After the incident with the root, Lily refused to let Vincent out of her sight for even a second. She kept him within arm’s reach while carrying out her duties, never stopping to monitor his mental state. Though his face showed little expression, the brush with death had left him paranoid about touching anything. By the logic of that world, magic itself seemed eager to seize control of his body.

  Lily had mentioned that the tower was especially dense in magical concentration, so she warned him not to touch anything unfamiliar, only what she gave him directly.

  “Take this… and this one too. They’re not too heavy, right?”

  She handed him a pair of ancient tomes. His coordination had improved somewhat, though he was still clumsy. Lily was clearly not a mere laborer like him. Vincent had seen other “husks,” identifiable by their brown rags, hauling books from one side of the hall to the other, but none of them seemed as hopelessly stupid as he did.

  Lily’s robe was of far better quality, adorned with intricate patterns and golden embroidery. The emphasis on aesthetics seemed to go beyond vanity or status. There was something functional behind it, he was sure of it.

  “Sorry for making you carry these, but if they see you idle, they’ll assign you more work. And I can’t afford to lose sight of you.”

  From what Vincent had observed, Lily was in charge of coordinating teams of resurrected workers and gathering adjacent information. It was common for the resurrected to have gaps in their memories, so the fragments of knowledge they retained were scattered and incomplete. Several groups were tasked with organizing and interpreting what could be salvaged from thousands of worlds within that seemingly endless tower.

  And just like a curious cat, he eventually found himself flipping through a few of the tomes…

  None of this makes sense… it looks like English, but much older.

  One of the books had a bronze pin as a bookmark, with a small note attached. “...1680,” he managed to read. Fortunately, the numbering system was the same, so he could infer that the fragment came from that date and from Earth, according to the Christian calendar.

  “That one’s a compiled tome, categorized by world, universe, date, and language,” Lily explained when she caught him snooping through the books.

  “U-uni?”

  Of all the classifications, the word universe was the one that struck him the most.

  “Of course. There are multiple versions of different worlds. It just so happens that you and I come from Earth, and from the same universe, so the history we know is the same.”

  Multiple universes? Then the multiverse theory is real…

  But Lily quickly interrupted his train of thought, noticing the look of astonishment on his face.

  “Don’t think they differ that much. In Earth’s case, if history changes too drastically, the tower becomes unable to bring people from that world.”

  Unable? That suggests there’s no life left… a pandemic, maybe? Or the atmosphere burned up…

  “For us, it’s actually an advantage that language changes so little… but the tower isn’t very interested in Earth’s history. In magical worlds, history helps us understand the culture and lifestyle of other beings… something vital for understanding magic, but useless for Earth. For other worlds, different universes represent completely distinct paradigms, but in our case, the most you can get are different military strategies… nothing particularly useful.”

  Lily grew animated as she spoke about books; it was clear the topic fascinated her. Vincent found it intriguing as well… after all, knowledge was power.

  But the growl of his stomach interrupted the conversation.

  *Grrrrr*

  “Oh, right, you haven’t eaten! Silly me! How could I not notice? Come on, follow me to the kitchen. I’ll try to get you something to eat.”

  They left the books on a nearby table and headed toward the kitchen, located about five floors below. The descent was made through a massive lift carved from stone. From its size, Vincent estimated it weighed several tons, yet it slid smoothly along golden rails, almost as if it were floating.

  Why does this elevator use rails, but the ones in the tower’s core just float? What’s the logic behind it? I’d like to ask…

  He stood dazed, staring at the mechanism, tracing the engravings of the magic circle at his feet with his eyes, trying to decipher them. When they reached the proper floor, Lily had to grab his arm to pull him away from his obsessive observation.

  No matter where he looked, he was always amazed by the practicality of magic. His wonder was such that, for a moment, he forgot he had died a horrible death just a few hours earlier.

  “Come on, the kitchen on this floor is over here. It’s the door with the pot symbol.”

  She still treats me like an idiot… but honestly, I can’t blame her.

  The kitchen was an annex to a large dining hall, which they ignored entirely as they went straight into the preparation area. There, a stout woman was scolding several assistants. The moment she saw Lily, her expression changed completely, she clearly was a frequent visitor.

  “Oh, you again! They already told you not to feed him more than necessary. There’s no point wasting resources on a husk.”

  “But it’s important that he eats! Today more than ever.”

  Lily approached the cook and whispered something in her ear.

