Alessio Leone's Perspective
Alessio had to admit it: he was surprised.
Surprised by the girls' courage.
Or maybe it was just their stubbornness.
He had been almost certain they would quit after Hana fainted.
And he wouldn't have blamed them if they did.
In fact, he hadn't even planned on convincing them to stay in the dungeon.
After all, it didn't matter that the healer there was Eleanor Whitmore.
Yes, the Eleanor — the one who, in ten years, would become one of the five greatest healers in the history of the Tower.
That future was still far away.
A whole decade away.
Today, Eleanor was just a novice who still trembled at the sight of a friend collapsing.
And that was perfectly normal.
It also didn't matter that the archer known as SilentArrow — whose real name he had just learned was Hana — showed a hidden potential he couldn't even measure yet.
He was certain there was something there, a raw talent that could bloom into something extraordinary if nurtured properly.
But that, too, was only a promise for the long term.
Right now, she was just a beginner who barely understood the real cost of burning through all her mana at once.
In the present, all he truly had before him were a few girls who, only hours ago, had been enchanted by the novelty of augmented reality.
Players who laughed, tested commands, marveled at spells like children at an amusement park.
And now, harshly, they had been thrown into a world of violence, blood, and pain.
That was why Alessio hadn't expected anything from them — nothing beyond fear and the desire to leave this place.
It was natural to want to get out.
And if they quit, he wouldn't blame them.
Of course, he had no intention of quitting the dungeon himself.
Even if it meant continuing only with Matteo.
He was already analyzing ways to progress as a duo.
It would be harder, no doubt.
Much slower.
But after facing the first sub-boss, he was certain it was doable.
Painful, risky, but possible.
Yet, unexpectedly, that wasn't what happened.
The girls didn't want to leave.
They didn't want to back down.
In fact, they wanted to push forward immediately.
It was almost absurd.
Determination burned in their eyes, replacing the fear that had frozen their bodies just minutes before.
As if Hana's collapse had left a mark — not one of surrender, but a spark of even stronger resolve to prove themselves.
The impulse was so strong that Alessio found himself forced to play the opposite role.
He had to convince them to stop.
To breathe.
To let their bodies and minds recover before crossing the next door.
Because if it were up to them, they'd already be marching toward the second sub-boss.
No pause.
No rest.
Only after a while did the group finally calm down and agree to rest, regaining their strength.
The girls sat in a circle, leaning against the uneven stone walls of the chamber.
Their quiet voices echoed softly, a sharp contrast to the heavy silence that had filled the room earlier.
Hana already looked better; color had returned to her cheeks, and though she still rubbed her temple, she managed to laugh at Cassandra's teasing.
Eleanor, on the other hand, watched over every little gesture as if she were a doctor tending patients in a makeshift infirmary.
Alessio drew a deep breath.
And, honestly, he had to admit something to himself.
Maybe it was that tenacity.
That irrational drive to keep going even in the face of brutal setbacks… maybe that was what helped Eleanor Whitmore become one of the greatest healers in the history of the Black Tower.
He had read her name countless times in the future…
Seen endless records of impossible feats attributed to her…
But now, watching it with his own eyes, seeing that determination take root so early, so vividly, was inspiring.
It felt like witnessing a legend being forged in real time.
A flicker of genuine respect crossed his mind.
Then he glanced to the side.
Matteo was nearby, sitting against the wall.
His friend had paper and pen in hand — scribbling furiously, quick lines, rushed notes, as if trying to capture every detail before memory betrayed him.
For a moment, Alessio arched a brow.
He had no idea where Matteo had even gotten paper and pen.
Maybe it was some kind of starter item for mages that he had overlooked.
Maybe just something Matteo had bought beforehand, a real-life habit carried into the Tower.
Either way, Alessio's curiosity was inevitable.
He moved closer, sitting beside him, shield propped against the stone.
"So?" he asked with a half-smile, his tone carrying the ease of old friends. "How's your first experience with games?"
Matteo paused his writing.
He lifted his eyes to Alessio, caught by the question, but didn't answer right away.
Instead, he leaned his head back, gazing up at the dungeon's stone ceiling.
His eyes looked distant, calculating, as if carefully picking each word before releasing it.
For long seconds, he stayed like that, torchlight reflecting faintly off his glasses.
Finally, the answer came.
"Honestly… it's insane," he said, smiling with a mix of wonder and disbelief. "This game blends reality and fantasy so perfectly it's almost frightening. Its creator is without a doubt a genius."
Alessio understood his friend's perspective.
It was true: the game worked hard to justify every superhuman feat of the players with real-world logic.
Every skill, every impossible move came with a plausible explanation — whether it was mana manipulation or the physical enhancements provided by attributes.
The Tower never settled for saying something happened "magically."
It demanded logic.
A body that jumped higher had muscles reinforced by Strength points.
A mind that endured more consecutive skills was backed by Intelligence.
Everything was tied together by clear rules, and that was what created the sense of perfection that impressed Matteo so much.
But Alessio knew this was only the beginning.
He knew that if his friend kept playing, sooner or later he would encounter things no calculation could explain.
Absurd things.
Indescribable things.
Because the true heart of the game still slept.
The Black Tower.
The colossal monolith rising at the world's center hadn't even fully awakened yet.
And it was there that reality and fantasy stopped balancing.
It was there that limits shattered.
And it was there that things truly became intense.