What the Tower Knows - Part 4
Date Posted: June 25, 2024
***Warning: Endwalker MSQ Spoilers Below!***
One approached a structure as majestic as Syrcus Tower with all of the respect it demanded. It was so much more than just a building, Amon knew. Even more than this “beacon of hope for mankind” that he sometimes heard tossed about now days.
In the ancient age, the Tower had stood at the heart of the Allagan Empire, the pillar of civilization. The source of energy for people far and wide across the continent. Even then, it was a guiding light from the past to the future.
Amon placed his hand on the crystal wall of the Ocular, his face patterned with the soft glows from above. He’d always felt a strange connection to Syrcus Tower, more so now than ever. At first, he thought it was just his desire to return to the Tower to reclaim the power he lost upon arriving in Eorzea.
But now, he wasn’t so sure. Maybe there was something more to it.
“Tower, please...” Amon spoke softly. Hesitant. How does one make a request like this of a Tower? “Take me back to the time when I came to be. Show me how it happened. Show me everything you saw and know.”
For a moment, there was nothing aside from the normal hum of the structure around him. The Technologist remained sill, his hand pressed against the crystal. He knew that one could not rush the truth.
As if to reward him, he felt the air in the chamber begin to shift and change. His skin prickled as the temperature grew rapidly cooler and the energies around him dimmed.
Static crossed his vision as everything around him changed, like a scene upon a virtual stage, slowly loading in a pixelized concept before coming into focus. It looked as if this was somewhere within the Tower, but he couldn’t place the exact location.
He saw himself, his old self, the Amon of ages past. Dressed in his garish finery, huge and imposing, taking up as much space as allowed in this non-descript location.
It took a moment to notice there was someone else there, standing before the Technologist. A normal-sized man, shrouded in black, with a fierce red mask obscuring his face. His aether was strange. Blurred. As if he was an anomaly that shouldn’t be there. Or didn’t want to be seen.
The posture between the two was one of conversation. The smaller man held himself in a nonchalant manner, despite having to crane his head back to speak with the giant Allagan. The Technologist held himself in a wary pose, seeming to have sized up this cloaked figure, and had determined this was something to be concerned about.
The voice of the dark man reached Amon’s ears, sparking a distant memory. Though he did not recall this exchange between himself and this man, the voice was familiar. He just couldn’t place where he’d heard it before.
“You know as well as I that the emperor stands to lose this war. And so I have come to claim you.”
Amon felt his skin crawl at this statement. Was this cloaked man… an Ascian? He seemed to fit the description, and that would explain the distortion of aether, perhaps.
“For while your methods leave something to be desired,” the man continued, taking a thoughtful stance, “We cannot deny the results of your work.”
Words like that may have flattered Amon in another time and place. But hearing them from this source filled him with increasing dread. Had “his work” been orchestrated by something beyond himself, as Clio had surmised?
“And as fortune would have it,” the voice grew pleasant in an unnerving way, “The seat of Fandaniel – your rightful seat – lies vacant and waiting.”
Fandaniel. There was that name, confirmed. But what did this “seat” mean, and how was it connected to him?
“Take your place amongst your peers, rather than die a pointless death amidst the ashes of your doomed nation,” the Ascian spoke strongly and with confidence. The words of one who did not expect his offer to be turned down.
The man then paused a moment before motioning in persuasion, “Send one of your clones to the Crystal Tower that you might see for yourself.”
Amon felt his throat tighten at this statement.
“See what lies ahead…”
And with that, static once again consumed Amon’s vision.