Walls without a ceiling and purple light. That is what filled my vision upon "arrival".

The walls were sands brown, worn and ancient looking, with engravings, veins, giant depictions and leaf like patterns adorning them. They towered above me.

They were ancient.

Every so often there was a pillar built in, with a single torch alit on it, providing muted light and long shadows.

Once they would have been magnificence, not only in height but also design, they would be a marvel to witness.

They still were, but it was a slightly sorrowful feel. The crumbling walls gave a lonely ambience. A morbid testament to times will.

Above, high above in a black sky, there shone a single purple star. It was like no other.

Mysterious didn't cut it, it was a mix of strange, terrifying and alluring, all rolled up into one unique, amethyst luminary.

It's glow only added to the forsaken echo of this empty hall, mixing and mingling with the weak yellow torch light.

The hall was alien and ancient.

For it was a hall. Covered in rubble, perhaps the remains of the roof or crumbling walls, but a grand hall nonetheless.

It was wide as it was tall, there was a hallowed quality. Even ghosts had turned to dust here, of that I was certain.

My mind seems fuzzy, but that was indeed what I saw.

I stood still, breathing the stale air, and waiting.

'For what? Why? Till when?'

These thought never once crossed my mind.

I just waited.

Till eventually-

"I do not want you to climb the Tower."

A bunny appeared.

.

.

Those other two, the black haired lady and the short silver boy left.

Bam had disappeared. He went on ahead. He defeated that giant eel. He popped the ball. He defied the odds…

Like a hero.

To find me.

'It's scary.'

"Did you see?" The monster spoke. "The boy went up."

Its tone was polite, but I couldn't help but think it mocking me. Afterall…

'They all mock me.'

"What will you do now… mis-!"

A glitch.

What?

I blinked? My eyes closed against my will. Was that a blink? Or perhaps my vision was stolen? For a brief moment I could not see.

I was not allowed to see.

Then when I saw again, a boy was there.

I couldn't tell his age, but he couldn't be much older than I. My sense of aesthetics is uncultured, but I could tell he ascertain he was by no means ugly.

'Not like I.'

Light brown skin, black hair, lean body and golden eyes. He was dressed in a plain black robe and nothing else. He wore no shoes or undershirt.

With bare feet, he just stood there, observing his surroundings.

But that was not what held my interest.

Headon, the monster "administrator", had a wonderful expression.

Stupefaction. Unwillingness. Incomprehension.

That irritating look. Like everything is going to plan, like you know me, like you're better than me, like I'm nothing, like I'm a bug, like I'm weak…

All gone.

It was wonderful.

'Serves him right. For mocking me, for mocking me, for mocking me, for mocking me, for moc-'

My own pettiness took pleasure at anything that the monster didn't like.

So childish.

'I don't care. Shut up. I'm right.'

...

For a time there was silence. The monster stood there like an idiot (hah!), I stayed quite and the new boy was simply noting his surroundings.

None of us moved. I remained invisible, Headon remained in the shadows, the boy observed one of the giant depictions, hand clasped behind his back.

He was astoundingly calm and composed.

Not a step taken, he seems entirely content to just stare at that carving, yet there is no look of panic or disorder on his face. He looked serene.

'Why isn't he panicking? What does he know? Is he like me? Is he strong? Is he stronger than me? Is he kind? Can he help me? Would he help me? Will he help me?'

To me the boy seemed unfathomable.

Then the monster spoke.

"I do not want you to climb the Tower."

And just like that I had decided.

'I want him to climb the tower with me.'

A chuckle echos from the depth of my mind.

So petty. So childish. Just because his eyes looks like Bam's.

'Shut up. I'm right. He's better than Bam.'

Tut-tut.

I ignore her voice. I'm used to it. I'm better than her.

I'm going to be a Princess. I'm going to see the stars.

I won't let the dark swallow me.

A familiar chuckle.

Tut-tut…

I ignore it. I'm better than her.

.

.

The bunny spoke again, repeating him(its?)self.

"I do not want you to climb the Tower."

I blink at him, tilting my head but otherwise silent. Let the silence suck out the truth.

The bunny continued.

"One is enough, two pushing it, but three is excess. You are not needed here. The Tower does not need you. The Tower does not welcome you Irregular."

The bunny is like a pokemon, I want to catch it.

