"Hey, you see those two? Do you know them? What family do they belong to?"
Hmm, they were talking about him and Lucian, weren't they?
"Some commoner, I bet. Look at that buffoon's dress. No family would let a son of theirs walk out of the house like that."
Vern didn't agree with their tone and the way they put it, but damn, did he agree with the sentiment.
The whole group giggled. Then, one added, "But did you see the audacity of that butler? He treated our families like shit, calling that Dancer bitch right at that moment."
"Yeah, not just that. He even called these two low-borne from whatever backwater district to the side for a chat. As if those rats mattered more than our Garner familia members."
I see. It was the group that tried to argue with De Flanc. That explained it. A bunch of stuck-ups, for sure.
"Hey, commoners got to stick together and all that, you know?"
"And they call us classist. Who's the real classist here, huh?"
"Hahhaha"
"Hahh, I can't."
Yeah, this wasn't very informational. He had long become immune to jabs from stupid ones who liked to think simply being born into a noble family put them above everyone else.
He had been at the same tables as many nobles because of his profession, so he knew exactly what went through their minds. The depths of their depravity were nothing new to him. But obviously, there were all kinds of nobles in the world—just like commoners. He wasn't one to generalize for the sake of it.
"Next group, please." hollered the handler, and luckily, it was the set of bitches that wouldn't stop with their disdainful commentary.
Taking a deep breath, he let it go. It wasn't worth arguing with people like these. Moving his attention over to another group, he closed in. That guy who was playing with motes of light was also here.
One of the men grumbled, "This is ridiculous. I've only been an Observer for ten days. Just ten days! Why did my family even accept this absurd invitation? I'm nowhere near prepared for whatever this is."
A second man bobbed his head in agreement, "Exactly. I've got no interest in being a guinea pig for some untested venture. Bet they're just winging it. We'll sit through their spiel, then make a quick exit, right?"
The first man's resolve firmed as he spoke, "Indeed. We should wait and see if this organization is worth joining or not. If this organization proves itself, joining later won't be an issue. They'll need us nobles eventually—commoners lack the Observation Records, after all."
But that's when the Light manipulator interjected with a serene composure, "It's about the first mover's advantage."
Shoving his hands in his pocket, he leaned on the wall and continued, "If we don't join it during its early days, we will be giving up the golden opportunity to shape the future. Once the groundwork is laid and internal alliances are formed, changing anything gets exponentially harder."
Then he narrowed his eyes and declared, "So if you all want to chicken out, go right ahead. I am nabbing my place in the founders."
"But Whit, aren't you concerned about the risks?" another questioned, skepticism lacing his tone. "You think it's going to be that simple?"
A different voice piped up, somewhat reluctantly, "He does have a point, though."
Then the handler interjected again, and three more groups were sent to the top of the tower, including the one he was eavesdropping on.
Vern looked at the pocket watch. There were still about twenty minutes, and only a couple more groups were left ahead of them.
Now, he didn't even need to strain to hear what was being discussed. It was a group of two guys and one girl.
The girl whined, "Why are we hereeee? I could've gotten my nails done in this time."
The taller one mumbled, his voice getting louder by the second, "Who cares about your stupid nails? I had to ditch a date for this charade. Daddy made me cancel it. What was he thinking for Lady's sake?"
The third one tried to pacify them, his eyes fixated on that outer room, "Hey, come on, guys. Don't be like that. We got a chance to see Lady Antonia. I say it was worth it."
The girl pulled out a filer and began shaping her nails as she snarled, "Don't care. Didn't ask. She is much more of a bitch than she lets on."
The tall one banged on the wall and moaned, "Ahh, who the fuck cares about her? She's out of our league. But my date? MAN! I've been courting her for three months. Three fucking months, and she never bothered with me. But now that her lover died in Duskfall, she finally gave me a chance. It was my only opportunity! Shit. Shit. Shit. I can't believe it!"
The girl threw him a disgusted look while checking the shape of her nails, "You're annoying. Just leave and go to your stupid date."
He pulled his hair, letting out the words through gritted teeth, "And have my old man bury me alive? He's definitely lurking around here somewhere. If I don't do this correctly, I am going to get my allowance cut for who knows how long."
