From time to time, tremors ran through the structure, deep vibrations rising from within the tower, making the stone walls shudder beneath our hands while small particles of dust drifted down from the ceiling.
At first, everyone seemed skeptical about the severity of our situation. Some even tried to keep light conversations going, as if ignoring the danger might make it less real. However, with each new tremor, the tension silently grew among us, creeping into exchanged glances and the way everyone unconsciously picked up their pace.
That said, strangely enough, nothing happened. No bizarre apparition emerged from the shadows, no grotesque or ravenous anomaly actively tried to devour us... which, at this point, I had to admit, was deeply unsettling.
Should I feel strange for finding it strange that nothing was trying to kill me? That line of thought alone was confusing enough to draw a quiet sigh from me. Still, the silence persisted.
The fact that nothing happened, or rather, nothing appeared, made everyone visibly more relaxed. Shoulders that had been stiff began to lower, breaths became less shallow, and even their gazes lost some of their constant tension.
Of course, nobody truly let their guard down; this definitely wasn’t the kind of place where carelessness kept you alive. But compared to the oppressive atmosphere from before, there was a noticeable shift.
Naturally, the tremors continued, arriving at irregular intervals that felt impossible to predict. Each vibration sent small clouds of dust shaking loose from the walls, spreading through the dry, heavy air. Rupert was already visibly irritated, his patience wearing thinner with every tremor.
After another jolt shook the tower, he brought a hand to his face, blinking hard as he rubbed his eye: “Damn... I think dust got in my eye” he muttered, his voice heavy with frustration as he tried to see through the faint haze hanging in the air. He let out an impatient sigh and shook his head, clearly exhausted with the situation: “This is, without a doubt, one of the worst expeditions I’ve ever gotten myself into”
Victor, walking a few steps ahead of Rupert, raised an eyebrow, his expression marked by genuine confusion. He tilted his head slightly over his shoulder before asking: “I thought that was the incident where you almost got eaten by a giant fish in the city...” He paused briefly, as if organizing his own memories: “By the way, the [Angel of Death] was with you and your team back then, right?”
A thoughtful shadow crossed his face as he narrowed his eyes, trying to recall the details: “You never really explained much...”
Victor gave a small shrug, casual yet curious: “You just mentioned something about a stupid giant fish that ended up turning into tuna...” He let out a short nasal sigh: “What the hell does that even mean?”
Rupert didn’t answer directly, he merely grumbled something about a “stupid tuna” before falling silent, as if he’d already spent too much energy just complaining. Victor allowed himself a faint, almost lazy side-smile as he shrugged again, accepting the comment without pressing further.
Around them, members of the response team who had also witnessed the scene wore similar expressions, tired looks that were half amused, half resigned, as if trying to find some lightness amid exhaustion.
In a way, that mundane conversation served as a release valve for the tension that had been building ever since we entered the tower, a colossal structure that everyone, with almost sarcastic humor, had started calling “Babel” We had already been climbing for about three uninterrupted hours, facing endless steps that seemed to multiply with every turn.
Naturally, we took ten-minute breaks here and there, leaning against the cold walls to catch our breath or check equipment, but that now felt like a distant detail in the face of growing exhaustion and the unsettling sense that the tower was still far from revealing its end.
However, my real concern was Arthur. He was quiet, too quiet. Normally that wouldn’t be unusual for him, silence had always felt like a natural extension of his presence. Still, something was different this time.
We were climbing a tower that shook unstably every few minutes, creaking as if something massive was moving inside it, and he remained completely silent. Worse still, with each new tremor, Arthur seemed to withdraw further into his thoughts.
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Maybe I was becoming paranoid, but whenever he acted like this it meant he suspected something... and usually something that almost always wanted to kill us, or at the very least, devour us.
Watching the tense expression on his face, I felt my curiosity grow. After a few seconds of hesitation, I decided to ask: (You’re making that face you usually make right before something dangerous tries to kill us)
Arthur turned his gaze toward me, his eyes fixed on mine for a few seconds that felt longer than they really were. A soft smile appeared at the corner of his lips, subtle, almost tired, before he gave a small shrug.
His reply came straight into my mind, laced with a kind of resigned irony: (Well... I guess I should apologize for being a lightning rod for life-or-death situations)
The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. His expression darkened, his brows drawing together slightly as something more serious took over his face: (I...) he hesitated, as if searching for the right words.
