The Association outpost in Ashvale’s fourth district smelled like burnt coffee and old parchment, the kind of place that had seen a thousand tragedies reduced to standardized incident reports. William sat on a hard wooden bench in the waiting area, still in his mud stained clothes, watching through a frosted glass partition as Kessa and Bram gave their statements to a tired-looking clerk.
Ilsa sat beside him, hands folded tightly in her lap, saying nothing.
’They’re going to write it up as a loss. File it, close it, move on to the next case.’ William stared at his own hands, dried mud cracking across his knuckles. ’That’s how this works. That’s how it’s always worked.’
The partition door opened, and a woman in a grey Association coat stepped through, mid forties, sharp eyed, a captain’s insignia pinned to her collar. She scanned the small group with the practiced efficiency of someone who had delivered bad news more times than she could count.
"I’m Captain Yuen, regional response coordinator." She held a data slate loosely in one hand. "I’ve reviewed the incident report. A guardian class anomaly on Floor Three is... unprecedented. We’re escalating this to the research division immediately."
"What about Reyes?" Ilsa’s voice came out thin. "Are you sending a rescue team?"
Captain Yuen’s expression didn’t change, which told William everything before she spoke a word. "Floor Three registered no biological signatures matching your party leader’s profile as of eleven minutes ago. I’m sorry."
The words landed in the small waiting room like a stone dropped into still water. Ilsa’s hands tightened in her lap, knuckles going white. Bram, still visible through the partition glass, had gone completely still.
"That’s not a confirmed death," William said, before he could stop himself. Every head in the room turned toward him. "Signatures fail for a lot of reasons. Interference, environmental distortion, a dozen things. You can’t confirm he’s gone from a sensor reading."
Captain Yuen’s gaze settled on him, cool and assessing. "And you are?"
"William Belforht. Support tamer, same party."
"Mister Belforht, I understand this is difficult, but I need you to understand our position. A guardian class monster on a Floor Three rating means every projection we have about that Tower’s internal structure is currently invalid. Sending an A Rank team into unknown variables without proper assessment isn’t rescue, it’s a second incident waiting to happen."
"So you’re not sending anyone."
"I’m saying it requires authorization above my clearance, and that authorization will take time." Her voice softened slightly, though not much. "I know that’s not what you want to hear."
William stood, his legs still unsteady beneath him. "How much time?"
"Days. Possibly a week, depending on how quickly research division clears a team."
"He doesn’t have a week." William’s voice came out harder than he intended, and he saw Ilsa flinch beside him, though whether from his tone or the truth of the words, he couldn’t tell. "If he’s alive down there right now, he doesn’t have a week."
"I understand your frustration—"
"Do you?" The question came out before he could stop it, sharp enough that even the clerk behind the partition glass glanced up. William forced himself to breathe, to pull the anger back down where it belonged. It wasn’t Captain Yuen’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault except a Tower that didn’t follow its own rules and a guardian that shouldn’t have been anywhere near Floor Three. "I’m sorry. I know you’re doing your job."
Captain Yuen studied him a moment longer, something unreadable behind her eyes. "If it helps, Mister Belforht, I will personally push this up the chain as a priority case. That’s the most I can offer today."
She left with that, disappearing back through the partition, and the waiting room settled into a heavy, exhausted silence. Kessa emerged a few minutes later, her statement finished, and the three surviving party members regrouped near the outpost entrance in the fading afternoon light.
"We’re not going back down there," Kessa said, before anyone could suggest it. Her voice was steady, but her eyes were red rimmed. "You heard her. Guardian class. We got lucky once. We are not testing that luck again."
"I didn’t say we should," William said quietly.
"You were thinking it. I saw your face in there."
He didn’t answer, because she wasn’t wrong.
Bram shifted his weight, arrows still slung across his back, empty of the confidence he usually carried. "For what it’s worth, Belforht, that taming attempt back there. That was either the bravest or the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen someone do in a Tower."
"Didn’t work," William said flatly.
"No. But you tried it anyway. Against something that could’ve killed you just for trying." Bram shook his head slowly. "I don’t know what that says about you."
’It says I’m exactly as useless as everyone’s always thought.’ William kept the thought to himself. ’A Common grade Talent that can’t even bond something already dying. What good is that to anyone.’
They parted ways outside the outpost, Kessa and Bram heading toward the guild hall to file for a new party roster, Ilsa lingering a moment longer, her expression torn.
"You’re not actually thinking about going back down there alone, are you?" she asked.
William hesitated too long before answering, and that hesitation was answer enough.
"William." Ilsa’s voice dropped low, urgent. "A Common grade tamer, alone, against a guardian class monster that already nearly killed a C Rank hunter with an Iron Body Talent. You wouldn’t last thirty seconds."
"I know."
"Then why are you even considering it?"
He looked back toward the Tower, its black surface catching the last orange light of the setting sun, indifferent to everything happening at its base. Seven years of being told his Talent was worthless. Seven years of being the fifth wheel, the early warning system, the body that filled out a roster because somebody had to carry the least glamorous role.
And in the one moment that had actually mattered, the one moment where trying something reckless might have made a difference, his Talent had failed anyway. Reyes had paid for that failure with his life, or worse, was still paying for it somewhere below, waiting for a rescue that might not come in time.
"Because," William said slowly, "if I don’t go back, and he’s still alive down there, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for standing here doing nothing."
Ilsa was quiet for a long moment. Then, softer, "That’s not bravery, William. That’s guilt talking."
"Maybe." He met her eyes. "Doesn’t make it less true."
She didn’t try to stop him again after that, though the worry never left her face. She pressed a small pouch of emergency mana potions into his hands before she left, wordlessly, and William watched her walk away into the city’s evening crowds until she disappeared from sight.
He stood alone at the base of the Tower as full dark settled over Ashvale, the entrance glowing faintly with the same patient, ancient light it always had, utterly unconcerned with the lives it had already taken or the ones it was about to.
’Common grade Taming Talent. No offensive skills. No real combat ability.’ William flexed his hands, still trembling slightly from the earlier backlash, and made himself walk forward anyway. ’Just a fool with nothing left to lose going back in for a man who probably doesn’t even remember my name half the time.’
The Tower’s entrance swallowed him a moment later, indifferent as ever, and the descent toward Floor Three began.