Ughhh. That was it. He didn't need to hear any more of their stupid gossip. He had listened enough opinions to get a picture of what was going on anyway.
There were all kinds of opinions on the matter. Some were going into this naively, while others understood the risk but still wanted to join the Vigil.
A couple just tagged along because of the hype while some came because of family pressure. There were then obviously the ones who wanted to use this as an opportunity to further themselves.
But what surprised Vern was the nonchalance of these people. A lot of them acted like Duskfall hadn't just wiped a third of the world out of existence without any explanation.
They didn't feel any sense of responsibility towards society, even with their great powers.
.
.
.
Vern shook his head. Such was life. Everyone was the main character in their story, and he had no reason to try to tell them what was wrong and what wasn't.
As three more elevators came back down, the handler opened its brass door and gestured everyone in. Vern and Lucian finally managed to board one for themselves alongside three other people. The handler fastened the latch back on, and soon, the contraption began its ascent.
CRRANK.
Vern took this opportunity to admire the structure of this different kind of elevator. It was such a rush when simply analyzing those curves and thinking about their design caused a new insight to blossom within his Thought Space.
When they stepped out of the elevator up top and then the enclosing room, a chilly wind picked up and quickly cooled him down. It was pretty much the height of winter, after all.
Luckily, Nvoria used to get far more colder than this. So, this somewhat chilly weather felt endearing instead.
"Hey, I am gonna go talk to some of these beauties. It should be a walk in the park to start the conversation with such a gorgeous view right in front of us. Care to be my wingman?" said Lucian with a conspiratorial look.
Vern held back a sigh and advised, "It's not a good idea."
"Your loss," Lucian shrugged and left those words in the air, walking past him.
Vern shook his head and ignored the guy who was about to become the butt of many jokes, focusing on his surroundings instead. Many slimmer sub-towers were connected to this landing, reaching higher into the skies supported by flying buttresses and large pillars.
But he quickly forgot all about them. The real beauty of this tower wasn't up here. It was in the wide expanse on display.
Vern walked to the parapet, and the entire city unfolded before his eyes. Not just the immediate vast district but the entirety of the urban sprawl. He could even spot the clocktower next to his hotel in the Fulham borough.
To the north, his gaze landed on a half-ruined peak—the remnants of what used to be the Steamscript relay station. This perspective cast that crater Ari had inadvertently made in a new light.
Seconds turned into minutes as he took in this breathtaking sight, moving from one edge of the tower to the other. It wasn't long before he began to draw a map of his own.
Right when he was outlining some port district on the outer edge of the city, he heard the doors of the adjacent elevator room—one that no one else was allowed to use—open with a bang.
Soon, a rhythmic thump of majestic footsteps resonated in the environment, and an array of handsome men and gorgeous women walked out. The air seemed to crackle as uncanny phenomena transpired with each of their steps.
It was getting started, it seemed. So Vern pocketed his notepad and focused up.
The candidates parted like a sea before this unstoppable ship, their eyes wide with awe. Each stride of the procession appeared to synchronize with some unseen machinery, creating an aura of power and intrigue.
Vern even thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, for the air seemed to become tangible around one of them, while he didn't hear any sounds from the vicinity of another one. The space seemed to distort while the temperature on the roof dropped even lower.
Not even a moment passed, and he spotted a couple familiar faces in this set. Captain Shinsei walked in his usual unkempt attire, a stubble, sword on his side, and a red scarf. But even he seemed to have a unique oppressive charisma to himself today.
All seven of them wore hooded capes with the symbol of an eye etched on it with an insane amount of detailing. However, no one had their hood on except the man in the center who walked in the lead.
Heck, the hood was just the beginning. A pure black blindfold covered the man's eyes, and the shadow of his cloak hid his features.
That beautiful lady with a floating silk veil and black-gold armor with hundreds of plates walked next to the blindfolded man while a red-headed man covered his other side.
But the parted candidates seemed to grow surprised after glancing at that blindfolded figure, some even pointing at the man with trembling hands.
These should be the other captains that Ambrose mentioned, Vern mused.
CLANK
However, right at this moment, something latched onto the stone railing right behind him, and Vern jumped out of the way with a start.
He quickly put his guard up and backed out of there, but soon, a figure pulled itself up the railing and vaulted over effortlessly.
