[ It sounds like Royce is moving, when he comes up on the network. Pacing, maybe. His voice is low, tinged slightly British, for those who may have not heard him before, and is, for those who have heard him before, uncharacteristically hurried. It's almost as if he can't get the words out fast enough. ] The world I came from was a place named Elan. There was a story that's been passed around from city to city all across Elan of two men who climbed a tower. Wasn't just any tower. The
Crown Tower, tall as the sky itself and locked up tighter than a Colnoran merchant's coin purse. Owned by the Patriarch himself. Nobody went in, nobody went out. Nobody could. The only door was locked and there were no windows, except for the ones at the very, very top of the tower.
There was a book, in that tower, a book that these two men stole, but the book was never the important part of the story. The important part was that these two men scaled an impossible tower, at night, with harsh winds and winter cold nipping at their fingers, and made it to the top. Inside the tower. It was rumored to take hours, but they did it. All without being caught.
[ There's a pause. ] I've always thought I could do it.
[ He did do it. But he's not about to announce that he broke into the Crown Tower over the network, even if nobody knows what it is. ] I've been thinking about that story this morning, looking at the metal wall downtown.
[ He's pretty sure that this is the most he's ever said in one sitting in this place. He sighs heavily, because for as much as he's annoyed that he can't stop talking, he can't deny how good it feels, either. This is good. He feels invincible. Deep breath. ] Can't do much else. Can't sleep. I don't sleep. I don't need to, really. It's better this way. Can't imagine it's going to stop. I think maybe that it would wear off if - but I've been told I'm not allowed to do
that.
[ He pauses - there are voices in the background, and hurriedly, Royce turns his feed off. Anticlimactic! ]