I Don't Need To Log Out

After Arlon sat on something that felt like a rusted car part—its edges uneven, its surface dented—the monster brought over a drink.

The liquid inside the crude metal cup was an unnatural shade of green, almost glowing in the dim light.

Arlon had long since stopped judging things by their appearance.

The food he had at the academy had been strange but edible. Merlin's cooking was downright questionable, yet it had always tasted fine.

So, he took the cup without hesitation. But the moment he touched it, something felt off.

The drink was cold, yet hot at the same time.

It radiated the numbing chill of an ice cube, but the second it touched his tongue, it had the tingling heat of a freshly brewed beverage.

It was bizarre, conflicting—and strangely pleasant.

"It's nice, isn't it? Everyone who tries it reacts like you," the monster said, its voice laced with amusement. "It's my own creation."

Arlon glanced at the monster. He couldn't read its facial expressions well, but he could bet everything he had that it was waiting for a compliment.

"Yeah, it tastes nice," he said, taking another sip. Then, he asked, "By the way, what's your name?"

Until now, he hadn't even considered what to call the monster. He didn't even know its gender, so there wasn't a clear way to address it.

"Ah, I don't have a name," the monster replied. "You can just call me the caretaker."

There was no hesitation, no sign of nostalgia in its tone. It wasn't reminiscing about a past identity—it simply didn't have one.

"It'll be hard to call you 'caretaker' all the time," Arlon said. "Can't you tell me a name?"

The caretaker let out a long sigh before conceding. "Fine… You can call me Jiroeki. That was the name of the last person who came here."

"Sure," Arlon said. "Jiroeki, who are you? And why are you here? Also, what is this place?"

"Hey, slow down." Jiroeki raised a hand. "Don't worry, I'll answer your questions. But let me do it my way so I can do my job properly."

"Ah, sorry about that. Please, go ahead."

Arlon leaned back slightly. He could already tell this was going to be a long story.

"I'm from the planet Herbier," Jiroeki began. "Our planet was magical and peaceful. After a certain amount of chaos, we reached peace—just like every planet does eventually.

But one day, we were attacked. I can't tell you who the attackers were or why they came.

However, there were saviors. They appeared out of nowhere, almost like magic. They didn't act like we were real, but they saved us all the same."

Arlon immediately understood.

The "saviors" Jiroeki spoke of were players—people who had arrived through Zeno capsules. And the attackers… they were probably the ones Karmel had mentioned.

The ones that attacked planets with magic in them. The planets that once received Zeno.

Still, Arlon stayed silent, letting Jiroeki continue.

"I was a kid back then," Jiroeki said. "But I saw things. Things that made me understand what path I had to take.

Some of the saviors grew stronger and stronger, until, one day, they simply vanished. I think the word they used was 'ascended.'"

Arlon already knew what that meant.

Jiroeki continued, "I looked into it. I learned that ascension wasn't exclusive to them—it was possible for us too. So, I devoted my life to ascending.

I killed. And killed. And killed.

But what I killed wasn't just the mindless creatures that roamed our world. I killed my own race.

They were strong. Stronger than the others. The life force I got from them was greater. So, I killed them too."

Arlon narrowed his eyes.

"If you're wondering what kind of race lived on Herbier…" Jiroeki glanced at him. "They're the same monsters you've been killing in this Tower."

Arlon tensed.

"What?" he blurted out. "I've been killing your race this whole time? But they haven't been talking, and I thought they weren't sentient."

He hadn't meant to interrupt, but the shock was too great to hold back.

"Ah, don't worry about it," Jiroeki said, waving a hand dismissively. "They were trapped here because of their own mistakes. I won't judge you for killing them.

The universe is always at war. And, like all planets, I believe it will eventually reach peace."

"Besides," he added, "they are talking. You just don't understand their language. To you, it might sound like screeching or growling, but they are speaking."

Arlon frowned. So the screeching noises the monsters made… That had been their language?

For a moment, he felt a deep discomfort crawl over him. But he shook it off.

Even if they were talking, it wouldn't change anything.

Jiroeki continued.

"I'll come back to that part later. For now, let me finish my own story. I did my best to avoid getting caught. And in the end, I ascended.

It was… the greatest feeling anyone could ever experience. But what awaited me was worse than I could have ever imagined.

In my world, I could hide from those who were stronger than me. But among the ascended, I could hide from no one. And they were waiting for me.

Some were from my own race—people who had ascended before me. They had seen everything I had done.

They saw me massacre my own race, but they couldn't interfere. Because ascended existences don't interfere with the physical world.

But when I ascended… they could do anything they wanted to me. And it wasn't just them.

There were others. Others who knew my sins. They feared I would continue my path. That I would keep killing, even among the ascended.

And it wasn't for nothing. There were some who did that to reach the-

Ah, I can't say more about that part." Jiroeki let out a small laugh, though there was no humor in it. "But I was doomed.

"Until one person saved me. The architect of this Tower.

He told me he needed a caretaker. And if I accepted…

He would let me live."