The space around us warped.
It was an odd, stretching sensation, like being yanked through a too-narrow tunnel at breakneck speed. And then—
Three seconds later.
We landed—hard—on the tenth floor.
Unfortunately, I hadn't exactly accounted for precision in our landing.
"A-Arthur," Rose stamred, her voice dangerously close to a squeak.
That was when I realized the situation.
I was on top of her.
Cecilia, on the other hand, was on top of .
In short, it was a pile of limbs, tangled clothing, and very, very compromised personal space.
"Ah," I muttered, registering the exact way my hands had ended up, one pressed against Rose's waist, the other trapped under Cecilia's thigh.
Rose's t-shirt rode up slightly, revealing a small rose tattoo on her stomach.
'That is oddly cute and quite fitting,' I thought.
Both of them were red-faced, wide-eyed, and glaring at like they were debating whether murder was a reasonable response.
"Sorry," I said, attempting to untangle myself—which, in hindsight, was probably the wrong move.
Because the mont I shifted, Rose inhaled sharply.
"Don't. Move."
Her voice was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet reserved for either calm ditation or imminent homicide.
Which, given the circumstances, could go either way.
"I have to," I countered, pushing forward to reach the white panel I'd spotted near us.
This, unfortunately, led to further squirming, which only made everything worse.
Cecilia groaned, half in exasperation, half in sothing dangerously close to embarrassnt.
"Arthur, I swear, if you don't—"
There was a click as I finally pushed against the panel.
The door opened, and a blinding flash of light engulfed the room.
The mont the brightness faded, the space around us… expanded.
"What the hell?" Cecilia muttered, pushing off and dusting herself off.
"A spatially manipulated room," I said, exhaling as I finally stood up properly.
Cecilia shot a glare. "Yeah? Well, that explains absolutely nothing."
Ignoring her, I rubbed my thumb against the ring on my finger, summoning my laptop in a flicker of light.
Rose, now back on her feet, tilted her head. "What are you doing?"
I crouched beside the panel, extracting a thin wire from my smartwatch before connecting it to the device embedded in the wall.
A low hum vibrated through the space as mana circuits lit up, pulsing in sync with the data now flowing into my laptop.
"Hacking," I said simply, my fingers already flying over the keyboard.
Cecilia crossed her arms. "Hacking?"
Rose's brows furrowed. "This is the Tower of Magic, you know? The most secure building in the Empire?"
I didn't look up. My brain was already running calculations, processing the incoming flood of data at a speed that would have been impossible for most.
The Tower of Magic was the most secure place in the Empire.
But even here—especially here—there were flaws.
The world I had been reborn into was far more advanced than my previous one. Mana circuits, AI constructs, quantum encryption powered by elental cores… it was beautiful, really.
It had taken ti to adjust, to understand the nuances of a world that still operated on 0s and 1s, even when rged with magic.
But in the end…
That was the key flaw.
In the world of 0s and 1s, mana had to obey the rules. It was forced into a rigid system, where every command was structured, every action bound to pre-determined sequences. That was its weakness.
I smirked.
"Arthur," Rose said cautiously, peering over my shoulder. "You're grinning."
"That," Cecilia added, eyeing warily, "is never a good sign."
I ignored them both, my fingers dancing across the keyboard, weaving through layers of mana-encoded firewalls with a precision that would have made even the best spellcasters envious.
In a world where technology and magic hadn't fully rged, the systems remained… vulnerable.
And to ?
To , this was nothing more than a puzzle.
One I was about to solve.
I watched the incoming data stream in real-ti.
Buried within the Tower's encrypted depths, I could see exactly what I had expected—the infrastructure of the spatial lock, its anchor points, the distortions in mana flow…
This was it.
The Order of the Fallen Fla's manipulation.
I smirked again.
This was my domain.
In the world of 0s and 1s…
I was the sole king.
Rose leaned closer, watching as lines of data scrolled across my laptop screen, her crimson eyes flicking between the numbers and my expression.
"What are you seeing?" she asked, her voice edged with curiosity.
I didn't answer imdiately. My fingers danced over the keyboard, the code flowing seamlessly into place.
Then, with a final keystroke, I hit Enter.
A holographic 3D map flared to life in front of us, the projection spanning the entire width of the room. The Tower of Magic, in its full two-hundred-story glory, materialized in midair—a perfect, glowing replica.
Rose blinked. "Okay. That's… insane."
Cecilia, who had been watching in quiet skepticism, crossed her arms. "How is this even possible?"
I smirked, leaning back slightly as I admired my handiwork. "Oh, I just manipulated the artifacts."
Cecilia narrowed her eyes. "That sentence should not be said so casually."
Rose gave her a look. "I an, at this point? It's Arthur. Of course he did sothing impossible."
I ignored them both, gesturing toward the floating map, which now displayed a constantly shifting web of movent—every individual inside the Tower marked with detailed mana signatures, their physical positions, and even their relative power levels.
"Basically," I explained, "the Tower is filled with mana-imbued artifacts—security wards, communication relays, defensive constructs, you na it. They're all connected to the sa primary network, designed to monitor and regulate magic flow throughout the building."
I tapped a key, zooming in on the tenth floor, where a series of red dots marked hostile presences.
"So, I just… redirected that system. Instead of monitoring for intruders, it's now tracking everyone—friend, foe, and everything in between."
Cecilia's gaze flickered to the map, her eyes scanning the shifting markers. "You an to tell you hacked into an Imperial-grade security system—a system designed by so of the most powerful enchanters and spell engineers in the world—and used it to generate a real-ti battle map?"
"Pretty much," I said.
Rose exhaled, rubbing her temple. "That is ridiculous."
"How… what?" Cecilia added, her voice an octave higher than usual.
"Not important," I dismissed with a wave of my hand, already scanning the battlefield.
The map was alive, pulsing with arcane currents as battles raged across the Tower.
I could see Archmage Charlotte clashing against Evelyn Alaric, their battle warping the very air with sheer Radiant-rank power. I saw squads of Imperial spellcasters holding the defensive floors, while Order of the Fallen Fla cultists pressed forward in a carefully coordinated siege formation.
It was chaos.
But chaos, when mapped, beca predictable.
And predictable things?
Could be manipulated.
I narrowed my eyes, following the enemy movents—seeing the weak spots, the pressure points, the flaws in their strategy.
"I get the idea," I muttered, analyzing every detail.
Rose glanced at . "What idea?"
Cecilia crossed her arms. "Arthur. What are you planning?"
I grinned, tapping my laptop screen once more, highlighting several key locations on the Tower's holographic projection.
"How to win."
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