SYSTEM ASCENSION

The manor quickly lost its overwhelming atmosphere by day two.

Or perhaps Tiana simply grew used to it.

The children had welcomed her far more easily than she’d expected. Within minutes, the younger ones were asking endless questions, the older ones politely introducing themselves.

She realised one order in their names.

Rhythm, Raze, Reia, Rena, Rowy, Rowdy, Rain, Roy, Rood, Runi.

The letter R.

"It runs in the Ringoff main family," Rhythm, the eldest daughter replied.

Tiana frowned. "Then why is uncle named Zeal?"

"It’s not Zeal. It’s Razeal."

"Oh..."

And before she realized it, she’d been dragged into a conversation about the gardens, the training grounds, and which corridors not to wander into at night.

The wives were no different.

Warm, patient and kind.

It didn’t feel forced which somehow made everything stranger.

If this family existed, why had Rowen never spoken of them? Then she waved it off immediately. He had never spoken about the clan either, and even Zeal who had a loose lip had kept it hidden.

"...So you’ve always lived here?" Tiana finally asked one of the older daughters.

She nodded. "For as long as I can remember."

"And...Father?"

"He comes and goes."

"Very often?"

The girl smiled faintly. "Not really."

Before Tiana could ask another question, movement caught her eye.

The conversations throughout the hall died almost instantly.

She turned.

Rowen.

Gone was the easygoing man who laughed at terrible jokes, burned breakfast, and complained whenever grocery prices went up.

His hair, usually tied carelessly behind his head, now flowed freely down his back.

A long robe of deep black covered him from shoulders to boots, embroidered with silver patterns that shimmered like flowing ink. The relaxed smile she’d grown accustomed to had vanished, replaced by an unreadable calm that carried an invisible weight.

His footsteps echoed softly against the marble floor.

As he passed, every servant lowered their heads. Every guard bowed.

Even the children who had been laughing moments ago straightened instinctively before giving respectful bows.

The three wives inclined their heads with practiced elegance.

Tiana blinked, then awkwardly copied them a second too late.

Rowen acknowledged no one beyond a small nod before continuing down a corridor.

Her mind wandered. ’Are they scared of him?’

She got her answer immediately.

"Father!" The youngest boy, Runi, hopped down the chair, and grabbed a paper.

Rowen stopped and turned around. The boy ran to him and held up the paper.

"I drew this! Is it good?"

Rowen lowered himself down to the boy’s height, and he took it. He stared at it for a moment, then at the boy.

He smiled slightly. "What do you think about your drawing?"

The question caught the boy off guard. He leaned closer. "I think the hair needs to be a little darker...and the eyes are not green enough..."

"And..."

The boy sniffed and covered his face. "It’s not smiling."

"And why is it not smiling?"

"I couldn’t draw his smile. My head was foggy."

Rowen looked at the picture again. "Without the smile, it already looked like Zeal, when he’s serious. Good job."

The boy laughed softly.

Rowen stood up and patted his head. "I’m keeping this. Draw another one." Before walking away.

The boy turned back and walked to them. He took his seat and covered his face.

"He did say he’ll come back to see me. Stupid uncle."

Tiana glanced at their solemn expressions.

’I thought they weren’t close to him since he loves wandering. I guess they missed him too.’

***

Rowen opened a single door.

The room beyond was dim, almost entirely dark. He put the drawing on the table.

Bookshelves climbed from floor to ceiling, packed with weathered tomes and sealed scrolls. Ancient maps covered one wall, while another displayed countless weapons.

At the center stood a long table.

Upon it rested a dusty wine bottle, its wax seal unbroken despite the thin layer of age and dust coating everything around it.

Rowen removed the seal, and poured himself a glass.

The dark crimson liquid swirled lazily before he took a slow sip, his expression never changing.

Then...

He reached toward a crystal orb resting beside the bottle. His finger tapped it once and the orb pulsed.

A faint hum spread through the room.

One light became two.

Two became ten.

Circles of pale blue floated into existence above the table, each one revealing the image of hooded figures, concealed beneath darkness.

Silence.

Until one of them spoke.

"It’s been a while, Ringoff." A man’s voice. "Condolence for your loss."

"It’s our loss," a female’s voice sounded. "He was our league master."

"I heard some of the numbers died too, including the ticking time bomb." Another man spoke.

Rowen sat, and sip from the glass.

"Such promising young people. How unfortunate," a woman clasped her hand together. "May Omeo guide their parts to the beyond. Amen."

"Stop with the religious talks." A female child’s voice snorted.

"I wasn’t able to complete the antidote for the league master’s vital core before he died. Such a waste." A man’s voice sighed. "You didn’t even let him know that you were searching for a way to cure him, Rowen."

"He should have stayed out of combat." Another man said.

"Would he have complied?" A woman laughed. "He’s young and rebellious. Just my ty—."

"That’s enough." Rowen cut in.

They all went silent.

"We have more pressing issues."

He leaned back. "Upholder and disposal. Some of the children in the Ringoff clan are upholders, but none are disposals. It is safe to assume that the methods of selection are different."

"Being a disposal is voluntary," the little girl spoke. "I had a deserter who accepted the will to be a disposal. Hunted him down and gutted him." She grinned.

"How sinful." A woman gasped.

"Rather than picking sides, it seems the disposal is more rooted. A selection that had happened before we knew that we’re being selected," a man said.

"And the upholders are forces put together to stop them." A woman added.

"The question is, by who?" Rowen muttered.

"And even with it being damn obvious, the children are still trying to hide it," A woman said.

"Either whatever took them wanted them to hide it, or they instinctively knew about the disposal before they attacked." Another said.

"Razeal had one ability," Rowen muttered. "I did an investigation with the orphanage he grew up in. I met him about seven years ago. He had two."

"So the system gave him?" The girl asked.

Rowen narrowed his eyes. "What if the disposal can take it from them?"

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