Chapter 564: Arcadia, The First Planet In All Creation (XLII)
They reached the fifth tower after a relatively short flight.
Unlike the previous towers, this one looked... strangely ordinary at first glance. Its exterior was made of smooth, pale stone that shimmered faintly under Arcadia’s ethereal light.
No grand runes, no swirling energies, no dramatic architecture.
It almost looked like an ancient temple from a mortal world. Modest, yet somehow imposing in its simplicity.
A single arched doorway stood at its base, strangely plain and unadorned.
But as they landed in front of it, a large, glowing panel materialized in the air, blocking the entrance.
Aestrea and Elleonora read it together in silence.
[As soon as you enter this tower, your whole power will be sealed. That means that you’ll only have the status of a mere mortal for the time inside of the tower.]
[To finish this tower, you’ll need to survive three different challenges related to "life". Only one person can enter at a time.]
[P.S. There’s no concept of time in this place. As soon as you get inside and leave... if you can leave, not even a millisecond will have passed.]
Aestrea frowned slightly, his red slit eyes narrowing at the panel. The part about sealing his power bothered him the most.
’Could the Creator still be able to seal my power?’ he thought, suspicion clear in his mind.
After absorbing fourt Trumpets and facing beings like the Primordial Chaos Divine Dragon, he had begun to doubt that anyone, even the Creator, could fully suppress him anymore.
And yet... there was this warning right in front of him.
Elleonora stood beside him, also frowning deeply. Her light blue eyes showed clear unease. She had seen how monstrously strong Aestrea had become.
The idea that this tower could strip all of that away, practically reducing him to a mere mortal, unsettled her more than she wanted to admit.
Aestrea sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I’ll get this shit done as fast as possible..."
Elleonora nodded, though her expression remained cautious.
She grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly.
"Be careful," she said softly, her voice laced with worry.
"If anything feels wrong... come back immediately. Don’t push it. I don’t care about the Trumpets if it means losing you."
Aestrea gave her a small, reassuring smile and pulled her into a brief but firm hug, kissing the top of her head.
"I’ll be fine. Wait for me here."
He stepped forward toward the arched doorway. The panel flickered once in acknowledgment, then vanished, allowing him passage.
Aestrea gave Elleonora one last glance over his shoulder. She stood there, arms wrapped around herself, watching him with anxious eyes.
Then he stepped inside.
The moment he crossed the threshold, everything changed.
A heavy, suffocating pressure slammed into him.
All his Authorities, all his Trumpet-granted powers, even his Chaotic Form — everything was instantly sealed away.
His aura disappeared completely.
His body felt... mortal... fragile, he didn’t know how to describe it.
It was if he was simply a mental patient who had been dreaming that he was omipotent, and suddenly woke up from his trance.
Aestrea clenched his fists, testing his strength.
It was still above average for a human, but compared to the godlike power he had grown used to, it felt like being stripped naked in enemy territory.
"...Here we go."
Aestrea stepped deeper into the fifth tower.
The moment he crossed the inner threshold, the world around him dissolved completely.
"My eyes..." he groaned slighly, squinting his eyes as much as he could.
When his vision cleared, he was no longer inside the tower.
He was standing in the middle of a luxurious penthouse apartment in a bustling modern city on Earth.
The floor-to-ceiling windows showed a glittering night skyline, skyscrapers glowing with neon and LED lights, cars streaming like rivers of light far below.
The apartment itself was sleek and expensive: minimalist furniture, abstract art on the walls, a grand piano in the corner, and a massive TV mounted on the wall.
Aestrea looked down at himself.
He was wearing a tailored black designer suit, slightly disheveled, as if he had just come back from a long night. In his pocket, he felt the strange weight of a smartphone.
"...A smarthpone?"
He pulled it out, and somehow knew that it was the latest model available, the screen lighting up with notifications.
[Discover your innerself.]
A panel popped right in front of him, and suddenly, his brain started hurting as a wave of new memories washed over him.
He wasn’t Aestrea Moon, God of Karma, anymore.
Not here.
Here, he was Aestrea Voss one of the biggest, most acclaimed actors in the world.
A top-tier superstar known for his intense method acting, award-winning performances, and a private life that the tabloids could never fully crack.
The identity settled over him like a second skin.
It wasn’t an illusion as it felt extremely heal. It was if the Tower had given him a complete, functioning life to "discover his inner self" within.
Aestrea exhaled slowly, gripping the phone tighter.
"So this is the first challenge..." he muttered.
"Discovering who I really am."
His phone buzzed again.