  “I think he has reawakened... he even said a few words.”

  The cook looked at Vincent, skeptical.

  “He spoke? He’s still got the same dumb face as always.”

  “Well, yes… but he thanked me. And he opened a window!”

  “Wow, another marvelous addition to the tower’s scholars! Please, go right ahead…”

  The woman replied with heavy sarcasm, her words accompanied by an exaggerated gesture. Vincent wondered how long Lily had been keeping up this routine. He was thin, but not as starved as he could have been.

  “Thank you so much, Maggie!”

  Lily replied cheerfully.

  “T-Thankk y-y-ou.”

  Vincent mimicked her.

  “He really does speak! I can’t believe it… Go on, give him a piece of dried meat. If we rewarded him when he learned not to stick his hand in the stove, how could we not do it now?”

  The bar for my intelligence never ceases to amaze me.

  Once inside the storage room, Lily rummaged through the shelves. Part of the chamber seemed to be refrigerated by the very stone that composed it. Circles and other symbols formed geometric patterns, drawing energy from spherical crystals embedded in the walls, keeping the food cold.

  Are these stones simply cooling the room, or are they transferring heat somewhere else? I can see metal dissipators carved into the walls… clearly, this uses physical principles to make it work.

  Vincent sat at a nearby table, studying the engravings closely, trying to discern the logic behind them.

  “Here, take this, some food and utensils. Eat as much as you can. I’ll deal with the consequences.”

  Dried meat, a piece of cheese, half a loaf of bread, and what looked like speckled grapes rested in the basket Lily had gathered.

  She’s getting herself in trouble for me… why is she doing all this?

  Vincent felt a pang of guilt for relying on her so much. He still didn’t understand their connection, but he couldn’t afford to be modest either. Lily unloaded the contents of the basket onto a plate, and as he reached for the utensils, their hands brushed.

  She was planning to feed me herself…? How humiliating. I can’t believe a girl this young has to take care of me like this.

  “Oh… can you do it on your own?”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Lily looked at him in surprise as he properly held the utensils. Her mouth fell open when he managed to stab a grape with his fork.

  “Whoah… you really did it… it’s like you’re a different person…”

  Her eyes welled up, but she tried to hide it... maybe so he wouldn’t feel guilty. She didn’t say it aloud, but part of her was mourning.

  This body belongs to me… I’m me… and yet, I can’t help but feel guilty. No matter how dull or incomplete my previous self was, he clearly meant a lot to her.

  Lily took his hand as a tear rolled down her cheek.

  “It doesn’t matter… you’ll still be Vin to me.”

  She smiled softly, as if saying goodbye to someone she loved.

  She keeps calling me Vin… but if he didn’t have any memories, how does she even know my name?

  “V–Vin?”

  He pointed at himself questioningly.

  “Yes, that’s right. You’re Vin.”

  Vincent shook his head, and Lily’s face twisted into a look of heartbreak, as if he had just denied the existence of his former self. But before she could take it as an insult, he quickly corrected himself.

  “Vin–cent–”

  That left her stunned.

  “Huh? Vincent? Your original name is Vincent?”

  He nodded, and Lily’s face instantly lit up.

  “Ah! Vincent! Of course!”

  Lily looked delighted, though he couldn’t understand why. He tilted his head questioningly, a gesture she caught immediately.

  “‘Vin’ is a nickname the other Earth-borns from the dorm gave you… like daVINci, the genius inventor. You used to react to it, so the name stuck.”

  Oh, I see. It was an insult.

  When he lowered his gaze, Lily realized he had caught the mocking undertone behind the nickname.

  “B-but that’s good news… I think. It means some part of you was always here…”

  She looks relieved… she really believes her friend isn’t completely gone. I don’t have the heart to tell her I remember nothing at all… Good thing I can’t speak.

  Now more at ease, Lily watched him eat, something that made him a bit uncomfortable. During the whole meal, she didn’t stop talking for a second, recounting old stories and hoping he’d react to one of them. He had no choice but to nod every now and then, giving vague confirmations as if he remembered something. That small lie seemed like a fair price for everything Lily had done for him.

  “Listen… I don’t want to ruin your meal, but you should keep a low profile. For awakened husks, there’s a reintroduction process. You might even get some benefits depending on what you can recall.”

  Lily explained, trying not to make it sound too serious. It was clearly something she had wanted to mention before but never found the right time.

