I Don't Need To Log Out

After a long while, Arlon finally lifted his gaze from the sword in his hands.

His fingers were still curled tightly around the hilt, as if letting go would somehow make it disappear.

He'd spent what felt like minutes just staring—turning the blade, watching how it bent the light, feeling the way its presence subtly pressed against his mana.

He had been utterly captivated.

Its properties were impressive, beyond anything he had hoped for. But its appearance was what had stolen his attention first.

Not because it was beautiful in the traditional sense—but because it felt unreal. As if reality had made an exception just to allow this thing to exist.

And even then, there was still one last piece of information that had tugged at his curiosity.

"Alive."

That word had shown itself when he looked through the Eyes of KET**, appearing in the information section, once again obscured.

Even enhanced by those divine eyes, the sword's identity remained shrouded.

Something about it wasn't allowing full understanding—like the system itself wouldn't show the information.

Eventually, Arlon stopped inspecting.

It wasn't out of satisfaction. It was because he realized something.

Jiroeki was still there.

Still watching. Still silent.

It stood just a few steps away, unmoving, as if it had been waiting the entire time without making the slightest sound.

Of course, it had. This was its home. Its domain. Arlon had been the guest here.

So, after a breath, Arlon straightened and spoke with sincerity.

"Thank you," he said. "You didn't just give me a reward when the Tower refused to. You also helped me understand more about myself… about my level."

It felt strange, expressing gratitude to an existence that still made his skin crawl at times.

But Jiroeki had done more for him than expected—maybe more than it was supposed to.

Jiroeki gave a slight nod. Its expression didn't change, but its voice came, smooth and calm.

"Don't worry about it. Even if I hadn't explained anything, your friend outside would've helped you."

Arlon blinked. It could only mean Agema.

He hadn't mentioned Agema. But he supposed it made sense.

Jiroeki was an ascended existence, and existences like that had ways of knowing things others didn't.

Maybe it had seen Agema waiting or read Arlon's mind, though it wasn't called mind-reading according to Karmel.

Still, it was a little unsettling.

Before he could respond, Jiroeki continued.

"Also… I think we'll see each other again someday. I don't know how many millennia it'll take, though."

Millennia.

For a brief second, Arlon didn't react. But he understood exactly what that meant.

To someone like Jiroeki, time didn't matter. Waiting thousands of years was no different than a single blink.

And the implication was clear—it was saying that Arlon would ascend one day.

But Arlon himself wasn't sure about that.

Unlike the stories he had heard about the ones that did, he wasn't after ascending. He had more urgent things to do.

And since he wasn't after ascending, he wasn't doing research for it or following the path of ascendance like Jiroeki and Agema did.

He didn't know if he was on the right track.

He didn't even know if he was qualified.

But that didn't bother him.

He had time.

If, someday, ascension became a byproduct of his actions—fine. But for now, his plans lay elsewhere.

So he only gave a nod. No promises. No declarations.

Jiroeki seemed to accept that.

"So, this is it," it said. "I'll send you outside the Tower now. Unfortunately, you won't be able to re-enter the Tower you entered."

Arlon looked up, but Jiroeki was already raising its hand.

"But," it added, "if you come across another Tower of Time in the future, you'll be able to enter that one instead. Just… try not to bring another creature with you next time."

Before Arlon could ask what that meant when he said Tower of Time and re-entering—or say anything at all—a light engulfed him.

Not warm. Not cold. Just final.

And in the very next breath, the ground shifted beneath him.

The dirty ground of Floor ??? was gone.

He was outside.

---

Two months and a week.

That was the time Arlon had spent inside the Tower.

At least, that was what the records would say—on Trion or on Earth. A mere two months and a week.

But to Arlon, it had been far longer.

The battles had stretched on for weeks, sometimes longer.

There were stretches of silence, of study, of training that went on for months or years.

And at one point, the training itself had consumed a full decade.

Ten years locked in a space where nothing changed but him.

That was the true nature of the Tower.

That was the process. If an existence wanted to rise, to reach higher than their limits, then time had to be offered as a sacrifice. A slow burn, not a sprint.

But Arlon didn't have that kind of time.

He wasn't like the others who passed through here—born of realms and races where years meant nothing after leveling up.

He was still a human who had only around 80 years to live in total. He was just using the body he borrowed from Zeno.

He couldn't afford to spend decades chasing perfection. Trion didn't have that long either.

Could all of this be called cheating?

Maybe some would call it that. But not really. After all, other beings—stronger, older, more monstrous—had also used the Tower.

They had taken advantage of the same rules. Arlon had just been fortunate enough to find it. Or maybe desperate enough to need it.

Still, even now, even after all he had endured… he didn't know if he was the strongest on Trion. He didn't know if he could defeat Asef.

But this was it. His best chance. His final preparation. He wouldn't get another miracle like this.

That thought drifted in his head as he turned to look toward the place where Agema had been waiting all this time.

And there she was.

It was as if she hadn't moved. She stood exactly where he had left her, smiling softly, watching him.

And before he could think twice about it, Arlon ran.

He didn't know why. His body moved on its own. There was no logic, no forethought—just the overwhelming need to close the distance between them.

And when he reached her, without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

It surprised even him.

He hadn't planned it. He hadn't thought of doing something like that, not even once.

But the moment he felt her warmth, the tension he had been carrying for what felt like eternity finally cracked.

It had been too long. Far too long, even for someone like Arlon.

Decades—literal decades—alone in that Tower. Fighting, learning, surviving.

Repeating the same movements. Repeating the same spells. Over and over again. A cycle that never ended, in a place that never changed.

And somewhere along the way, he'd stopped noticing how heavy the loneliness had become. How deeply it had sunk into him. He hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge it.

He told himself it didn't matter. That this was just part of the climb. That training didn't need companionship. That he didn't need anyone.

But he had needed someone.

And now that Agema was here, it all came crashing down.

He didn't care that she looked like a celestial being, a radiant flower in full bloom. He didn't care that others might see something strange in this moment. None of that mattered.

He didn't have a mother. Not one that he could call so.

Maybe that was why he reached for Agema now. Maybe he was forcing a role on her that wasn't hers to carry.

But it didn't matter.

Because Agema embraced him in return, one arm around his back, the other gently stroking his hair.

She didn't pull away. She didn't ask questions. She just held him.

And it felt like a reunion he had been waiting for all this time.

A reunion he didn't even know he had needed.

He stayed like that for a long moment. Letting himself breathe. Letting his heartbeat settle.

Three more weeks. That's how much time he had left with her.

Three weeks before she returned to where she came from.

And then...

Arlon changed his mind.

He had thought that he didn't care about ascending only a few minutes ago.

But now, he wanted to ascend.

Not for power.

Not for recognition.

But to see Agema again.

Even after she left. Even after everything else faded.

After a full minute, Arlon finally raised his head.

He wasn't sure if he had cried. He didn't feel any wetness, but the tightness in his chest had lessened. Something had been released.

But then, he noticed something else.

They weren't alone.

Someone else was there.

June.

She stood behind Agema quietly, watching. She didn't say anything, and her expression was unreadable.

But Arlon wasn't embarrassed. He wasn't ashamed of what she had seen.

Instead, he walked up to her, calm and steady.

And then, without saying a word—

He hugged her, too.

Then, before it could even become awkward, Arlon fainted once again.