Tower of Endless: Death Granted Entry

Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh~

Moon sat down on a random bench, exhaling loudly like an old man.

Ding!

He looked at the status window of his skirmish round update and terms after everything was concluded with Talia.

"Man, I’m dead tired," he exclaimed, looking around to see everyone avoided looking at him. "And I look like shit," he concluded.

"I should be the one picking fights with everyone, asserting dominance and all; why is everyone picking fights with me instead?" Moon lamented, feeling exhausted after the long round of negotiations he went through with Talia.

The news she brought as well: two new clans are after him, along with necromancers, undead hunters, Colten’s clan, Korr, and the young master they spoke of.

"You’re doing pretty well though for someone who got half-fried with Echo a day ago," someone spoke, approaching the bench he was sitting on.

He turned around and saw the owner of the familiar voice.

Dorbish, who was holding two round things. They looked like cups but weren’t made of glass.

Moon rubbed his hands sideways, sending flakes of dry skin flying like dust. "Do I look okay to you?"

He ran his hand through his thinned-out hair. "DOES THIS LOOK OKAY, DAMMIT?"

Dorbish smiled and shook his head. "Calm down, anyone else would probably be dead or in a critical condition," he said calmly.

Moon rolled his eyes; he knew now what he meant and where the conversation was going.

"Yeah, I’m too damn awesome, what can I say?" He raised his head toward the sky.

"Here," Dorbish offered one of the two objects he was holding.

"What’s that?" Moon asked, squinting, but not extending his hand for it.

"A drink called coffee. That masked guy who’s with you, Basil, gets cups and disappears somewhere with them all day," Dorbish explained.

Moon squinted further, pointing at the cup. "What’s that thing holding that coffee thing?"

"A cup, obviously," Dorbish raised his eyebrows.

"Cups are made of glass or clay, what’s that?" Moon inquired.

"Oh," Dorbish’s eyes lit up. "That’s a paper cup!" he explained.

Moon rubbed his chin. Ed had also brought a paper bucket. Yet...

"How the hell does paper hold a drink?" Moon asked.

"Just take it already, dammit," Dorbish cursed.

"Like hell I would; who knows if it’s poisoned, or..." Moon’s voice trailed off.

"Come on, would I poison you in this facility? Are you insane?" Dorbish tried to talk reason.

The two of them glared at one another for a long moment.

"Fine," Moon said, extending his hand for the cup.

Sniff~

Sniff~

"Smells nice," he admitted.

Dorbish sat next to him, taking a sip. "I brought it sweetened with milk; I guess it was something that didn’t exist on the first floor... Having a strong first experience with it will make you hate it forever."

Moon didn’t bother himself with whatever Dorbish was saying; he instead took a sip.

He let it roll in his mouth for a moment. "There’s a hint of bitterness, strong... and manly," he nodded, approving of the coffee.

"No wonder Basil likes it; he’s got good taste, as expected of my underling." Moon nodded.

"How does a drink taste manly?" Dorbish asked.

"If you know, you know. If you don’t, that’s a problem no one could help you with," Moon said dismissively before taking another sip, nodding again.

Dorbish’s face fell, unsure of what they were even discussing.

"Did you pay for this... You’re from a rich clan, right?" Moon asked.

Dorbish gave him a side glance with his droopy eyes. "Everything is free in the facility, we don’t pay for anything."

He paused before adding, "And I’m not rich, my dad is... I’m not."

"Oh, how does that work?" Moon asked.

"Well, I’ll take you around the eatery and the other places later," Dorbish answered.

"Not that, how’s your dad rich but not you?" Moon corrected.

"Oh, that... Well, my dad is around 150 years old or so. I’m the youngest of his over 20 children," Dorbish said as if he was stating the obvious.

"And?" Yet, it seemed like Moon didn’t understand.

Dorbish exhaled; he took a moment, knowing Moon came from a different world than them.

After thinking things through, he said, "My dad is the clan leader, and one of his children will succeed him as the leader... I was born too late; the succession contest between siblings is long over... There’s no place for me in the clan."

Moon patted his shoulder. "That’s fine, a man’s life is full of misery," he said with an understanding face.

Dorbish turned his face to Moon. "What about you? Do you have anyone to return to on the first floor?" he asked.

"Nah, they all died," Moon said casually. "I was suddenly left behind."

Dorbish’s face fell; he looked at his cup. "I’m sorry," he said softly.

Moon shook his head. "Bruh, it’s fine... there’s nothing we could have done anyway," he said, smiling bitterly.

Dorbish looked at his smile, his moist eyes, and his nonchalant attitude.

Dorbish found himself repeating, "A man’s life is full of misery, is it?"

"Mhm, one way or another." Moon looked at Dorbish. "What are your plans then, now that you’re a useless pushover in your clan?"

"Like hell if I know," Dorbish answered in complete resignation to his fate.

"No clue?"

"No clue!"

"Figures." Moon took another sip. "This is too good, damn." Moon admired his coffee more.

He glanced at Dorbish. "Right, I wanted to ask for a while, but... what’s your relation with that annoying purple bastard?"

Dorbish coughed lightly. "Well, it’s a long story."

"How long?"

Dorbish closed his eyes for a moment. "Let’s say that our clans exist on the same floor; we’re childhood friends. He became the successor of his clan, and I became a pushover."

"Shit innit!" Moon shook his head, patting Dorbish’s shoulder twice. "Life sure is cruel."

Dorbish shook his head. "I kept my distance from him for a long time; who would have thought we’d step through the rift at almost the same time?"

"Yeah, if I knew someone like him, I’d keep my distance too," Moon nodded.

Dorbish frowned for a moment, but shrugged it off and didn’t say anything.

"How did that idiot become the successor, though?" Moon was curious; Roran was anything but someone who felt dependable.

His entire existence was pressing on Moon’s nerves even if he didn’t speak. The sight of him was painful to his eyes.

Moon wasn’t sure of the reason, but he wanted to find the answer through Dorbish. Or so he hoped, at least.

Dorbish, on the other hand, went silent for a second before beginning to explain, "Talent and timing; he was born at the right time with enough talent to be selected even before ascending or developing his ascension gift."

Moon raised his eyebrows. "They could tell he would develop an ascension gift even before ascending?" he questioned the words he heard, until his mind comprehended them.

Dorbish nodded. "It’s expensive and uncommon, but not impossible... Some clans are willing to pay the right price for anything that would help them ensure their future."

Dorbish turned his gaze to Moon. "Speaking of ascension gifts..."

Moon squinted. ’Here it comes,’ he thought. ’His real objective of this entire conversation.’

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