'... What's a pokemon?'

The bunny's voice starts to raise at my continued "indifference".

"The water can be stirred! Must be stirred! At times this is necessary, yes! But you are too much! Excess! Undeeded! You shall not climb the Tower!"

The bunny's worked up pants do not echo through the halls, yet I feel like the atmosphere has changed. A new "echo" is resounding through this roofless hall.

The walls themselves give of a feel of frustration. That purple star getting more intense as the bunny ranted.

Hmmm.

It would seem I am rather unwelcome?

The bunny was getting pretty passionate there at the end.

Still, it would seem the bunny has said his piece. He(it?) is now just staring at me with that Arceus-like head, beady aquatic eyes holding my gaze.

'... Who's Arceus?'

I feel like I should have a suitable response for such an impassioned triade, but first things first...

"What Tower?"

The bunny went very, very still. It's hard to tell, but I think one of its eyes twitched. The ball-tipped staff I didn't pay attention to before clenched tightly in its hands.

The walls gave a faint groan.

'... They're not about to fall are they, like right now? That's bad aint it? I think it's bad.'

I think I heard someone snickering too.

"... What is your name." The bunny eventually gritts out.

I blink. Name…?

Name? What's a name-

Identification papers please. Passport? Sign here. How do you spell that? Please wear this tag whilst visiting. Isn't that you in the newspaper? I will remember you. Could you say that again?

Oh… Name.

"We may have got of on the wrong foot." I extend my hand for a shake, "My name is Iskander David Kyrielight Emiya Bucephalus Bellerophon Pendragon the III, son of Azathoth, high priest of Slaanesh, Destroyer of Worlds." I let the words hand and do my best to smile. "A pleasure."

… Silence…

For some reason I imagined the sound of crickets.

'... What are crickets?'

"Ah, just to confirm." Did I do it wrong? "That was a joke."

…

The walls groaned.

'... What's a facepalm and why do I want to do it?'

A part of me wants to dig a hole, and the other part is wondering why.

"Eherm…" I shuffle a bit, an itch I would later christen 'awkwardness' crawled through my stomach compelling me to speak. "What might your name be mister rabbit?" My hand still hanging before me, waiting to "shake."

'Whatever that means anyway.'

Slowly, oh so slowly, one of the rabbits three-fingered hands unclench from its staff and grudgingly move to mine.

"... Headon. Guardian of the first floor of the Tower."

Our hands clasped, his pasty white paw a fair bit larger than mine. I could faintly feel a powerful thurum through his hand.

'Strong.'

I look at Headon once more.

'Very strong.'

involuntarily, truly involuntarily, my heart beat just a little quicker.

For some reason I felt calmer. I was not confused, but I realise I was a tad absentminded before. But this felt familiar. This grounded me.

Headon had his head turned slightly to the side so he could look at me with his eye. He was alien, unfamiliar to me, even If I know little I know that.

Yet it was exactly that unfamiliarity, that air of energy and (now I realise) barely restrained frustration that snapped me out of my "simpleness".

Headon represented danger.

And danger gleams like sunshine to a brave man's eyes.

I not so much as smile, but bare my fangs. Our grip slightly tightens as we shake silentently.

"So then Mr Headon. Tell me." We lean back, breaking the acknowledgment. "What is the Tower?"

The walls have stopped groaning, I guess he was just annoyed at my flippant attitude, my instant maturity must have satisfied his pride somewhat. Or maybe he's just taking what he can get.

There is still some frustration about but it's mostly replaced by resignation.

"... The Tower holds all answers. Whether you are looking for; wealth, immortality, absolute power, magical abilities or mysteries, all is there. All the truth, glory and happiness in the world-"

The "guardians" voice is almost a reverent whisper, set somehow still dull and uninspired.

"Are all up there…" He looks at me quietly and concludes, "the Tower is such a place."

With that he turns on the spot, I can almost hear the silent huff.

My eyes narrow.

"You are contracted to say that." He didn't want to say that.

"How astute." He does not turn, continuing to walk down the hall.

"You do not want me to go up." Recalling his greeting rant.

"No, I do not." He continues to walk.

I decide to follow.

"Explain why again?"

"You are excessive." He said simply.

We continued to walk. I noted the extra set of footsteps trailing some ways behind. I did not see anyone, invisible? There is no extra shadow, not just invisible then, some sort of phased state? Yet I can still hear footsteps? How strange.