  “Your condition is delicate. That complicates things. Honestly, I don’t know how they’ll react to your situation, but I fear their response might be… harsh. It’s better if we keep your awakening secret for now.”

  Exactly what I was planning. In this tower obsessed with knowledge, who knows what they’d do to a helpless husk who can’t even talk.

  Vincent nodded, and Lily smiled, relieved that he seemed calm. She didn’t want to worry him too much, so she kept chatting, telling more of her silly anecdotes. Despite their tone, those stories gave him valuable context about the world and the tower’s inner workings, how the husks were treated, how the hierarchy was structured.

  Her chatter distracted him from the food, and before he could finish eating, a commotion shook the kitchen.

  “Where is he?! I know you took him somewhere!”

  “Oh no… he’s here. Quick, hide! I’ll try to stall him.”

  From the other side of the door, the Custodian’s voice boomed, yelling at the cook. It was Drestan—the same man from a few hours ago. Lily darted out to calm him down, but Vincent doubted she could hold him back.

  If that man catches me eating, he’ll probably make me throw it up…

  In the few seconds before Drestan burst through the door, Vincent came up with an emergency plan. He dumped all the food back into the basket and grabbed a nearby broom.

  “That’s what I expected! I knew you were feed–!”

  The man stormed through the door, ready to find Vincent’s dumb face stuffed with food he didn’t deserve. But instead, he found him standing with a broom in hand.

  “What–?”

  Lily instantly caught on to what Vincent had done and played along.

  “S-see? You didn’t let me explain! I brought him here to clean the storeroom, nothing else!”

  Her face turned red with embarrassment and anger. Drestan was out of breath; he must have run there.

  “And why are you wasting time explaining that? You have far more important duties. The team working on the viral magic project is still waiting for the Enturian scrolls to be translated.”

  “I’m sorry, I just wanted to make sure he didn’t make any mistakes. Let me take him back to his quarters, and I’ll return to work.”

  “No! They’re waiting for you! You go do your job and leave this husk to clean on his own.”

  Lily resisted as much as she could, throwing out excuses, but it was obvious Drestan was speaking from a position of authority. Before she left, Vincent caught the worry in her eyes… not realizing that her concern only fueled Drestan’s anger even more.

  The Custodian shut the door behind her and turned back, only to storm inside again moments later and grab Vincent by the collar.

  “You think I’d leave you alone with that food? What if you shit yourself here? I can’t trust work like this to a fledgling like you. You’re coming with me, you’ll do some real work to make up for the mess you caused this morning.”

  Drestan dragged him out of the kitchen toward one of the elevators. Vincent stumbled several times, but the man forced him to his feet each time. Every impact shook his fragile being. The rough treatment seemed to weaken his very consciousness. After the third fall, Drestan crouched beside him and muttered:

  “We’re short on staff in the Fourth Womb. It’s filthy, heavy work… that’s why I’m giving it to you.”

  Not everyone was as kind as Lily.

  From where they stood, the massive stone elevator climbed nearly fifty floors, stopping intermittently to collect more workers. Vincent began to notice a pattern among those chosen to accompany him. None of them seemed particularly bright.

  The roots seem to thicken the higher we go… even more than the ones sprouting from the heart.

  When they reached the designated floor, they were met with a large antechamber and an arched door. Access appeared restricted to most, requiring a sequence of hand gestures to open. Once the door slid aside, Vincent finally understood why the roots grew thicker as they ascended. A pulsating womb pumped blood throughout the tower. The roots, large enough to transport an adult, ran through the walls in a chaotic web of arteries.

  The space was divided by a glass antechamber that served as a decontamination and preparation room. Inside, another Custodian ordered them to suit up. The equipment consisted of a light leather jumpsuit, waterproof boots, and a mop with long bristles.

  “Walk carefully… the floor is slippery.”

  The crystal chamber opened. They descended a few short steps before reaching the ground level. The air was oppressively humid, and the floor was soaked in amniotic fluid. Once inside, they moved slowly toward a nearby platform where a massive root pierced through the floor. It was tied down to slow its flow, while a couple of men examined the fetuses circulating within it.

  “Here they are. What did you need them for?”

  Drestan asked one of the operators. The man was covered in a crude sterilized suit and wore an oxygen mask. Vincent hadn’t noticed before, since Drestan had been standing ahead of him, but his superior wore a similar mask.

  Is the air toxic? Bastards…

  “Push the bodies into the drain and collect all the blue fetuses you can in that bucket.”