It was…a Kingsmen.
That tricorn hat, a face cover, and thick leather trenchcoat crisscrossed with leather strings—corroded by wind and weather. A dark gray capelet billowed with the man's every move as he cut through the candidates without any effort.
And then, another dark figure leaped over the railing from the other end of the tower. And her mere sight caused Vern to perk up instantly. A scythe gleamed behind the lithe figure of the woman as she moved to join the group, too.
Mistress Amelia! He cheered in his heart, but stood his ground. It would seem off if he tried to start a conversation with Mistress in such a solemn atmosphere.
The tension began to mount as everyone around him became jittery. Their stances grew unstable, their faces a mask of confusion and alarm. A few straight-up retreated to the elevators, almost tripping on their own feet.
Muffled chattering began again, and a surge of incomprehensible sentences backed by fear, confusion, and excitement bombarded his ears.
"Who…who—who do you think is that man in the middle? I think I've seen him before somewhere."
"It can't be. But that can't be! Wasn't he exiled as a kid?"
"Hey, fuck that! What the hell are Kingsmen doing here? They're not even Observers. Who gave them the right to encroach here?"
"Shut up! You wanna get us all killed, don't you?"
"Wasn't this supposed to be a simple recruitment speech? What the hell is going on?"
"Is that Lady Amelia!? The Eclipsed Reaper? I heard she cleansed our city of at least a thousand of those stupid insurgents in just one week! Oh my god, I can't believe she's here! Will we get a chance to work with her?"
"Look at you—"
THUMP
Suddenly, the footsteps came to a halt as they reached the end of the tower. All the captains turned around to face the crowd, and the blindfolded man walked out of the formation. Taking off the layer of the robe in a smooth motion, he took a deep breath and let out a fierce yell.
"OBSERVERS!"
The shout resonated like a thunderclap in everyone's mind, plunging the terrace into utter silence. Vern, too, felt an invisible force pressing down upon him.
As the oppressive silence grew, The man broke it with a dramatic flare of his arms. "I, Akira Ferrovane, stand before you today," he declared, "to shatter the veil of ignorance you have willingly draped over your eyes."
"Hey, you see those two? Do you know them? What family do they belong to?"
Hmm, they were talking about him and Lucian, weren't they?
"Some commoner, I bet. Look at that buffoon's dress. No family would let a son of theirs walk out of the house like that."
Vern didn't agree with their tone and the way they put it, but damn, did he agree with the sentiment.
The whole group giggled. Then, one added, "But did you see the audacity of that butler? He treated our families like shit, calling that Dancer bitch right at that moment."
"Yeah, not just that. He even called these two low-borne from whatever backwater district to the side for a chat. As if those rats mattered more than our Garner familia members."
I see. It was the group that tried to argue with De Flanc. That explained it. A bunch of stuck-ups, for sure.
"Hey, commoners got to stick together and all that, you know?"
"And they call us classist. Who's the real classist here, huh?"
"Hahhaha"
"Hahh, I can't."
Yeah, this wasn't very informational. He had long become immune to jabs from stupid ones who liked to think simply being born into a noble family put them above everyone else.
He had been at the same tables as many nobles because of his profession, so he knew exactly what went through their minds. The depths of their depravity were nothing new to him. But obviously, there were all kinds of nobles in the world—just like commoners. He wasn't one to generalize for the sake of it.
"Next group, please." hollered the handler, and luckily, it was the set of bitches that wouldn't stop with their disdainful commentary.
Taking a deep breath, he let it go. It wasn't worth arguing with people like these. Moving his attention over to another group, he closed in. That guy who was playing with motes of light was also here.
One of the men grumbled, "This is ridiculous. I've only been an Observer for ten days. Just ten days! Why did my family even accept this absurd invitation? I'm nowhere near prepared for whatever this is."
A second man bobbed his head in agreement, "Exactly. I've got no interest in being a guinea pig for some untested venture. Bet they're just winging it. We'll sit through their spiel, then make a quick exit, right?"
The first man's resolve firmed as he spoke, "Indeed. We should wait and see if this organization is worth joining or not. If this organization proves itself, joining later won't be an issue. They'll need us nobles eventually—commoners lack the Observation Records, after all."
