Under the pouring rain, Cyrus walked casually beneath the moonlight while supporting his right arm with the other.
'Is there any use for me even as a zenith? I could just stay back until my whole body decays, not as if someone out in this fucked-up world cares,' thought Cyrus.
He reached his heading—a small tavern—and rudely opened the door, briefly interrupting the couple beside him, making love with their lips.
Not giving attention to their sudden fright, Cyrus approached the fat bartender and hit a silver coin on the deck as he ordered, "I need a shot of Margarita."
Cyrus tried to hide the pain coming from his left arm. Although his face was down, the bartender noticed Cyrus slightly falling asleep while dropping the bottle of Margarita.
His skin was pale, and, stretching his neck, the bartender noticed a flaming ash falling from Cyrus' hidden right arm.
"F... Fuck," the bartender muttered, staggering and hitting himself against the cellar behind him.
The sudden noise woke Cyrus up, who immediately focused on the Margarita he ordered.
"You're a zenith?" asked the bartender. He had deliberately taken steps away from Cyrus while asking.
Cyrus, on the other hand, sighed after taking a shot of his drink. "Not really... I've barely entered that hellscape called the tower. You noticed my decaying body, didn't you?" asked Cyrus.
As the couple overheard them, they quickly abandoned the tavern.
"Kid, if you stay outside for too long without entering the tower, you'll die."
"Pfft... First of all, I'm no kid—I'm nineteen. Second of all, it doesn't really matter if I die or not. At least I won't have a body to be buried," said Cyrus, taking another shot of his Margarita.
"Some say if the zenith chooses you, it's offering a chance to change a miserable life—or at least a chance for trying."
"Honestly, if I knew this was how my life would be, I wouldn't have come out when Mama was pushing," said Cyrus.
"Where are your parents?"
"Tsk... Got no relatives who can relate with me. I just got kicked out of the orphanage since I can get a job and start feeding myself. That silver coin was all they gave me."
Cyrus sighed. Now his fingers holding the glass were gradually turning to ash. "I didn't ask to be born," Cyrus muttered.
All of a sudden, the bartender began stepping closer.
In most scenarios, if a zenith refuses to enter the tower and starts decaying, any physical contact with a human causes the human to die instantly while the zenith's time restarts.
It happened a few years ago when mysterious giant towers burst from the ground without warning.
At first, the generation of zeniths knew nothing about it, so many humans were turning into flaming decay—slowly, and finally, complete ash.
"Look, ki-... Look, my friend... I know a few big shots who got a chance from the zenith. You can't really accept what is if you keep thinking of what you've lost or what is coming."
"Sorry, man... I got nothing of what you said—never attended college or anything," said Cyrus, making the fat man smile.
"Now, I'm calling the zenith organization. There's a code red in my bar. You gotta go in the tower. Though it's 50/50, sometimes it's 60/50 when you start trying."
"Good thing one of their head quarters isn't far", said the bartender as he brought out his device.
Cyrus wordlessly glanced at the man, still not understanding the meaning of anything he said.
The fat man speed-dialed the organization's number, and, as this was the type of emergency the government had focused all their attention on, the number quickly responded.
"I'm calling from Fat Man's Popular Tavern."
"Yes, Mr. Jones. Is there something you want to share? Perhaps about a zenith?"
"Yes, exactly. There's one in my bar—a teen with red hair, pale skin, and I think he's falling asleep. He also—"
"What?! A zenith falling asleep? Mr. Jones, do not let that man sleep. Code red. I repeat—do not let that man fall asleep, or he'll turn into a monster. We are on our way."
Jones gulped after getting the information.
He stared at Cyrus, who was already in the process of falling asleep.
From government information and precautions, those caught or chosen by the zeniths would start decaying.
The first precaution was not to allow them to touch you. The second, and most important, was to prevent them from falling victim to the monster sleep trial—the urge to close your eyes and believe everything would be fine. Never let them fall victim.
"Uh, kid... Kid?"
The hair on Jones' skin quickly stood up. (Goosebumps.)
His heartbeat skipped a beat. Before allowing Cyrus to sleep in his bar, he picked up the Margarita bottle, intending to land it on Cyrus' head.
"Don't even try it, Mr. Jones. I heard the organization. Don't worry; I won't fall asleep," said Cyrus, his eyes closed as if asleep.
"I'd rather decay than turn into one of those monsters I've seen."
"Yes, but you know... Maybe opening your eyes so I can be sure you're awake."
"Tsk... I wasn't planning on sitting here waiting for some assholes. I'm out."
Cyrus stood up. By now, his right arm had almost decayed completely, with the decay spreading to his left arm and half his face.
More of a zombie with falling skin, but instead, it was falling skin turning into red ash.
"Uh... Aren't you waiting for them?" asked Jones, still holding the bottle.
"If you want, I could wait, but don't blame me if I fall asleep in your bar," said Cyrus, standing inches away from the door.
Jones wordlessly stared at the boy.
Not getting a response, Cyrus left the tavern. Struggling outside, he missed his step and fell flat, facing the pouring rain.
Not long after he fell, a black car came driving in, its headlights illuminating Cyrus.
Three men adorned in black suits stepped out, looking at the boy.
From the little nods they received from Jones and the sight of the decaying body, it was easy to identify Cyrus as the one.
"You've done a good job keeping yourself awake, but the outside world isn't for you anymore. I believe you only have three hours left to enter the tower before you decay completely," said one of the men.
Cyrus emotionlessly looked at the middle-aged man with a white beard, who was telling him some of the things he already knew.
"That much time to live?" said Cyrus.
His words left the commander and the two zeniths sharing similar surprised looks.