The lift ascended with a mechanical precision that felt almost predatory, its hum a low, threatening vibration that penetrated bone and consciousness. Each meter of vertical ascent was a negotiation with gravity, with unknown forces that lurked just beyond perception.
Leonardo pressed his face against the glass—not in wonder, but in a primal attempt to comprehend the shrinking world below. The descending landscape wasn't a view; it was a memory being systematically dismantled, reduced to fragments of what once felt certain. His breath fogged the glass, a momentary ghost of human vulnerability against the unyielding surface.
"That's... something," he muttered, the word "amazing" dying before it could fully form. His voice carried the tremor of someone witnessing a reality fundamentally different from everything known.
Anna's gaze swept the glass with a predator's calculation. "Materials from other realms," she said, each word weighted with an unspoken history of survival and adaptation. Her eyes didn't just observe—they dissected, searching for weakness, for potential.
Elara's discomfort was more than physical. Her weight-shifting revealed a deeper restlessness, a survival instinct that recognized something fundamentally wrong with being suspended between worlds, with no anchor, no guaranteed return.
The lift continued its relentless ascent, indifferent to human anxieties. Its mechanical steadiness was a promise and a threat: movement without emotion, progress without compassion.
When Hector called for a volunteer, the silence wasn't hesitation—it was calculation. Each passenger evaluated their own survival potential, their own capacity to test the unknown.
Watanabe Tadashi stepped forward—not as a volunteer, but as a mechanism of challenge. His Muscle Amplification wasn't a skill; it was a survival adaptation, a biological weapon honed through countless unseen struggles. The strike against the glass wasn't just a test—it was a ritual of understanding, of probing the boundaries between known and unknown.
The glass absorbed his strike like a living membrane, vibrating with an intelligence that suggested something beyond mere material. Not unbreakable—but choosing not to break.
Watanabe's despair wasn't defeat. It was recognition. The realization that strength has limits, that some barriers exist not to be broken, but to be understood.
Leonardo approached him—not out of simple curiosity, but with the instinct of someone sensing a deeper narrative. Their interaction was a dance of potential connections, of survival strategies trying to understand each other.
As the lift continued its ascent, the remaining passengers weren't just travelers. They were survivors, edge-dwellers, individuals who understood that movement itself was a form of resistance against stasis.
Anna's final smile wasn't triumph. It was recognition. The smile of someone who knows the game is always larger than its current players, who sees the board beyond the immediate move.
"That guy is amazing," Leonardo marveled. From his poised stance to the sudden strike, everything appeared extraordinary.
To everyone's astonishment, the glass remained intact, exhibiting only a slight shiver. The collective gasp from the onlookers was almost palpable.
"As expected," Anna remarked, observing how the glass remained unaffected. Her voice carried a note of satisfaction, as if the glass's resilience vindicated her faith in the materials from the Second Realm.
Most people were shocked at how that seemingly incredible strike did not even manage to dent the glass.
"Ah, you see," Hector said as his smile grew with each word, "this is almost indestructible," he said while hitting it a few times with his knuckles. Most people let out a collective breath, feeling reassured and no longer anxious about it suddenly breaking or falling.
"It's better to see it in action than just believe someone saying it," the woman from earlier said as she got close to the Polsium glass. Most people who were watching the glass moved away as she approached, her curiosity making her bold. "She's weird," someone murmured. "Really weird," another voice agreed.
The large man who struck the Polsium glass looked at his fist, almost in despair.
"It appears I'm not worthy to be a guide," he said, catching Leonardo's ear. Leonardo walked over to him, his curiosity piqued by the man's lament.
"Hi," he said to the man, his voice hesitant yet friendly.
"Greetings, I'm Watanabe Tadashi (渡辺 忠)," he said, then made a gesture signifying greetings.
His demeanor was formal, almost ritualistic, contrasting with the casual environment.
"What? Oh, I'm Leonardo," Leonardo responded, looking at the translation on the screen.
"You're really strong," he told Watanabe. "Can I call you Wata?" Leonardo added, finding the name already a mouthful.
"Oh—" Watanabe paused for a moment, then accepted, "Wata is alright if it is your preference."
He stopped talking and continued looking at the glass, his expression contemplative. "It's really strong," he said flatly, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration.
"Yeah, I guess so," Leonardo replied, feeling the conversation becoming awkward. They stayed like that, Leonardo getting slightly embarrassed until he was called by Anna.
"Leonardo!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the tension.
"Coming! Bye, Wata!" he called out as he went over to Anna, his steps quickening with relief.
"Yes, bye, Leonardo," Wata replied without turning around, his attention still on the glass.
"That guy seems sad," Leonardo said as he reached them, concern evident in his voice.
"He's a guide," Anna said to him, then scoured the lift, her eyes searching the remaining passengers.
"If he's here, then another one of the family's heirs should be here," she continued, her voice tinged with anticipation.
"It looks like it really is today. I was having second thoughts," Elara chimed in, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
"Yeah, it appears so," Anna said, her gaze intense. Leonardo looked at where Wata stood as the man turned and headed in the opposite direction, his figure slowly diminishing in the distance.
As the lift reached another floor and most passengers disembarked, Hector noticed that there were still a few left, including Anna, Elara, Leonardo, and several more, scattered around.
The remaining passengers seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for something significant.
"Aren't you going down?" he inquired, walking towards them, confusion evident in his eyes.
"No," Anna replied flatly, her tone leaving no room for doubt.
"We are going to the very top," Elara added, her voice firm and resolute.
"The very—" Hector began, then paused.
"You're one of the families, aren't you?" he asked, his eyes widening as he turned around to see the remaining folks, most of whom were from the families.
He gulped at the number of high-ranking people present, the realization dawning on him.
"Yes," Anna answered, a smile creeping onto her face, her eyes glinting with ways of dominating everyone in the lift.