Headon is obviously aware of the extra but did not deign to inform me of them.

We continued down the hall, or should I call it a corridor with how long it is, for some time.

I contemplated.

Not on anything specific at first, I just turned inwards and started thinking.

The monotonous walk, flickering yellow light, dreamy purple light and background sounds of our footfalls with the faint burning of combustibles allowing me to enter a perfect state of self-reflection.

A self-reflection that eventually landed on a single topic.

'Before,'

Before what? This. What is this? Unknown. What was before? Unknown. What happened before? Unknown. When was before? Unknown. Why did before end? Unknown. Who was I before? …

Known.

"By the way…" My sudden speech caused the invisible footsteps almost falter. "The name's Arayan. It is truly a pleasure."

I got a singular grunt in return from Headon.

Heh. Fun guy.

'Bit still… Before huh?'

My name is Arayan. I didn't know that before I asked the question. I assume more knowledge will resurface in a similar manner in the coming future.

Perhaps even a few memories but somehow I rather doubt it.

My semi-hypnotic state fully broken, I don't bother try entering it again. Instead choosing to simply enjoy the scenery. The giant depictions on the walls framed by pillars were all unique.

Although the etchings was simplistic, maybe even minimalistic, they were each different and depicting their own strange beasts and scenery. But besides that, just their sheer size was worthy of note by itself.

As we pass I take note of the more unusual ones.

One depicted a cyclops like creature with bat wings, one a tree with eyeballs as leaves, another a swarm of dragonflies mid-flight arranged in the shape of a skull…

As we walked the illustrations seemed to get more and more fearsome.

I could more or less tell these "depictions" were more like labels. Headon is the "guardian", in other words he protects this floor, yet he is contracted to give that spiel on how everything is up the Tower.

This is conflicting.

He guards here yet is contracted to lure people to go up. He doesn't want some people to go up so he chooses who goes up. He tests them. These depictions are probably all tests. The test depictions look to be getting harder.

Headon really doesn't want me going up.

… Well. I figured that out from the beginning though.

I scratch my ear.

'What a roundabout thought process I have.'

Eventually we stop. After how long I do not know. How far we have come I do not know.

I take in the scene.

'There's a roof.'

The walls had been getting progressively more intact as we walked, less ruble littered the floor and minute cracks on the pillars that were commonplace before had completely disappeared.

It was by no means immaculate, there was still a fine layer of dust, the air was stale and there was still rubble swept to the sides. But it was a world of difference from the area I arrived at.

However the greatest change was before me. A ceiling. The roof domed, looking at it the corridor looked like a giangatic archway.

Cliche it may sound, the shadow the roof cast could only be called a "shadowy maw."

From where the roof starts there were no touches lit, the torches from the topless part of the corridor can not pierce the darkness cast by the stone canopy and the shine of that purple star was obviously also unable to light the way down.

The wall of blackness was as intense as it was immense.

But it was strange.

'Somehow it was not to the extent I expected? It didn't scare me as much I thought? It was lacking?'

Then I noted the thin shimmering purple sheen, previously indistinguishable due to the intensity of gloom that stole my attention. The sheen was delicate, like silk had been woven from light and draped over the entrance to the "archway".

'Oh.'

"That purple starlight has created a barrier over the entrance. It's muffling much of the impact that darkness should give." I state.

"Yes." A one word confirmation.

"Are we going down there?" I don't think our tag-along would be able to handle that.

"... No." Headon seemed to consider it but soon denied it. Whatever was down there must be pretty bad. "Not even for you."

Pretty bad indeed, so bad it is not worth the trouble going there to get rid of even me, the dreaded "excess".

"This will be enough." He turns on the spot to face me in what seemed like an age. "This will be enough." He repeats, using his staff to point to one of the depictions on my right.

Only a few depictions away from the "archway" was my test, framed by two pillars like all the rest.

I'd like to say it was unique or special or had some deep meaning to me that I didn't know existed, like karma had finally seen to it's dues, but it wasn't.

All the illustrations had been strange and unique, so in a way they were all normal. This was no different.

It had an incredibly ominous feel, but when nestled in between the grotesque feel of the wasp depiction to the right and the baleful aura of the snake depiction to the left, it was nothing special.

