We grabbed breakfast from a stall across from our apartment and then headed straight for the Ranker Organization building. Up close, it was enormous, resembling a grand coliseum with towering walls of smooth, solid stone. The circular structure exuded an intimidating yet awe-inspiring presence, as if it had been built to house legends.
A massive screen wrapped around the upper section of the building, showcasing Ranker battles and announcements. The flashes of action and roaring crowds on the screen captivated everyone's attention. At the entrance, two towering replicas of the Stone Tablet stood like ancient guardians, etched with intricate patterns. The open layout of the place made it feel like a stadium, with echoes of cheers and chatter filling the air.
I couldn't stop staring at the incredible structure until Jason, already near the entrance, called out, "What are you still doing? Let's head in!"
The inside was even more impressive. It felt like a blend of a skyscraper and an office complex, with sleek, polished floors that reflected the bright overhead lights. The hum of energy filled the air, and the futuristic design made it feel like a place where anything was possible. On one side, there was a section where people could buy tickets to watch live Ranker battles. On the other side, the Ranker registration center stood, its bold sign proclaiming: You must be seventeen and above to sign up.
Jason and I headed toward the registration area. Along the way, we noticed Ranker police stationed in strategic spots, likely ready to handle any rogue Rankers.
When we reached the desk, a tired-looking lady sat behind it, exuding the kind of energy that said she'd rather be anywhere else.
Jason, unfazed, stepped forward confidently and said, "Hello, my friend and I want to register as Rankers."
She sighed, barely lifting her eyes, and asked flatly, "Are you seventeen?"
"We are," we replied together.
She gave us a long, scrutinizing look, as if scanning us for a lie. Then she said, "If you're not actually seventeen and you touch the tablet, you'll gain nothing. Your money will go straight to waste. You're sure you're ready?"
Jason and I, knowing we were more than qualified, nodded. "Yes, we're sure."
With another sigh, she handed us two tickets and said, "Here. These are for the ship. Now pay up."
Jason fished the money from his pocket and handed it to her. She pointed to a nearby entrance and said, "Okay, head through there and show them your ticket. They'll take care of the rest."
Her attitude grated on me. I muttered under my breath, "It's not like I forced her to take this job, so why act like I'm the problem?"
Jason overheard and laughed, nudging me. "Maybe she got stuck with a trash power, like summoning forks or something. Now she's stuck here, bitter about it."
I couldn't help but smile at his comment as we headed toward the entrance she'd pointed out.
As we entered the port, we were greeted by the sight of a massive ship, its sleek design making it look like something straight out of a sci-fi movie. The ship employees, dressed in sharp uniforms, stood by the boarding ramp, meticulously checking tickets.
A long line of people stretched before us, ranging from teenagers barely in their eighteenth year to older individuals in their forties. The air buzzed with a mix of excitement and nervous energy, and the low hum of the ship's engines added to the atmosphere.
As we joined the line, I glanced at Jason and asked, "Why do you think some people wait until their thirties or forties to register?"
Jason shrugged and replied, "There are a lot of reasons, but one of the common ones is that some of these people probably went to higher realms, lost a lot of time there, and were eventually sent back here with their powers stripped away."
I blinked in surprise. "Wait, people can lose their powers? I didn't even know that was possible."
"Yeah," Jason said, nodding. "Even I don't know much about it, but I've read about cases like that. When someone messes up badly in a higher realm, they're sometimes punished by having their powers taken away and getting sent back here. Then again, not everyone here is starting out. Some might just be passing through—on vacation or something. This place does attract all kinds of people.
"Huh," I murmured, my mind racing with questions. The thought of losing powers after all the effort it took to gain them made my stomach twist.
Finally, it was our turn. We handed over our tickets, and after a quick check, we were allowed to board.
As we were boarding, I glanced at Jason, who was grinning ear to ear, as if this was the start of something he'd been waiting for his whole life.
After handing over our tickets, we stepped inside. The corridors stretched endlessly, their smooth metal walls reflecting the soft glow of overhead lights. The faint murmur of distant conversations and the occasional hum of machinery filled the air. Following the directions on our tickets, we finally arrived at our room.
Jason was the first to push open the door. "Well, it's no five-star suite," he joked, flopping onto one of the bunks, "but at least we've got a view."
I glanced out the tiny window overlooking the sea, excitement bubbling inside me. We were officially on our way to Stone Tablet Island.