Today was the last day of the cycle, marked by a mournful bell sounding from the very top of the inner tower.
Sacril awoke; his muscles ached from days of constant training.
He had certainly done all he could do to prepare, even going as far as taking back up the survival class to get even more information on the first layer.
He lacked time; in about an hour, they would all be transported. It was very important for him to make his way to the assembly hall, where they would all receive their last rites and any final bit of advice for what was to come.
When he arrived, he was among the last to do so, as they streamed into the auditorium and formed a group. His attention was drawn to the podium.
There was a person who was entirely covered by white fabric, and a gold sigil was clasped between their hands, which were together in a prayer position.
Murmurs in the crowd confirmed his suspicion.
"A high inquisitor?"
"Huh, maybe they care about us more than you thought, huh?"
"Probably just here to check on 'top performer' over there."
Sacril stiffened at the statement, and his gaze shot over to where the student was looking.
Unel stood there, expressionless and motionless. He thought about going over to say hi; they had not seen each other at the academy even once so far after all.
But just as he was about to do so, a strange sound echoed from the podium.
It sounded like a sob that had barely escaped being held in, and it was soon followed.
More crying, nearly to the point of seeming deranged, the cloaked figure seemed absolutely distraught.
It went on for an uncomfortable amount of time; every student had now stopped what they had been doing and were staring with puzzled expressions up at the high inquisitor.
Sacril had only heard about them in passing; he had honestly thought them to be a rumor. He saw no reason for priest-like figures in the inquisition hierarchy, as he thought of it more as a military organization than a church.
Obviously, he didn't know what to think about this sight; he supposed it was some kind of act, as he had never seen the "church" perform any acts of charity to those truly in need.
The figures' sobs faded gradually into small sniffles before finally a word came out of their mouth.
"A-ah, im sorry, so sorry..."
The crowd was motionless and just kept on staring.
"I wasted time... so much time, I could have told you so much... why did I..?"
The voice was monotone and somewhat high-pitched, but did not convey a particular gender.
They clutched at their head madly and shook violently before going back to stillness.
"Ah-yes! more important! Last rites!"
They held a hand up, and a golden shimmer seemed to put a crack into the air itself from which a piece of parchment paper materialized.
"All I can give you now... is your last rites as a human, before you are sent to this new world, these are your greatest powers and should not be squandered thoughtlessly."
There was a moment of awkward silence yet again, this time seeming more confused than judgmental, before the figure looked back to the parchment.
"Ahem- The following is declared under the sanctuary of the cities of New Babel, and is an official pact which can assist all humans who choose to accept it."
"Your rights as a human are protection from outside forces, the ability to bargain, possession of valuables, speech, silence, and free will."
The next words troubled him extremely.
"Do you accept this?"
'Wait, what am I accepting? I thought I already had all those things? I didn't know this was some kind of deal. What happens if I don't accept?'
His answer came soon after. People next to him started looking into the air in front of them, as if something had appeared there.
It was the systems.
He had heard of it in passing, although he only associated with one other awakened, Eira. He had overheard conversations about other awakened which involved their own systems and how they all had their own issues with how it worked.
It seemed some kind of prompt had now appeared, and many people were now scrambling to find answers as to what it meant.
With him not having any of this, he just looked back up to the stage.
The figure was walking away, seemingly indifferent to the crowd that they had cried over previously.
He scowled, and the sound of a second bell hit his ears.
And then he was falling.