Tower Of God: Life As Hoaqin

I did nothing.

I simply… stayed alive.

After pushing away my teammates with my own hands, all that remained around me was solitude, and life lost its meaning.

I had gone into seclusion in the Outer Tower, and decades passed like that.

From time to time, unbearable mental anguish would come crashing down on me—and each time it did, the scars on my wrists only increased.

Unfortunately, my body no longer died from something like that.

I tried again and again over the decades, but not once did I succeed.

Looking at it that way, I really am pathetic.

I can't even die when I want to.

No—maybe I didn't truly want to die.

Maybe I just wanted to feel a different kind of pain, one intense enough to drown out this agony gnawing at my heart.

But aside from this pain that consumed my mind, my body refused to accept any other suffering.

Simply by existing—by breathing on this 89th Floor—my body continued to grow stronger. My control over shinsu increased explosively as well. If this had been the past, I would have been jumping for joy. After all, I was as much of a battle junkie as Maschenny.

But that was a long time ago.

Now, I felt no interest in anything.

No—more than that, I hated this body.

A useless shell, good for nothing but slaughtering FUG.

As time passed, my body only hardened further. My senses dulled, and I could no longer feel ordinary pain. Naturally, the severity of my self-harm escalated, and my emotions dried up.

Then one day, I happened to hear a rumor that there was a FUG hideout near where I lived.

So I went.

There were several strong Rankers, even a High Ranker—but once again, I failed to die.

Once again, I felt almost no pain.

Even with my entire body soaked in blood, I felt nothing at all.

I sat down on the empty throne and simply closed my eyes.

I hadn't slept properly since that day a hundred years ago—so this time was no different. I just leaned back against the throne, exhausted.

"Hoaquin!"

Ah. That voice…

It sounded more mature now, but there was no mistaking it.

When I opened my eyes despite the annoyance, she was there.

Maschenny.

She had grown taller, her features more refined. Compared to the original timeline, she looked a little younger—but the outfits she used to wear back during the Festival and as a D-rank Regular had been replaced by something closer to an elegant dress.

She'd changed a lot.

Still beautiful.

She stood in front of me, clearly more grown up than before—but the expression she wore was far from pleasant.

How did she even find this place…

I slowly stood up from the throne, covering the wrist marked with scars.

For some reason, I didn't want her to see it.

The problem was, Maschenny immediately found my behavior suspicious.

"Hoaquin. Come here."

"Maschenny, wait—!"

Too late.

Her expression froze solid in an instant.

This is why I didn't want to show her.

Why are you digging this up on your own?

I felt irritation spike, and without thinking, I roughly shook off the hand gripping my wrist.

Honestly, it wasn't something she needed to worry about.

I'd failed. That was all.

Why make such a big deal out of it?

"Don't worry too much. I haven't succeeded yet, so—"

Smack.

Something suddenly slammed into my face.

My head snapped to the side.

What…?

An enemy ambush?

No—

Maschenny's… fist?

Why—?

"Sorry. I have a bad habit of hitting people who aren't in their right mind."

"Hoaquin. Get a grip."

It didn't actually hurt.

But somehow… it still felt painful.

With my head turned from the blow, I glanced at her eyes.

Shock. Sadness. Anger. Relief. Too many emotions mixed together to count.

I touched the spot she'd hit.

As expected, I still felt no physical pain.

But… what was this feeling?

Something deep inside my chest ached.

Still, what bothered me more was her sharp rebuke.

My emotions flared up.

"…Get a grip?"

"Yes."

Maschenny was just as shaken—her breathing uneven, her eyes cold and fixed on me.

"Why did you end up like this? The you I knew—!"

"A pathetic Arie who couldn't do anything while the people close to him died in agony without him even knowing. That's who I really am, Maschenny. Stronger than Rankers or not, in the end, I couldn't do a damn thing."

"I told you over and over through the Pocket—it was something no one could have stopped. It wasn't your fault."

"No. It was my fault. If I had been there, I could have stopped it. If I had been there, none of them would have died. You tell me to get a grip? This—this is the real me. The truth hidden behind the smile. This is who I am, Maschenny."

My attitude—one that had abandoned everything, that found meaning in nothing—only made her angrier.

"…Why did you change this much?"

"I'm tired. I'm tired of hoping. Tired of soaking myself in FUG's blood. Tired of climbing the Tower. None of it means anything anymore. This must be as far as I was meant to go."

"…Don't run away from reality, Hoaquin. How is that any different from being a coward?"

"It isn't. I've always been a coward who runs away."

At that, Maschenny shouted.

"That's wrong! Why do you think I traveled with you in the first place?! The Hoaquin I knew was an adventurer and a warrior who climbed the Tower chasing excitement—someone like me! Not a coward carving up his own wrists!"

Her words hit a nerve.

I snapped, stepping right up to her and raising my voice.

"What do you know?! Vicente, Albelda, Anna, Leblanc—everyone! They're all dead! Do you have any idea how many years I spent with them?! Do you know what promises I made to them?! I couldn't protect a single thing! I had the power, and still did nothing—and that pathetic coward cutting his wrists is me! What meaning does the Tower have for someone like me who has nothing left?! What do you know?!"

In response to my violent emotions, the shinsu around us went berserk.

Kwaaaa—!

"Ghk—!"

Maschenny was swept up by the raging shinsu vortex, lifted briefly into the air before crashing to the ground.

Shocked by what I'd done—something I neither expected nor intended—I rushed toward her.

"Ma—Maschenny! I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"Enough."

