Level Upper[dot]mp3
Have you not heard of all the urban legends going about, there in creeping in the shadowy midst of alleyways or of the whispers of frivolous women? As a resident of the city, a certain man whose name is of no importance, have heard of these stories. He had heard of the boy who can stay the powers of others. Of the secret eye that watches when no one is there, and of course of that reprehensible Level Upper, which strengthens the powers of all those who have their ears come upon its sounds. All these the young man, a power user of level 3, knew of, and he cared not for such things, for he cared not for superstition nor the movements men made in the passage of Time. For he had no other love other than music, as he was an artisan of sorts, a soundweaver, a musician, in his own terms.
Of his powers, it matched incredibly well with his mind's preoccupation. He was a level 3 as it was known. It was called Sound Editor, and to describe it aptly, though not enough to take away the wonder of his ability or bog down this tale with pointless story, such a power allowed him to change nearly all aspects of sounds come hither in his ears. Nearly all, because it has not been mastered by his will yet and he could only do it in a limited time. And though with such limitations, the man can turn the softest of sounds into the hardest, and the most terrible of songs into the greatest.
And thus his days was filled with the sound of music, and his dreams where filled with things that the universe confided alone to him. And Time passed him by and he cared not for its presence, though he kept a routine that allowed him to keep living in a manner he wanted, for what is there in the world, if all its colors dance to the conduction of his masterful hands, and could only be heard by his sensitive ears?
And this went for a many a months, and the world moved on and the storm of a great war shadows the world. Yet he continued on, and he was left alone in whatever loft or garret he stayed in with his music that he wielded. But it was in the nature of man to tire of things that they are wonted, and he too grew tired of it, for the music of his own became too familiar, and his mind became restless like a man wanders his gaze towards the purple horizon beyond the fields we know.
So the man casted aside the music that he made for himself, and anon tried to take on the sounds that he had forgotten and of sounds he had yet to hear. Of songs of birds and of the whispering of the air, are of the old, and the beeps of the jingles of whatever new devices that men has made in that city where it was known for. However, he remained restless, and many a sleepless nights, he scoured all the channels he knew for more sounds.
One lonely night, when all the upright people in the city fell into hands of Hypnos, he came upon a certain thing in a strange channel. He has heard of it before, in the dull whispers of detestable schoolgirls in their dumb uniforms and in their distasteful haunts. It was the terrible Level Upper that caused an uproar a few months prior, whither he still lead a fairly normal—the time where he was a Level 2.
The case have been solved by a dangerous power user months after, and the effects of its sounds could no longer bend people into a hopeless sleep, and thus the young man took it out of curiosity. He studied its form, rhythm, melody, pitch, and timber, and discovered the chaos there. Have he known of the significance of the faint sounds in the background which he intensified with his powers, he would have been spared of the discovery that would soon fall before him.
There was a certain charm in the chaos that was the file that the man found endearing. Who knows what weary and perverted mind could have made the sounds that he heard, but he was thankful for them, for this was a sound he had yet to hear. He discovered many ways he could bend the sound waves, and no old sound came from his manipulations, as if the very sound was bottomless, a proverbial font of all unheard sounds and aural things.
And then he heard a strange sound in the background. Faint it was, and its ululations were a queer but interesting addition to the sound. He used his powers and brought it to the open, but it remained faint still. Using his powers once again to increase its volume, and yet it remained faint, no matter how many times he used his ability, in many myriad of ways, the sound adamant in being heard clear. Perhaps this was the limit of his powers? He did thought of that, but the feeling of conquering the sound that he deemed to be of utmost importance in bending to him, was a though to dear to discard with mere doubts. And he did not give up, and slowly the sound, a high pitched ululation of strange rhythms and melody, could be heard for him. But, when he tried to make a new sound of it, it suddenly burst into a loudness that he has yet to have heard his entire life, like an explosion occurring before his very ears.
The man was thrown aback by it, and was rendered deaf for several weeks, his eardrums damaged.
The man now tries to live a normal life like every power user in the city of white, and now follow the ways of men and the passing of Time. The last part would be incorrect however. He does indeed follow the routines of men, but only a little, and he does follow the passage of Time and its mocking on his tired body. But more importantly, he fears Time quickly passing him from day to the dark hours of night. For nighttime was the time he did that queer experiment of his powers with that blasphemous Level Upper sound, and nighttime still he stirs in restlessness as he lays down for sleep.
For when he sleeps during lonely nights, when all the upright people in the city fell into hands of Hypnos, he came upon a certain sound that would come from no particular location and in every particular location. It keeps him awake, and he fears that whoever owns the sound will come forth to visit him for meddling in things he should have not been. And what of the sound? In a monotonous tone and low timber, it was "I can see you."