That did not mean I was going to underestimate it however, Headon had to have chosen this specific one for a reason. And Headon has made it abundantly clear he does not want me going up.

This may well end me. I've known that for a while though.

Ever since we started walking, the whispers of death had gradually been getting increasingly stronger. Each one of these depictions could squash me like a bug.

Now I had just gone from bug to plankton.

'Death approaches.'

But for some reason that does not scare me at all.

The errant thought 'been there, done that' runs through my mind.

Headon spoke.

"Do not climb the Tower. I can arrange land, riches, women, power and indulgences beyond your imagination for you... as long as you do not climb the Tower." A final bid.

"You knew from the start I would want to climb the Tower. Once you gave that contracted speech, you didn't even need to ask my intentions. Why waste words now?"

"... Indeed. I have seen your type many a time. You need no grand reason to climb other than that there is something to climb. Material gains mean little to you, but I must make a final bid."

"... I can see you really don't want me up there huh." It was a statement not a question. I consider the guardian for a moment, he radiated sincerity.

He would truly have supplied me all those things had I agreed, doing his utmost to satisfy me without letting me climb the Tower.

How unfortunate.

A low chuckle inadvertently rumble through my chest. I'm not even sure what's funny but I know it is.

"My apologies." I look at him with equal sincerity. "But I'm afraid I've just recently hit my rebellious phase."

I bow 90° towards the guardian.

He doesn't react.

"I truly regret putting you in a difficult situation." I rise. "But I will climb this Tower."

There is silence, Headon does not sigh, huff or react in any way outwardly. But there is a definite sense of acceptance.

Followed by ancient indifference.

I feel a shiver down my spine.

Headon was not chilling or cold, he was ancient. Like he had seen suns burn out, worlds turn to dust and species rise anew.

"Very well." His voice was low. "Then you will die."

He walks to the wall and taps it with his staff.

"This is your test."

The ominous depiction alters into a giant wall of metal mesh. A fense jailing in the beast that was illustrated.

"This is the Memory Giant."

.

.

I blink.

"Mic test! Mic Test. One two, one two. Ah, ah. We good? Good."

The racket is annoying. I rub my forehead.

"Ehhhhh. It would seem the final two Regulars have arrived. Our apologies for the hold up."

Where am I?

"Hello everyone!"

I'm surrounded by long grass that comes up to my chest.

"All the Regulars who have made it to the Tower! We sincerely welcome all of you, to the Second Floor…"

There's a slight breeze.

"Evankhell's Floor!"

And an irritatingly loud voice.

"This is Evankhell's Floor, it is also called the Floor of Tests'! Because-"

There seems to be floating black balls- pockets my mind supplies- spaced at equal distances apart transmitting the irritating voice.

"Here we carry out the final test to see whether you are qualified to go up the Tower!"

Tower? Oh. The Tower. The one Headon didn't want me climbing.

"Well- I'll explain the details to y'all later!"

I'm here? How? When? What happened?

"First let's start the test!"

No. Wait. Be calm. Deal with all that when you're safe.

"Y'all waited long enough! It's been long since we warmed up!"

… Is that Laputa's Floating Castle in the distance?

"The first test is simple! I dislike complicated things!"

… No need to sound so proud about it

Still.

"One rule!"

A bad feeling draws in with the bleak breeze.

"Survive!"

The winds bring a smell of blood with it.

"By all means possible!"

And the bad feeling proves true.

"This! Is! A! Thirty! Minute! Deathmatch!"

A cheerful voice announces the falling sythe.

"Reaadyyyy-"

A hand grips the sleeve of my robe.

"Begin!"

A small girl with primrose hair and fearful eyes of the same colour clung to me.

"""RAGHHHHHHH"""

Roars erupt around us but I could only stare nonplussed.

"DIE SHITSTAIN"

'When did she get there?'

.

.

AN: I think I will have to be doing this in little snippets for a while. Back at college now, so free time will decrease.

There will be longer, better chapters in the future, but right now this way is probably best till we get into the really good nitty-gritty parts.

Sharp bursts to get the ball rolling and keep it rolling.

Under Dim Lighting is still being worked on, currently at 25 pages.

I hope this intrigues you, or at least piques your interest.

Leave a review and like if it pleases, I read them all and appreciate any support you can give.

Right now I'm going to bed.

Panda out.