  The casual tone of his instructions unsettled Vincent.

  Bodies? Fetuses?

  He looked down and realized that the viscous liquid beneath his feet contained the same embryonic spheres he had seen traveling through the tower’s veins. Farther away, partially submerged in the murky fluid, he could make out several bodies floating near another platform.

  “A-ah!”

  Vincent screamed, but no one paid much attention. They didn’t say it out loud, but he wasn’t the only one unsettled by the sight, and that offered a small, bitter comfort. It was reassuring to know that even here, such grotesque scenes weren’t entirely normal.

  “Over here! Unclog that drain!”

  One of the workers called from a distant platform. As they moved closer to the womb, Vincent began to understand its horrifying function. Veins sewn into the surface of the womb were connected to the platforms; there, they were tied off and clotted to stop the flow, allowing the fetuses inside to grow. He could see the process up close—multiple “births” were happening simultaneously, though most of them ended in failure.

  “What happened here?”

  Drestan asked, pointing at the remains.

  “It seems the last batch of fetuses belonged to a race that uses acid instead of blood. We tried to abort them before they grew too large, but one was cut by mistake and ruptured a vein.”

  The operator described the scene, one that had left four men dissolved into nothingness, as if it were routine, like mentioning a broken ice machine. Vincent thought he could handle gore, but when ordered to unclog the intestinal mess in the drain, he couldn’t stop himself from gagging. Even avoiding eye contact, he could tell the bodies floating nearby wore the same uniform as his.

  Watching the liquid flow put things into perspective. The sheer volume and scale of the drains revealed the magnitude of the operation.

  How many babies are born here every hour? They haven’t stopped working, not even with people dead on the floor. And Drestan said this is the Fourth Womb… how many more are there?

  “Hey, you lot! Clean this up too!”

  Another platform needed attention. This time, it seemed to be a “birth,” if it could even be called that. A small incision had been made in one of the bulbous, swollen veins, and a woman reached inside with her bare hand, fishing out embryos. The motion spilled amniotic fluid across the floor, which Vincent was tasked to clean.

  Dear God…

  Another worker examined the vein’s contents, scanning through the fetuses while dictating to the woman which ones to take.

  “Yes, that one... let me see. Looks like it’s from the planet Vermus. Their early magic and technological level are about five hundred years behind. We’ve already brought a few, and they’ve given us nothing. Discard it.”

  Coldly, as if handling a fish, the woman tore the umbilical cord that had clung to one of the basal walls. Then, she tossed the fetus aside like it was nothing.

  “N-no!”

  He couldn’t help but react on instinct. That fetus was the size of a premature baby. Dropping to his knees, Vincent reached into the reddish, viscous liquid to check its state. He held it in his hands, trembling, but the impact against the stone floor had already killed it.

  “No…”

  The others stared at him strangely, whether out of discomfort or fear of being reprimanded, none dared approach. They watched from the corners of their eyes as he knelt there, sobbing.

  “That one’s already got a failed settlement. Remove it too.”

  The operator signaled the midwife. Another embryo splattered beside him, and the liquid sprayed across his face. Horror seized him. He dropped the tiny body and scrambled backward, unable to wipe away the thick, red slime clinging to his skin.

  His face didn’t dissolve like the others’, but that didn’t make it any less horrifying. Rolling in the viscous fluid, he glanced to the side to see where he had fallen. At this level, the liquid was clearer—translucent enough to show what it contained.

  “Ahhh! Waaaaahhh!!”

  He screamed when he realized what he had been standing in. Tiny limbs, violet fetuses, and malformed bodies drifted in the current around him. Everything he had eaten came back up in a violent retch.

  “Ugh, what’s wrong with him? Get him out of here!”

  The trauma was so great that two workers had to escort him out. They dragged him across the slick floor and back into the glass antechamber. As he was pulled away from the womb, his vision darkened again, not from anything physical this time, but from his own mind rejecting what it had just witnessed. His consciousness itself was pushing back, refusing to accept this world.

  This time, Vincent didn’t resist. He wanted to forget. If he could just slip back into the void for a moment, he could erase the horror of this place.

  He didn’t come to until they threw him onto the cold stone floor. The pain yanked him back to reality. Expelled from the womb, covered in blood and screaming, it felt as though he had been born again.

  All babies are brought into the world this way... forced into life in a cruel reality. But at least they’re fortunate enough not to remember it.