But that's when the Light manipulator interjected with a serene composure, "It's about the first mover's advantage."
Shoving his hands in his pocket, he leaned on the wall and continued, "If we don't join it during its early days, we will be giving up the golden opportunity to shape the future. Once the groundwork is laid and internal alliances are formed, changing anything gets exponentially harder."
Then he narrowed his eyes and declared, "So if you all want to chicken out, go right ahead. I am nabbing my place in the founders."
"But Whit, aren't you concerned about the risks?" another questioned, skepticism lacing his tone. "You think it's going to be that simple?"
A different voice piped up, somewhat reluctantly, "He does have a point, though."
Then the handler interjected again, and three more groups were sent to the top of the tower, including the one he was eavesdropping on.
Vern looked at the pocket watch. There were still about twenty minutes, and only a couple more groups were left ahead of them.
Now, he didn't even need to strain to hear what was being discussed. It was a group of two guys and one girl.
The girl whined, "Why are we hereeee? I could've gotten my nails done in this time."
The taller one mumbled, his voice getting louder by the second, "Who cares about your stupid nails? I had to ditch a date for this charade. Daddy made me cancel it. What was he thinking for Lady's sake?"
The third one tried to pacify them, his eyes fixated on that outer room, "Hey, come on, guys. Don't be like that. We got a chance to see Lady Antonia. I say it was worth it."
The girl pulled out a filer and began shaping her nails as she snarled, "Don't care. Didn't ask. She is much more of a bitch than she lets on."
The tall one banged on the wall and moaned, "Ahh, who the fuck cares about her? She's out of our league. But my date? MAN! I've been courting her for three months. Three fucking months, and she never bothered with me. But now that her lover died in Duskfall, she finally gave me a chance. It was my only opportunity! Shit. Shit. Shit. I can't believe it!"
The girl threw him a disgusted look while checking the shape of her nails, "You're annoying. Just leave and go to your stupid date."
He pulled his hair, letting out the words through gritted teeth, "And have my old man bury me alive? He's definitely lurking around here somewhere. If I don't do this correctly, I am going to get my allowance cut for who knows how long."
Ughhh. That was it. He didn't need to hear any more of their stupid gossip. He had listened enough opinions to get a picture of what was going on anyway.
There were all kinds of opinions on the matter. Some were going into this naively, while others understood the risk but still wanted to join the Vigil.
A couple just tagged along because of the hype while some came because of family pressure. There were then obviously the ones who wanted to use this as an opportunity to further themselves.
But what surprised Vern was the nonchalance of these people. A lot of them acted like Duskfall hadn't just wiped a third of the world out of existence without any explanation.
They didn't feel any sense of responsibility towards society, even with their great powers.
.
.
.
Vern shook his head. Such was life. Everyone was the main character in their story, and he had no reason to try to tell them what was wrong and what wasn't.
As three more elevators came back down, the handler opened its brass door and gestured everyone in. Vern and Lucian finally managed to board one for themselves alongside three other people. The handler fastened the latch back on, and soon, the contraption began its ascent.
CRRANK.
Vern took this opportunity to admire the structure of this different kind of elevator. It was such a rush when simply analyzing those curves and thinking about their design caused a new insight to blossom within his Thought Space.
When they stepped out of the elevator up top and then the enclosing room, a chilly wind picked up and quickly cooled him down. It was pretty much the height of winter, after all.
Luckily, Nvoria used to get far more colder than this. So, this somewhat chilly weather felt endearing instead.
"Hey, I am gonna go talk to some of these beauties. It should be a walk in the park to start the conversation with such a gorgeous view right in front of us. Care to be my wingman?" said Lucian with a conspiratorial look.
Vern held back a sigh and advised, "It's not a good idea."
"Your loss," Lucian shrugged and left those words in the air, walking past him.
Vern shook his head and ignored the guy who was about to become the butt of many jokes, focusing on his surroundings instead. Many slimmer sub-towers were connected to this landing, reaching higher into the skies supported by flying buttresses and large pillars.
But he quickly forgot all about them. The real beauty of this tower wasn't up here. It was in the wide expanse on display.
Vern walked to the parapet, and the entire city unfolded before his eyes. Not just the immediate vast district but the entirety of the urban sprawl. He could even spot the clocktower next to his hotel in the Fulham borough.