A message from his agent:
"Aestrea, where the hell are you? The director is losing his mind. We need you on set in 3 hours for the night shoot. Don’t pull another disappearing act."
Another notification, this time, a headline from a major entertainment site:
"Aestrea Voss Spotted Leaving Mysterious Private Club! Fans Speculate New Romance?"
Aestrea stared at the phone for a moment, then slipped it back into his pocket.
"Aestrea Voss... huh?"
The name felt both alien and intimately familiar.
This version of him had clawed his way to the top through raw talent and relentless method acting.
He had won Oscars, broken box office records, and maintained an air of mystery that drove the media insane. Paparazzi followed him everywhere, yet no one truly knew him.
He walked over to the marble kitchen island and poured himself a glass of water, drinking it slowly as he processed the situation.
The Tower hadn’t just thrown him into a random life, and instead, it had reconstructed one that mirrored parts of his original soul.
His phone buzzed again. This time, a text from an unknown number:
"Aestrea, it’s me. We need to talk. The rumors are getting worse. Call me."
Aestrea didn’t recognize the number, but the identity did as it was one of his rumored ex-girlfriends, a fellow actress trying to stir up publicity.
He ignored it.
Instead, he walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked out at the glittering city below.
The distant sound of traffic, sirens, and life hummed through the glass.
All of it... felt strangely small as before he could easily destroy a galaxy with the snap of his finger, much less a city that was extremely small compared to a galaxy.
"...Is this what the tower wants to see? A man without his overwhelmingly power to rule above the others?" he scoffed slightly.
Even back on his world, he still had quite an authority above everyone, except the most important figures such as the president, the military and things like that.
But compared to ordinary people, it was unreal to say that the difference were between heaven and earth.
He finished the water and set the glass down.
His agent had said three hours until the night shoot.
That gave him time to prepare, both for the role he was supposed to play in this world, and for whatever lesson this challenge was trying to force on him.
Aestrea walked into the massive walk-in closet. Rows of designer clothes, watches, and shoes lined the walls.
He changed into something more casual; dark jeans, a black shirt, and a leather jacket, then grabbed the keys to his sports car.
As he stepped into the private elevator, he caught his reflection in the mirrored walls.
Aestrea Voss stared back at him.
But behind him... he could still see his glowing-red slits looking back at him. That almost made him laugh.
"It seems that the tower doesn’t have such a strong authority to completely block my power~" he couldn’t help but laugh.
He got into his sports car and started driving through the glittering city streets in his sleek black sports car, the engine purring smoothly beneath him.
The bright lights of billboards featuring his own face passed by, including movie posters, brand endorsements, magazine covers.
It was surreal, yet strangely familiar.
He arrived at the massive film studio lot where the night shoot was scheduled. Security let him through immediately, recognizing the car.
He parked and walked into the bustling set area, where crew members were frantically setting up lights and cameras.
His agent, a middle-aged man named Marcus with a receding hairline and a permanent stressed expression, spotted him and stormed over.
"Aestrea! Where the hell have you been?!" Marcus shouted, face turning red as he got right in his face.
"We’ve been waiting for three hours! The director is about to lose his goddamn mind! Do you have any idea how much money is on the line here? You can’t just disappear like this every time you feel like it!"
Aestrea calmly looked at him, his expression unchanging.
Marcus continued ranting, waving his arms wildly.
"You think you’re untouchable just because you’re the biggest star right now? I’ve been covering for your ass for months! One more stunt like this and—"
Aestrea’s voice cut through the tirade, cold and sharp.
"Who the fuck do you think you are?"
The words carried an unnatural weight.
Marcus was thrown back physically, stumbling several steps as if an invisible force had shoved him. He caught himself on a lighting rig, eyes wide with shock and fear.
Aestrea walked past him without another glance, calmly sitting down in the director’s chair that had been set up for him.
He crossed his legs and looked at the agent with a bored, almost disdainful expression.
"You’re simply a mere agent..." he said, voice low but carrying across the suddenly quiet set.
"Do you think I couldn’t replace you in a matter of seconds? Do you know how many talented and popular agents call me every day trying to poach me?"
Marcus opened his mouth, but no words came out. The entire crew had gone silent, staring in shock at the confrontation.
Aestrea leaned back in the chair, his gaze piercing.
"I hired you, so you work for me, not the other fucking way around. Remember that before you open your damn crooked mouth ever again."
He waved a hand dismissively.
"Now get the director. We’re already behind schedule."
Marcus nodded frantically, sweat beading on his forehead, and scurried off like a frightened rat.
"Fucking hell..." Aestrea sighed softly, rubbing his temple.
Even in this illusory life, people still tried to test his patience.