She brushed off my help, stood up, and turned her back on me.

Then she walked out of the castle.

…Damn it.

I lost my temper and said things I shouldn't have.

I didn't mean to be that harsh.

The look on her face—blank with shock right after my outburst—kept resurfacing in my mind, and the regret only grew stronger.

Once again, I pushed away someone who came to me of their own will.

As she turned to leave the castle gates, I felt the urge to stop her—to grab her arm and tell her not to go.

But in the end, I didn't.

Maschenny would leave now.

Maybe… she would never come back.

In the end, I really am pathetic.

After she left, the castle— which had felt as though a storm had torn through it—quickly returned to silence. Still drenched in blood, I washed myself clean with shinsu and sat back down on the throne.

If only I could sleep forever like this.

Without pain.

Without suffering.

With that thought, I closed my eyes once more, seeking a sleep that never came.

....

"…?"

At some point, night had fallen.

I woke suddenly.

Normally, that only happened when I sensed a presence nearby—but the castle was pitch-dark and as eerily quiet as ever.

It didn't feel like FUG.

…Above?

The presence wasn't moving, which was why it took me a moment to pinpoint its direction.

Who was it?

Someone who'd lost their way and wandered in here?

Usually, as long as there was no hostility, I wouldn't care—but for some reason, tonight, I felt curious. More than that, the atmosphere on the 89th Floor felt… different.

Especially up there.

With that in mind, I climbed the stairs leading to the roof of the castle.

And there, at last, I met the one who had awakened me.

Blue hair. Blue eyes. Familiar clothing.

"…Maschenny?"

She glanced at me briefly, then motioned with her eyes for me to come closer.

Why was she still here?

Confusion—and joy.

A mix of emotions washed over me as I cautiously approached her.

"…Didn't you leave?"

"Leave? Why would I?" she replied flatly. "I'm staying here. I just went out to get some air earlier."

I tried to smile at what might have been a joke, but my face wouldn't cooperate. So instead, I awkwardly sat down beside her.

She remained silent, gazing up at the night sky.

The ceiling was completely covered in clouds—what was there to look at?

"…What are you doing here?"

"Waiting."

"…For what?"

She raised a finger to her lips.

"Shh."

"For you. And—"

She pointed toward a spot in the cloud-covered sky.

Following her gesture, my gaze shifted upward.

And then, I saw it.

Uuuuuuuung—

"…Ah."

From between the clouds came a grand, beautiful sound.

It was a cry—one so rich and resonant it rivaled any instrument. But I knew instantly it wasn't artificial.

Uuuuuuuung—

A massive white whale emerged from the clouds.

On its back stood a single enormous tree, its branches heavy with blossoms so beautiful that even from afar, they were breathtaking.

Uuuuuuuung—

And it wasn't just one.

After the first whale swam gracefully past us, another broke through the clouds in the distance.

Then another.

And another.

Soon, the cloud-covered ceiling filled with their hauntingly beautiful chorus, countless gigantic white whales swimming through the sky.

Uuuuuung—

I could only stare, entranced by their song.

They were beautiful.

Maschenny watched my expression with quiet satisfaction before speaking.

"Cranberry White Whales. Along with Jigena, they're the only Divine Sea Fish that grow flowers on their bodies. Around this time of year, all of them gather and migrate together."

"But… why show this to me?" I asked.

She looked at me like I was an idiot.

"So you were just going to stay holed up on the 89th Floor and sleep through this?"

…I didn't even know this existed.

"Well, whatever," she said. "Anyway, the flowers on those trees are cranberries. Do you know what their flower language is?"

I shook my head slightly.

"Overcoming."

"..."

Silence followed.

But it wasn't awkward—every so often, the whales' calls filled the space between us.

Maschenny turned to look at me.

"Hoaquin. Earlier, I didn't get to say this because I was angry—but do you really think there's nothing left for you?"

"…."

My brows trembled slightly.

There was something left.

Even if I couldn't find Vicente's, there were Albelda's scarf, Anna's stuffed bear, and Leblanc's final wish—the one she protected with her life, even if I didn't yet know what it was.

And beyond those tangible things…

"…There is."

You, Maschenny.

Hwarang.

Luf.

And all the other bonds I'd built along the way.

"We can't replace those kids," Maschenny said quietly.

"We were never meant to be substitutes. But I'll stay as myself—by your side. And the others will too."

"So don't you change either."

"...…"

Did I not know that already?

Of course I did.

But the grief covering my eyes was too heavy to let me see it.

Hearing it directly—from her—made it different.

"…Maschenny, I…"

The words caught in my throat.

The emotions I'd forced down for so long finally overflowed.

I felt moisture in my eyes.

"I'm… not confident. If I go back to the 99th Floor—if I stand where it happened—if I feel even the faintest trace of them… if even a single memory comes back…"

"I don't think I can endure it."

I couldn't continue.

A few stray tears fell onto the stone beneath us.

Suddenly, she placed a hand on my head and gently ruffled my hair.

It was embarrassing—but I didn't pull away.

Not now.

Just for now.

I let myself sink into the comfort of a feeling I hadn't known in far too long.

"…Maschenny."

"What?"

"Thank you. For coming to find me."

"…I still have to rematch you someday," she said dryly. "Can't do that if you turn into a wreck."

"…Haha. Right."

By the time the whales finished their song and moved on to another floor, the night had grown quiet once more.

And for the first time in nearly a hundred years,

I slept deeply—with a peaceful expression, just like I used to.