Utopian System

"Impossible," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the roar of the Locus.

The inverted cone, an aberration in the sea of monsters, began to slowly blur.

"Fascinating," Raelar whispered, his voice hushed in awe.

"Fascinating isn't the word I'd use," Selene retorted, her tone laden with tension. "Dangerous, perhaps. Potentially catastrophic, certainly."

Lucien remained silent, his face a mask of calm with undertones of... guilt? His eyes surveyed the scene: the gradually rising cone, the surrounding sea of monsters churning, creating waves of chitin and fury that crashed against the wall's base.

"The soldiers are restless," Lucien finally said, breaking his silence. "We need to control this before rumors spiral out of our control."

Raelar nodded, his mind already working on possible solutions. "We could say it's an anomaly in Locus behavior. A natural phenomenon that will resolve itself."

Selene snorted in disbelief. "Natural? This is about as natural as the mana barrier flowing upwards. The soldiers aren't fools."

"They don't need to believe it," Lucien said, his voice carrying an authority that brooked no argument. "They just need to repeat it until we find a better explanation."

"Or until the truth catches up with us," Raelar murmured, his gaze fixed on the still-deforming cone.

The three exchanged glances. Years of working together allowed them to communicate without words, understanding what was at stake.

"Raelar," Lucien began, "could you handle the soldiers? Use whatever necessary: veiled threats, promises of rewards, whatever works. No one outside this section of the wall should know what's happening."

Raelar nodded, comprehending the task. "I'll take care of it. But we'll need a more solid explanation soon. Uncertainty will only fuel rumors."

"We'll work on that," Lucien assured. He then turned to Selene. "We need to block information for now. Discreetly."

Selene flashed a wry smile. "When have I ever been indiscreet?"

Lucien didn't respond to her quip. His attention was fixed on the cone.

Selene nodded disappointed. "I'll ensure no soldier leaves their section."

As Raelar moved away to fulfill his task, Selene lingered a moment longer, studying Lucien with a penetrating gaze.

"You know you can trust us, right?" she finally said, her voice barely a whisper.

Lucien closed his eyes for a moment, as if the weight of an invisible world was crushing him. When he opened them again, his gaze was steely.

"I know," he responded, his voice laden with an emotion he rarely showed.

As Selene walked away, Lucien turned his attention back to the cone. His mind traveled to the moment he had condemned Elio, his savior's son, to certain death. Or so he had thought... No, it was impossible. Even with 100,000 soldiers behind him, Lucien wouldn't last an hour down there, but...

'Could you have survived?' he thought, the image of Elio falling replaying in his mind. 'And if you did, what have you unleashed?'

Along the wall, soldiers murmured, casting nervous glances at the phenomenon. Raelar moved among them, his voice calm but authoritative.

"Soldiers," he began, his tone brooking no argument, "what you're witnessing is a natural phenomenon, albeit unusual. It's not a threat to the city. Anyone spreading rumors or speculation will be considered a traitor and treated as such. Is that clear?"

The soldiers nodded, some more convinced than others. Raelar continued his rounds, stopping here and there to speak quietly with key men, occasionally slipping something into their hands.

♢♢♢♢

>>Mana: 23. Meters: 110.

Elio moved like a bolt of lightning, leaping from one monster to another, his hands and feet landing on the most improbable surfaces. His movements were a desperate dance, each step a gamble against gravity and the writhing mass of Locus.

Until a Locus managed to grasp his leg. Elio felt panic rise in his throat, threatening to choke him. He knew he'd have to defeat the monster to break free from its 10-point strength grip.

It was his only option.

Four fireballs in rapid succession found the Locus before it could bite Elio. With his 24 points of magical damage, he hoped it would be enough. But the Locus didn't falter; its resistance must be at the full 100 points as the book had mentioned. Elio decided to save one mana point, dealing the final 4 damage points with his lance.

Mana: 19. Meters: 122

Elio's head spun, his vision blurring intermittently. He fought against the vertigo, acutely aware that a moment of weakness could be fatal.

Four more meters of agonizing climbing. Each movement was torment, his muscles screaming in protest. The air grew thinner, making each breath a laborious task.

A group of Locus converged towards him, drawn by his movement. Elio was forced to use another helium gust to disperse them.

Mana: 18. Meters: 134.

The impulse carried him to a section where Locus were falling in greater numbers. Elio struggled to find stable footholds, each second a battle against being dragged downwards.

Three more meters, gained inch by excruciating inch. Elio could feel his strength waning, each movement consuming his fading reserves.

A Locus fell directly on top of him. Elio barely had time to react, his instincts taking over where his conscious mind faltered.

Mana: 17. Meters: 151.

Three more meters of desperate ascent.

Battling against gravity, exhaustion, and the mass of monsters threatening to engulf him.

Four more meters of frantic climbing. Elio moved on pure instinct now, his mind clouded by exhaustion and oxygen deprivation. Each decision was a roll of the dice, each movement a wager against death.

Three more meters, gained through sheer force of will. Elio could feel his strength ebbing away, like sand through an hourglass.

A Locus leapt just above him, its mandibles open in a threatening roar. Elio reacted on pure reflex.

Mana: 16. Meters: 149.

The helium gust sent the monster flying, but also pushed Elio backwards. For a terrifying moment, he felt himself falling. His hands scrabbled desperately at a monster's back, seeking anything to grasp.

He managed to grab onto a Locus's leg, his body swinging precariously over the abyss. Sweat made his hands slippery, and for a moment, he thought this would be his end.