Bam looks out. The sky stretches above him, dark and empty and impossibly huge. While the view should be breathtaking, it isn't — how many times has he stood here on his little balcony? Too many to count. Yet, as always, he looks out. The sky stretches to infinity, the stars shimmering, fighting to avoid being swallowed by the inky darkness as the crescent moon hangs heavy on the horizon.
A chill breezes rustles his thin robes, but Bam doesn't shiver. He surpassed his mortal body long ago.
He stands alone, a dark figure against the dark sky, the Irregular who warped fate and changed the course of the entire tower. Beneath his feet, the world is burning. Floors lie in ruins, their rulers overthrown. How many have died? How many are dying? How many will die? Too many to count. Like a stone dropped in a still pond, the effects of his actions are still rippling outwards. Destroying Jahad and his empire has led to great chaos and upheaval, and even now, centuries later, the far reaches of the Outer Tower go up in flames.
Perhaps he should feel remorse, but he is beyond such things.
He bows his head. I see the stars, he thinks with a bitter chuckle, do you still think they are so beautiful, Rachel?
Hundreds of years have passed since he last saw her, last spoke with her. Her final words… Bam frowns, shaking his head as he looks up. Rachel is dead and has been dead for centuries. Fate… is cruel. One floor away from this little balcony, its fake sky resplendent with shinsu-stars, but Jahad... Fate, the voices in his mind whisper. Jahad is fate, and fate is unstoppable...
At least it was unstoppable… until I killed him.
He hadn't expected Jahad's death to destroy Wangnan; Goseng told him afterwards that in the middle of a conversation, Wangnan had suddenly stilled, then crumpled to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. In a sick, twisted fashion, it had made sense, though: Wangnan and Jahad were one and the same, cut from the same cloth.
Wangnan was part of the price I paid.
Now, it is Bam that rules the Tower, at least what remains. In the beginning, Khun had tried, drawing up plans to lead the Tower into a new era of peace and prosperity. They had ruled, two Kings sharing a throne, lording over the remaining Family Heads and changing the Tower for the better. Bam had been happy… until a disgruntled High Ranker requested a private audience with Khun and Yeon to discuss the 'exorbitant taxes' and then tried to kill them both.
Khun hadn't survived. Even his ice shinsu, his father's treasury, and the sweetfish's power hadn't been enough.
Bam still remembers that day as though it were yesterday. He had been sitting in his study, reading over some notes Khun had sent him, when Yeon returned, smelling of smoke and blood and ashes, her face gray.
Destroying the individuals involved and burning their names from history hadn't brought his friend back. Building an enormous shrine hadn't made him feel better. Khun was gone… completely gone. Rak had tried to help him, but he hadn't been enough. Without Khun by his side to help him in the daily running of a nation, Bam had slowly fallen into despair.
He hasn't thought of him in years.
No one survived. Even the ones who did were so different, they were hardly the same person as before.
Himself included.
The foolish, naive, little boy who entered the Tower centuries ago is only a whisper in the wind, subsumed by the man he has become. Jue Viole Grace, the people whisper. The 25th Bam. The King who Sees and Knows All.
He draws his robe around him, then steps inside. He knows his servants are waiting for him, the High Priests kneeling before the altar, hoping he will speak and deliver justice to the Tower. They have been waiting for many years, and they will wait many more. Bam has a greater purpose, something that consumes all else.
I will be the ruler of this entire Tower.
One day, he will reach the top. For now, he can step outside on his beautiful balcony and see the fake stars, but in the future, he will look out and see nothing but the night sky and its true glory surrounding him. Everything exists at the top of the tower. A sparkling crown winks into existence above him, twinkling in the gloom. A crown of stars. Near his temple, a blue star for Khun. Near his ear, a yellow star for Rachel. Strung together across the back of his head, a string of white stars for team Sweet and Sour. Hwaryun's red star twinkles above his right eye, and he grimaces.
Hwaryun had always told him that he would be the ruler of the tower, that he was destined for great things. She had always been right, but her powers hadn't saved her from Arie Hon's sword.
One day, he will climb to the top of the Tower and he will memorialize his companions in the sky, make it so the future generations will look up and understand and remember the struggle that it took to reach the top. Then he will ask for their resurrection.
Someday, he will. In the meantime, he will wait, wait and admire these false stars.
Because everything exists at the top of the tower.