Awakener's Guide to Climbing the Tower

"He still wanted me to climb safely." She looked toward the rain-darkened window, watching thin streams of water drag the lights outside into crooked lines.

King gave her a long, dry look. [You nearly died repeatedly before reaching Floor 11. Clearly, his efforts had limitations nya.]

Misha closed her eyes for a moment as she exhaled through her nose. "I’m choosing to ignore that."

[A wise decision nyauh.] King smoothed one paw over the blanket.

"This still happened because of me." She opened her eyes again, though she did not look at him.

[No.] King’s answer came sharply enough to make her look at him. [Master made those choices nya.]

"But he made them for me." Misha pressed one hand against her chest.

[That does not make them yours nya.] His tail struck the blanket once. [Do not steal responsibility from someone simply because blaming yourself makes you feel useful.]

Misha went quiet. That sounded far too wise for a creature who had spent half the conversation questioning her intelligence.

She looked down at her hands. Caleb had altered her invitation, created her skill, and changed the settlements. He had done all of that knowing someone might eventually eventually trace those changes back to him. And he had done it anyway.

The thought should have comforted her. Instead, it made the ache in her chest spread.

He had expected the risk. Perhaps he had been preparing for it long before her second invitation appeared. No– he had been preparing.

"How did Caleb obtain Administrator’s authority in the first place?" She couldn’t help but ask as she rubbed her thumb against her palm.

King’s proud expression returned immediately. The change was so smooth that she almost admired it.

[That is not something I am permitted to answer nya.] He sat straighter.

Misha sighed heavily. "Another secret?"

[An important one nya nya.] King nodded solemnly.

"Can’t you give me a hint?"

[No.] King’s answer arrived before she finished speaking.

"One word?" She held up a finger.

King considered her request with insulting seriousness. Then his eyes gleamed. [Climb nya.]

Misha narrowed her eyes at him. "That is not a hint."

[It is both an answer and an instruction.] King’s mouth curved faintly. [If you want the truth, climb nya.]

Misha’s expression soured.

[Reach Master nya.] King lifted his chin. [Stand before him where he cannot hide behind the gray windows, System restrictions, or my exceptionally maintained silence nya nya.]

"Your silence is not exceptionally maintained." Misha pointed at him. "You’ve spent the entire night telling me things."

[Only what Master permitted nya.] King looked pleased with himself.

"And avoiding everything else." Misha pulled the blanket higher around her waist.

[Then reach him and demand the answers yourself. He may still refuse, but at least you can throw things at him directly nya.]

The answer irritated her once again because it gave her nothing. It also sounded exactly like Caleb.

"How far do I have to climb?" Misha asked as she studied him.

King’s mouth curved into a proud, almost predatory smile. [Far enough until Master can no longer pretend you are merely someone he should protect nya.]

She sighed once more. "That doesn’t sound like a floor number."

[It is not.] He stepped closer. [Floors are the easy measurement nya.]

"Of course they are." She rubbed one hand over her face.

[You must become strong enough that he is forced to respect your decisions even when he disagrees with them.] King stopped beside her leg. [Strong enough to survive the consequences of the answers you demand nya.]

Misha lowered her hand. She thought of Caleb as she remembered him before the Tower. Not as an Administrator but just as Caleb, her younger brother.

He had always possessed an unreasonable amount of confidence for someone who caused so many avoidable problems. She remembered his insufferable grins whenever he got away with something, and the way he laughed whenever she scolded him, especially when he knew she was right.

Sometimes she defended him, sometimes she dragged him home by ear. Usually, she did both.

Caleb had a habit of appearing beside her after getting into trouble, suddenly quieter than usual because he knew she would eventually step between him and whatever consequence was approaching. He never asked her to. He did not need to since she always noticed.

She remembered cleaning the blood from his scraped knees while he insisted the injury looked worse than it felt. She remembered slipping extra food onto his plate when money was tight, then pretending not to notice when he stole something from hers anyway.

He was infuriating, loud, and far too clever whenever cleverness was least helpful. At the same time... He was also her little brother.