Arthur looked away toward the dark abyss below us, where the spiral staircase vanished into shadow as we climbed step by step. A faint wind rose from the depths, carrying with it an unsettling sensation: (I feel like something is coming up... and that’s what’s causing the tremors)
I glanced down, following his gaze, trying to see if there really was something behind us. If it was what I imagined, and considering the strength needed to make the entire tower shake, it would have to be something colossal.
Even so, we had been climbing for hours, step after step, and nothing had appeared. With that thought in mind, I opened my mouth to speak, but before any words could escape, another tremor struck us, far stronger, deeper, like a roar rising from the very guts of the tower, shaking the air around us.
***
(POV - Emily Parker)
The atmosphere in the room was... strange. The constant sound of keyboards filled the space like mechanical rain, interrupted only by the occasional sigh from the few scientists who still remained. Aside from that, silence dominated the room.
Emily had never liked prolonged silence. She crossed her arms, trying to ignore the tension slowly creeping into her muscles
Even so, their mind kept drifting back to the recent conversation with the angelic anomaly, especially the cryptic words about the haunting. Each memory seemed to take on new meaning, like pieces of a puzzle rearranging themselves in real time.
For some inexplicable reason, the haunting had stopped provoking her. Instead of the constant remarks and irritating insinuations, it now remained completely silent, and that annoyed Emily just as much, or perhaps even more, than when it wouldn’t stop talking.
She couldn’t say what had changed about the haunting, she only felt that something was different. To make matters worse, the angelic anomaly watched everything with a soft, curious smile, eyes gleaming as if it were watching a particularly entertaining play.
Emily let out another long, quiet sigh, as though trying to push her thoughts out of her chest. Beside her, Laura had noticed it some time ago, the frequent sighs, the distant gaze, the restless fingers intertwining for no apparent reason. Fortunately, she didn’t ask anything.
Emily was deeply grateful for that respectful silence. She didn’t want to talk about it with anyone... anyone except the one truly involved. The angelic anomaly’s words continued to spin relentlessly in her mind.
Feeling the tension building in her chest, Emily closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling slowly. There was no point in avoiding it anymore. She needed answers. And that was when she decided: she would settle this once and for all.
With an exasperated expression, Emily walked toward the haunting, which had turned one of the tables into a kind of improvised bed. To her surprise, and slight irritation, it actually seemed to like the table
The soft sound of her footsteps echoed through the room as she approached, crossing her arms briefly before stopping close enough to be noticed: “Come with me... I need to talk to you”
The haunting slowly lifted its gaze, looking at Emily with an empty expression that soon shifted into mild confusion, one brow arching in an almost human way: “Alone” Emily added, her tone lower.
The apparition remained silent for a few seconds, watching her closely. Its expression grew thoughtful, as if weighing something carefully, before finally giving a brief nod with an indifferent look.
With that, Emily turned and headed for the exit, the haunting gliding silently beside her as they passed near Laura. Before stepping through the door, she glanced back over her shoulder: “I’ll be out for a few minutes, Laura. Can you handle things for me?”
Laura turned almost immediately and nodded, her posture firm and familiar: “Got it, boss”
She seemed more like herself again, and Emily couldn’t help feeling a small sense of relief. She hated seeing her friend and subordinate so... vulnerable. Emily gave a small nod in return, satisfied, and left her final instruction hanging in the air as she resumed walking toward the door, accompanied by the spectral presence following her.
“Great. Let me know if anything needs my attention” Laura shrugged, a soft smile appearing at the corner of her lips, almost amuse: “Standard protocol, then”
Outside the room, the haunting stared at Emily in silence, its eyes fixed on her with an uncomfortable intensity, though its expression remained strangely indifferent and empty. It didn’t move, didn’t blink, only watched.
Emily held that gaze for several seconds that felt far too long. Finally, she let out a heavy sigh, a mix of exasperation and nervousness. Emily had never liked beating around the bush, and waiting wasn’t helping at all. She decided it would be better to end this quickly, for herself and for that... thing.
“So...” Emily began, her voice low and cautious. Her eyes analyzed every detail of the face in front of her, a painfully familiar face, almost identical to her sister’s. Her chest tightened for a moment: “Are you really her? Are you really Ellie?”
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