Morning arrived without sunlight.
Thick, gray clouds layered over Seoul like a lid, trapping the cold air beneath them. The city felt muted—like sound itself was holding its breath. Helicopters circled above the Korean Tower, their distant rotors blending into the low rumble emitted by the obsidian structure.
Inside the emergency headquarters built near the plaza, candidates from across the region were gathering.
Seo Joon sat near the end of a long conference table, a cup of untouched tea cooling in his hands. His mind drifted between reality and the memory of last night—the Summon Gate's pulse, the whisper inside his skull, and the faint sense that something had looked back at him through the darkness.
He could still feel the echo of it wedged inside his bones.
Unknown Summon… what is waking up?
The door behind him slid open.
Footsteps—too many to count—entered the room. Murmurs rose, then fell when they saw him. Many of the newly awakened candidates had heard about him already: the one who survived a simulated first trial, the one with a unique skill, the one who collapsed without explanation.
He didn't blame their stares. Fear and curiosity always walked together.
Waqar stepped into the room a moment later, bringing a sudden shift in atmosphere. The Pakistani ranker's presence filled the space like a pressure drop—silent but undeniable. Even the strongest Korean hunters straightened their backs instinctively.
He nodded toward Joon. "Ready?"
Joon exhaled once. "As much as I can be."
Waqar took a seat beside him, while officials, analysts, and high-rank hunters from Korea formed a semicircle around the table.
At the center, a giant hologram displayed data pulled directly from the tower's external readings.
Dozens of red lines.
Multiple unknown anomaly markers.
A countdown steadily ticking down: 17 hours until Entry Force Allocation.
The discussion began.
"Before anything else," a senior Korean guild captain said, "we need to confirm the identities and abilities of all awakened candidates. The tower is linking itself to each region. If we don't organize, we'll be walking into chaos."
His voice was steady, but his hands trembled when he tried to adjust his sleeve.
Fear again—holding everyone by the spine.
Candidates stepped forward one by one to introduce themselves, their abilities, and any abnormalities they experienced.
Some abilities were predictable—strength boosts, elemental control, sensory enhancement.
Others were stranger.
A woman who could read the emotions of monsters.
A man whose shadow could detach and scout ahead.
A teenager whose skin hardened into something like obsidian when threatened.
Each introduction made Joon feel heavier.
Why did I get Summon Gate?
If powers were given based on compatibility or fate, his didn't make any sense. He wasn't a warrior, a genius, or someone destined for leadership. He was an average guy who never finished university.
Yet the system had chosen him.
When his turn came, all eyes shifted toward him.
Joon stood slowly.
"Seo Joon. Age twenty-two." His voice came out quieter than he expected. "Skill: Summon Gate."
A ripple moved through the room.
Someone whispered, "That's the unique skill…"
Another muttered, "A summoner type in the first generation? That's dangerous."
Even Waqar's gaze sharpened.
Joon projected his system window into the air.
Summon Gate — LV. 1
Rarity: Unique
Description: Allows user to summon entities of unknown origin.
Limitations: Highly influenced by Luck, Tower Resonance, World Stability.
Warning: Risk level—Extreme.
The room went still.
One of the Korean guild masters leaned forward. "Unknown entities? Unknown origin? You mean… you don't control what comes out?"
"Not fully," Joon admitted. "At least not at my level."
"What did you summon so far?"
Joon hesitated. "Nothing stable. A distorted figure that couldn't materialize."
Murmurs rose again.
"Then it's useless—"
"Or it can summon something catastrophic—"
"Or maybe the tower set him as a wildcard—"
Waqar's voice sliced through the noise. "Enough."
The room quieted instantly.
Waqar turned toward the officials. "If the tower chose him, there was a reason. No tower in history—fictional or mythical—ever gives abilities by accident. Instead of questioning him, prepare him."
Several hunters nodded reluctantly.
Joon sat again, grateful for Waqar's shield, but part of him still felt exposed.
It took another thirty minutes for the rest of the candidates to introduce themselves. When the last one finished speaking, a new alert flashed on the hologram.
Tower of Fate — Korea Region
Second Pulse Detected
Estimated Trial Sequence: Accelerated
Everyone froze.
"What does that mean?" someone asked.
An analyst paled as he interpreted the data. "It means the tower is losing patience. It will drag people inside if voluntary entry doesn't happen in time."
Waqar crossed his arms. "How long?"
"Forty-eight hours… maybe less."
The tension in the room turned to dread.
Joon looked out toward the window. The tower's glow was brightening again. The runes at its base were multiplying like veins digging into the earth.
It's alive… learning… adapting.
A shiver ran through him.
Suddenly, his Summon Gate pulsed again.
The mark lit up under his sleeve—hot, bright, urgent.
Joon clenched his teeth, hiding his reaction—but Waqar noticed instantly. He stepped closer to block others' view.
"Again?" Waqar whispered.
"It's reacting to the tower," Joon muttered. "Stronger than yesterday. Like something wants to come out."
Waqar's brows tightened. "Can you hold it?"
"I'm trying."
The pulse surged harder.
Joon felt the air thicken behind him—space bending, twisting, pulling.
Not here. Not now.
He leaned forward, elbows on the table, pretending to study the hologram while fighting the internal tug-of-war.
Calm. Breathe. Don't open. Not yet.
Slowly… painfully… the glow faded.
But the cold feeling remained in his spine, like a creature scraping its claws behind a locked door.
The meeting resumed, though Joon barely heard it. His focus was on his heartbeat, on the whispers he couldn't fully catch, and on the growing pressure inside his chest.
Finally, the officials concluded with their plan.
"We will form three sub-teams for the first official entry," one said. "Each will include balanced abilities, offense, defense, and special abilities."
Eyes shifted toward Joon again.
"With Summon Gate," the official continued, "we believe Candidate Seo Joon belongs in—"
Waqar stood abruptly.
"No."
Silence.
"He belongs with me," Waqar said. "I take responsibility."
"But—"
"You can't—"
"He's too risky—"
Waqar glared at them. "Your strongest hunter has spoken. Unless you think your guild ranks matter more than surviving the tower?"
No one dared argue.
The decision was final.
Joon's team would be:
Waqar — National Ranker (Pakistan)
Seo Joon — Summon Gate User (Korea)
Hyeon-ji — A healer-type with unknown amplification buffs
Ryu Min-seok — Shockwave Combatant
Takashi Mori — Japanese sword-type awakened temporarily stationed in Seoul
A mixed, international team—unusual for a first official entry, but unavoidable given the situation.
The meeting ended.
Candidates dispersed, some excited, others terrified.
Joon stayed behind for a moment, staring at the tower through the window.
Waqar approached him slowly. "You did well."
"I didn't do anything," Joon said softly.
"You held your power in a room full of fear. That's enough for now."
Joon let the words sink into him. They didn't ease the anxiety, but they anchored him—a small, solid point inside shifting ground.
Waqar glanced at the tower. "Go rest. Tomorrow… the world will change again."
As Joon walked out of the room, another message flickered before his eyes—one the tower seemed to send only to him.
[Summon Gate Synchronization: 52% → 56%]
[Warning: Unknown Entity attempting contact.]
[Time until Mandatory Summon: 23 hours.]
He stopped mid-step.
Mandatory.
It wasn't a suggestion.
It wasn't optional.
Something will come out tomorrow.
He looked back at the tower, black against the gray sky—alive, waiting.
Joon whispered under his breath:
"I'm not ready."
But the tower didn't care.
And destiny never waited.