To the north, his gaze landed on a half-ruined peak—the remnants of what used to be the Steamscript relay station. This perspective cast that crater Ari had inadvertently made in a new light.
Seconds turned into minutes as he took in this breathtaking sight, moving from one edge of the tower to the other. It wasn't long before he began to draw a map of his own.
Right when he was outlining some port district on the outer edge of the city, he heard the doors of the adjacent elevator room—one that no one else was allowed to use—open with a bang.
Soon, a rhythmic thump of majestic footsteps resonated in the environment, and an array of handsome men and gorgeous women walked out. The air seemed to crackle as uncanny phenomena transpired with each of their steps.
It was getting started, it seemed. So Vern pocketed his notepad and focused up.
The candidates parted like a sea before this unstoppable ship, their eyes wide with awe. Each stride of the procession appeared to synchronize with some unseen machinery, creating an aura of power and intrigue.
Vern even thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, for the air seemed to become tangible around one of them, while he didn't hear any sounds from the vicinity of another one. The space seemed to distort while the temperature on the roof dropped even lower.
Not even a moment passed, and he spotted a couple familiar faces in this set. Captain Shinsei walked in his usual unkempt attire, a stubble, sword on his side, and a red scarf. But even he seemed to have a unique oppressive charisma to himself today.
All seven of them wore hooded capes with the symbol of an eye etched on it with an insane amount of detailing. However, no one had their hood on except the man in the center who walked in the lead.
Heck, the hood was just the beginning. A pure black blindfold covered the man's eyes, and the shadow of his cloak hid his features.
That beautiful lady with a floating silk veil and black-gold armor with hundreds of plates walked next to the blindfolded man while a red-headed man covered his other side.
But the parted candidates seemed to grow surprised after glancing at that blindfolded figure, some even pointing at the man with trembling hands.
These should be the other captains that Ambrose mentioned, Vern mused.
CLANK
However, right at this moment, something latched onto the stone railing right behind him, and Vern jumped out of the way with a start.
He quickly put his guard up and backed out of there, but soon, a figure pulled itself up the railing and vaulted over effortlessly.
It was…a Kingsmen.
That tricorn hat, a face cover, and thick leather trenchcoat crisscrossed with leather strings—corroded by wind and weather. A dark gray capelet billowed with the man's every move as he cut through the candidates without any effort.
And then, another dark figure leaped over the railing from the other end of the tower. And her mere sight caused Vern to perk up instantly. A scythe gleamed behind the lithe figure of the woman as she moved to join the group, too.
Mistress Amelia! He cheered in his heart, but stood his ground. It would seem off if he tried to start a conversation with Mistress in such a solemn atmosphere.
The tension began to mount as everyone around him became jittery. Their stances grew unstable, their faces a mask of confusion and alarm. A few straight-up retreated to the elevators, almost tripping on their own feet.
Muffled chattering began again, and a surge of incomprehensible sentences backed by fear, confusion, and excitement bombarded his ears.
"Who…who—who do you think is that man in the middle? I think I've seen him before somewhere."
"It can't be. But that can't be! Wasn't he exiled as a kid?"
"Hey, fuck that! What the hell are Kingsmen doing here? They're not even Observers. Who gave them the right to encroach here?"
"Shut up! You wanna get us all killed, don't you?"
"Wasn't this supposed to be a simple recruitment speech? What the hell is going on?"
"Is that Lady Amelia!? The Eclipsed Reaper? I heard she cleansed our city of at least a thousand of those stupid insurgents in just one week! Oh my god, I can't believe she's here! Will we get a chance to work with her?"
"Look at you—"
THUMP
Suddenly, the footsteps came to a halt as they reached the end of the tower. All the captains turned around to face the crowd, and the blindfolded man walked out of the formation. Taking off the layer of the robe in a smooth motion, he took a deep breath and let out a fierce yell.
"OBSERVERS!"
The shout resonated like a thunderclap in everyone's mind, plunging the terrace into utter silence. Vern, too, felt an invisible force pressing down upon him.
As the oppressive silence grew, The man broke it with a dramatic flare of his arms. "I, Akira Ferrovane, stand before you today," he declared, "to shatter the veil of ignorance you have willingly draped over your eyes."
