that attacked the inside of the body, I could guess what it was.
Her condition was horrific.
And yet… sohow, she looked noble.
Like a guardian who had fought to protect sothing until the very end.
I thought my tears had dried up years ago—but apparently, so were still left.
I held the funeral with as much care as I could.
She had been alive. Seeing her like that made it painfully real.
My family—who had been alive—were truly dead.
Albelda's carefree smile, the one she never lost no matter what, wouldn't leave my mind. I still rembered the taste of the alcohol Vicente had casually handed while pretending not to care. I could still clearly see Anna hugging her stuffed doll, asking if she could sleep together.
I just wanted to see Albelda fully recovered, becoming a proper swordswoman who no longer needed our support.
I just wanted to see Vicente find his own path and keep moving forward without losing his light.
I just wanted to see little Anna grow up into a beautiful young lady.
That was all.
Soday, all four of us—along with the comrades we'd et along the way—traveling the Tower together.
That was all I wanted. Just to be with my family.
So why?
It felt like the very last ember inside had finally gone out.
After that, I disappeared from public view.
I vanished into the deep, deep depths of the Tower.
All the labels that had followed —a Regular stronger than Rankers, and countless others—eventually fell away as ti passed. Rumors about were dismissed as exaggerations.
Whatever. I didn't care anymore.
I was tired.
I just wanted to rest.
Even though I knew I shouldn't, my broken mind and body hid themselves deep within the Tower's abyss—to escape from this painful reality.
To abandon everything.
To give up.
....
One Hundred Years Later
"Is this really the place?"
"Yes, of course, Princess."
In a remote part of the Outer Tower, a massive brick castle stood atop a distant ridge.
Maschenny had co all this way because of rumors that had begun circulating a few days ago.
A white-clad swordsman had appeared, slaughtered an evil group that had been using the castle as a base, and then claid the place for himself.
Maschenny, standing aboard a floating vessel, gazed at the distant castle.
A hundred years ago, after Hoaquin left without a word, she—and the rest of the team—had been thrown into confusion. But the very next day, the Lighthouse news reported that an Arie family floating castle had been attacked, killing all the children inside.
The friends Hoaquin had always talked about with a smile.
The ones she had briefly seen during a video call.
They were dead.
At first, the team chased after him, trying desperately to catch up. But there were limits. Ti passed, and eventually they drifted apart—though she'd heard Hwarang and Luf were still together.
Maschenny left the team and climbed the Tower as fast as possible.
Power. Authority.
She used everything she could.
All to find him.
And so, a hundred years passed.
Hoaquin had abandoned his climb decades ago. anwhile, she had relentlessly pursued him and finally reached the sa floor.
At last, she had found him.
An Arie slaughtering FUG.
Of course, the Ten Great Families were taught to treat FUG's eradication as a duty. There was a chance the white swordsman wasn't Hoaquin—but this was the floor where he'd last been seen, and more importantly, witnesses said the man wore a crown.
That made the odds absolute.
"You can go now."
"Yes, yes, Princess. Then I'll take my leave…"
The floating vessel pulled away, leaving Maschenny behind. She glanced around the castle once before boldly pushing open the largest gate.
Despite the unfamiliar surroundings and the thick scent of blood, her steps were dignified—befitting a Princess of Zahard.
A hundred years wasn't short for people still growing. Both Hoaquin and Maschenny had changed—one way or another.
She entered the castle's grand hall.
Her heels echoed sharply against marble as she walked, wondering what could have made him stop climbing so suddenly. What kind of person had he beco over a hundred years?
The deeper she went, the stronger the stench of blood grew.
Normally, she wouldn't have minded—blood was an intoxicating scent on the battlefield.
But this ti, it felt wrong.
At last, she reached the innermost chamber.
On a throne that once might have seated a king, soone was sitting.
The room was pitch dark, but Maschenny knew instantly.
"…Hoaquin?"
She manipulated shinsu, illuminating the area.
What she saw stopped her from speaking again.
His entire body was soaked in blood. Deep wounds covered him—none of them shallow. He was so battered she couldn't tell whether he was sleeping… or dead.
Her brows trembled.
"Hoaquin!"
"…?"
Eyes that looked like they would never open slowly did.
The clear white eyes she rembered were gone—replaced by dull gray ones staring back at her.
"…Maschenny?"
He stood up slowly, covering one wrist with his other hand.
Maschenny's eyes narrowed.
"…It's been a while. Didn't expect to see you here. What brings you? A rematch, maybe?"
She didn't answer. She walked closer.
Hoaquin looked puzzled, then glanced down at his blood-soaked body and seed to realize sothing.
"Don't worry about these wounds. There were a few High Rankers among FUG. They'll heal soon enough. Or I'll die."
She kept approaching in silence.
"Hoaquin. Co here."
"…Why?"
He took a step back, still covering his wrist.
In the next instant, Maschenny lunged.
"Maschenny—wait!"
She yanked his hand away.
"…!"
His wrist was covered in scars.
Every single one deep.
And one was still red.
Recent.
You stupid white idiot.
Realizing what he'd been trying to do, Maschenny froze for a mont. Hoaquin pulled his hand back.
"I didn't want you to see that."
Seeing her expression, he forced an awkward smile.
"Don't worry too much. I haven't succeeded yet, so—"
Smack.
His head snapped to the side.
Maschenny ground her teeth.
Hoaquin stared at her, stunned.
"…You—"
She cut him off imdiately.
"Sorry. I tend to hit things I see that aren't even funny."
She looked him straight in the eyes.
"Hoaquin. Get a grip."
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