"...9! Number 339 to Window 4, please!"
I jolted at the loud voice. I had been trying to distract myself from the hunger gnawing in my stomach by getting lost in thought. I had completely forgotten that I was at the bank, waiting in line to apply for the Turkish Republic Aura Organization Support Loan. Between the uncomfortable, rigid seats and the air conditioning blowing directly on the back of my neck, my mind had wandered far.
I quickly stood up and made my way to Window 4.
"Holograph, please" the clerk said in an icy tone. She seemed a bit annoyed—understandably so, since she had been calling my number for half an hour and I'd been sitting only about five steps away, completely oblivious.
I handed over my holograph. She glanced at it, then looked up at me over the rim of her glasses without lifting her head.
"Mr. Arif, I'm afraid your application for the T.R.A.O. Support Loan has not been approved. The system found you ineligible... I don't recommend applying again."
"But ma'am" I interjected, "my situation is really bad—this loan could change my life!"
The clerk pushed her glasses up onto her head and rubbed her temples as if my words had given her a sudden migraine. Then, with a not-so-genuine smile, she said:
"I understand, Mr. Arif, but there's nothing I can do. You have no regular income, and on top of that, your Aura Field is Class F, sir. The state does offer other social assistance programs, or there are options for citizens like you who were affected by the Great Quake. I suggest looking into those instead."
At her response, I sighed. "I understand. Still, thank you for your help" I said, and turned toward the exit.
As I stepped outside, a scorching heat hit me. Antakya hasn't been this hot in a long time—even during summers. Thankfully, the massive advertisement billboards the government had placed on nearly every corner cast just enough shadow to help shield me from the sun blazing down on my skin.
"Climb the Tower, become a Hero! The Tower of Babel is waiting for you!" Nearly every billboard had a similar message.
Since the T.R.A.O. emerged over twenty years ago, the state had focused all its support on training certain individuals called "Ascenders" those who climbed the Tower of Babel. In theory, anyone could become an Ascender —we all had an Aura Field after all— but people like me, Class F citizens, were only accepted into jobs that served those who climbed the Tower.
I started walking home, sticking to the shadows cast by the billboards that were tall enough to rival the Tower itself. The stones constantly entering through the hole in my shoe were at least annoying enough to distract me from my hunger.
"What was the world like before the Great Quake?" I murmured to myself. "Before the Babel Towers, Aura Fields, Ascended, and the T.R.A.O., was it much more livable?" These thoughts kept spinning in my head.
I hadn't even realized I'd arrived at my container home until I was standing right in front of it. I scanned my holograph at the door and it opened. These holographs were actually useful devices. Designed specifically to match one's aura, they served as ID cards, public transport cards, bank cards, and even container keys. Having everything in one place at least kept keys and loose coins from constantly falling out of the ripped pocket of my shalwar.
When I stepped inside, I was greeted by a small but tidy space—not that I had many belongings. Escaping the heat of the sun and finally entering my container, I let out a breath: "Home sweet home." I sat down at the head of my bed.
The last money I had was 3,460 lira and 25 kuruş. How was I supposed to make it to the end of the month with that? I tried to get by with small jobs at döner shops, bakeries, here and there, but in this economy, it still wasn't enough to get by.
"Is my only option... to climb the Tower?" I thought to myself. My heart began pounding as if it would burst out of my chest at the mere thought. The Tower? Impossible.
They wouldn't even let someone like me, a Class F, into the Tower by myself, and even if they did, they'd probably be holding my funeral before I reached the seventh floor. But how much longer could I keep going like this? I was starving. Wouldn't it be better to die trying, with some hope of success, than to die hopelessly?
I was afraid of the Tower—terrified, even—but the thought of fading away without achieving anything, without anyone to remember me, scared me even more.
But how did I even plan to climb the Tower? Yes, I wanted to climb—but with what equipment? How would I protect myself—with a fruit knife? At the very least, it would be good to learn what I needed to get started.
I turned on the old computer on my desk. The air here was always dusty—if I left it for even two minutes, it would be covered in a layer of dust again. But I didn't even bother to wipe it anymore.
There were "Tower Guides" on the internet—posts and videos from people who had once climbed the Tower and come back. I entered the first site I saw: "babilrehberimm.org." It seemed like an old site, probably created sometime after the Towers first appeared twenty years ago. It didn't even have an AI assistant!
To view the forums, I had to log in with my Holograph.
"The T.R.A.O. really doesn't want the Unregistered to have easy access to information about the Tower" I thought.
Back in middle school, I had wanted to become an Ascended. I studied day and night for the entrance exams to get into the Ascended Academies. Even though I ended up in a Vocational Academy, since it was affiliated with the Ascended Academies, we still had to register our Holographs.
All citizens were required to register their Aura Fields in this era—you couldn't even ride the bus if you were Unregistered! If registration were free, that would be one thing, but it felt absurd to be charged for something that was mandatory... and it was 1,000 lira!
Thankfully, since I was in the academy, I had mine registered with state support. But what were people who didn't make it into the academy supposed to do? They weren't even allowed to use their own Aura Fields, something they were born with!
Sure, many still used them privately but was it really necessary to get permission to use something inherently yours? I don't know... Maybe the state has its reasons.
I was too hungry to waste energy thinking about this anyway.
I browsed a bit on "mybabelguidee.org" and came across a thread titled: "Climbing 101: What You Need to Know to Climb the Tower of Babel!"
"Hello friends, I'm Harun, your site moderator and experienced Ascended known by the handle 'KORKMAZ.' Many of you have written things like, 'KORKMAZ bro, they didn't teach us anything in the Vocational Academy, the education was a disaster.'
Even though you studied for four years, unfortunately, my friends, the Vocational Academy teaches you practically nothing about climbing the Tower..."
I could only nod at that. As the name suggests, the Vocational Academy trained us to use our Aura Fields in professions that could support Ascended climbing the Tower. The only thing we learned about the Tower of Babel was its history and some basic facts—information anyone could find with a single click in this era.
But I was done with reading.
I wanted to climb.