Chapter 16: Facilities

  As the four recruits left the dimly lit cssroom, they huddled together, whispering among themselves. Nando, who seemed more talkative than usual, broke the silence first. "Did you see them?" he asked in a hushed tone. "Three Eyes and Samander walked in today."

  Abel and Isabel exchanged confused gnces and shook their heads. Sena, however, nodded with a grim look on his face. "I saw them," he replied. "They looked intimidating."

  "Who are they?" Abel asked, sensing an undercurrent of anxiety in his friends' voices. He felt like he had missed something crucial.

  Nando adjusted his posture, lowering his voice even further. "They’re non-gifted recruits like us, but they've made enormous strides in their research. Word is they’re on the brink of a breakthrough and might become Apostles soon."

  Abel felt a chill at those words. Non-gifted recruits becoming Apostles was rare; it required ingenuity, resilience, and a willingness to risk everything. Abel made a mental note to remember these two, ‘Three Eyes’ and ‘Samander.’ He would need to know more.

  Sena chimed in, "But they're not the only ones we need to watch out for. I heard two others are coming back soon, a boy called ‘Wolf’ and a girl known as ‘Gloomeyes.’"

  "Gifted?" Isabel asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Sena nodded. "Gifted, but they’re also dabbling in the knowledge books meant for the non-gifted. They’re not content with the usual path. They want more power, and they’re willing to take risks to get it."

  Nando added, "It’s dangerous for them to do that. If they’re already gifted, they’re almost guaranteed to become Apostles if they stick to their path. For them to risk that... it shows they’re on another level mentally and in terms of ambition."

  The conversation grew heavy with the weight of this new information. Abel felt each name etch itself into his mind, potential allies or future threats, either way, he needed to know them.

  They decided to regroup in Sena’s room ter to strategize further. "We still haven’t been able to get in contact with Ronald," Nando said thoughtfully. "He’s usually on the third floor. If anyone sees him in transition or wandering about, let him know we need to meet."

  The group agreed, and they decided to call themselves “Room Eighty,” a symbol of their shared resolve to change their fates in the Stone Tower. They parted ways with a newfound sense of camaraderie.

  Abel decided to explore more of the Tower and made his way to the library. The path there was lined with faintly glowing glyphs carved into the stone walls, their light barely strong enough to guide his steps. The silence was oppressive, interrupted only by the occasional murmur of distant voices and the creak of ancient wood underfoot.

  When he finally reached the library, he was surprised to find Marcel there, her blue robe trailing behind her as she arranged a stack of old scrolls. She looked up and met his eyes, her expression as unreadable as ever.

  "So, you’ve found your way to the library," Marcel remarked, her voice like the rustling of leaves. "Here, knowledge is as precious as gold. Every visit will cost you a contribution point."

  Abel gnced around the room. The library was smaller than the grand one he had seen earlier, but it still possessed a certain gravity. Rows of ancient bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling, filled with tomes of various shapes and sizes. The air was thick with the smell of old parchment and the faint, acrid tang of alchemical experiments gone wrong.

  He nodded respectfully. "I have five points, but I think I’ll save them for now. Maybe for something more essential ter on."

  Marcel's lips curled into a faint smile. "Wise choice. Many come here and spend all they have without understanding the true cost of knowledge. They often leave with more questions than answers."

  Abel thanked her and took his leave, noting the eerie stillness of the library as he walked away.

  His next destination was the cafeteria. As he made his way there, he passed by groups of recruits conversing in hushed tones, some exchanging gnces of envy or distrust. The cafeteria itself was a vast hall filled with long wooden tables and benches. It was dimly lit, with flickering nterns hanging from the ceiling, casting a sickly yellow glow across the room. Despite its size, the pce was nearly empty, the silence broken only by the distant ctter of a spoon or the scraping of a chair.

  Abel noticed a row of small, open windows along one wall, behind which cooks moved about mechanically. Through these windows, recruits could receive their meals. Abel approached one of the windows and asked how much the food would cost.

  "One contribution point," the cook replied gruffly, not bothering to look up.

  "And if I don't have any?" Abel inquired, his voice steady but with a hint of underlying concern.

  "Then you starve," the cook answered ftly, his eyes still focused on his work.

  Abel felt a sinking sensation in his stomach. The Stone Tower was indeed a cruel pce, where even the basic necessities had a price. He asked another cook how one could earn contribution points and was directed to the task office.

  The task office was located at the far end of the first floor, past several groups of recruits who eyed him with suspicion or indifference. It was a wide room with high ceilings, filled with rge wooden boards covered in parchments and notices.

  Abel scanned the room and quickly noticed Gndel, the bald, tattooed faculty member who had overseen their initial assessment. He stood behind a rge desk near the back of the room, his sharp eyes darting around as he kept a close watch on the recruits.

  Gndel’s gaze nded on Abel, and he frowned slightly. "What are you doing here, boy?" he asked, his voice gruff and slightly impatient.

  Abel took a deep breath, feeling the weight of Gndel’s stare. "I wanted to understand how I could earn contribution points, sir."

  Gndel's expression softened, but only slightly. "Contribution points are the currency of this pce, the lifeblood that keeps you moving. Tasks posted on these boards will range from mundane errands to dangerous missions outside the tower’s protection. When you recruits are allowed to select them, pick wisely, because the wrong choice could be your st."

  Abel nodded, absorbing the gravity of Gndel’s words. This was only the beginning, and he had much to learn about surviving in this new, unforgiving world. He gnced at the task boards, his mind already racing with possibilities and potential dangers.