Protecting him had once felt like the simplest thing in the world. It had not required strength, authority, or some impossible class. She only needed to stand in front of him and refuse to move.

Then there was Mateo who had never needed her to stand in front of him since he had always been the one who noticed when something was wrong before either of them said anything.

He would tease them less openly, though that did not make him innocent. Half of Caleb’s worst ideas probably began with a suggestion from Mateo, delivered with such a straight face that Caleb never realized he had been manipulated. Misha always realized, eventually.

She remembered Mateo tapping her forehead whenever she overthought something. The way he stepped between her and their parents when arguments grew too heated...back when their parents were still alive.

She was a rebellious child to her parents and Mateo had been the first person she looked for when things became difficult since he simply made things less impossible. He had been her shelter more times than she could count.

Misha had been Caleb’s older sister. With Mateo, she had been allowed to be someone’s younger sister.

Then both of them disappeared before her eyes. And somewhere along the way, those places had been tangled beyond recognition.

Inside the Tower, Caleb had become someone who could alter the laws of an entire world. The youngest of them had become the one standing in front. While Mateo, he had vanished even deeper into the Tower’s secrets, and King refused to say why. Misha did not even know whether Mateo was hiding, trapped, or fighting somewhere alone. The eldest had disappeared beyond her reach.

And here she was, searching for them both.

The realization left a dull ache beneath her chest. They had changed without her.

Misha lowered her gaze toward her hands.

She had spent days telling herself that she needed to find her brothers. She had imagined reaching them, grabbing them by the shoulders, and embracing them tight. Now she wondered what she would do once she finally stood before them.

Would Caleb smile as though nothing had changed? Would Mateo pat her head and tell her that everything would be all right now that he was there?

Would the two of them exchange one of those silent looks that meant they had already decided what she was allowed to know?

Her fingers slowly curled into her palms. She did not want to reach Caleb and Mateo as another person they needed to rescue. She wanted to stand beside them as their sister, the one who had worried about them, searched for them, and refused to accept that protecting her had become their burden alone.

With Caleb, she wanted to stand as his older sister who could tell him that he didn’t have to carry everything alone anymore. She wanted him to understand that being her younger brother did not give him the right to decide her life.

With Mateo, she did not want to find him only to collapse into his arms and leave the rest to him. She wanted to reach him as someone capable of standing when he could not.

The thought made her throat tighten.

Would they still feel like her brothers? Would she still feel like their sister? Or had the Tower taken too many years from them for the old shape of their family to fit?

King watched her in silence as she disappeared deeper into her thoughts. For once, he made no attempt to pull her back.

Misha breathed in slowly and held it until the ache in her chest settled into something firmer. Then she reached down and scratched behind King’s ear. "I guess I’ll have to climb until they run out of excuses."

King’s eyes slowly closed beneath her hand.

[You truly are Master’s older sister nya.] He lowered his head, his voice carrying something gentler beneath the familiar resignation.

Misha’s fingers paused. Older sister. The words struck somewhere tender. That title felt almost useless.

What kind of sister lost both her brothers and remained behind while they endured a place like this alone?

Her throat tightened, but she swallowed the feeling before it could reach her face.

"Unfortunately for him, I still am." Misha continued scratching behind his ear as a faint, unsteady smile touched her lips.

A low vibration rumbled beneath her palm.

King began to purr. Then his entire body stiffened, the sound stopped abruptly.

Misha looked down at him. "Was that–" Her fingers remained in his fur.

[No.] King dug his claws into the blanket.

"You were purring." Her smile widened.

King closed his eyes with exaggerated dignity. [Sovereign resonance nya.]

"That is not a thing." Misha scratched the same spot again.

The purring returned, louder this time.

[Continue, and I will reveal nothing else for the remainder of the week nya.] King’s claws flexed, though he made no attempt to move away.

"You weren’t going to reveal anything I wanted to know anyway." Misha settled deeper against the headboard.

[Nyauh... Insolent human.] King stepped onto her lap and rested his chin against her stomach anyway.

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