colossal heights. the city where you originally came — if it could even be called that — had crammed living conditions. each “house” was more like a room, with a width and length no bigger than 7 feet. basic amenities like running water or electricity, even food, were scarce. mainly because all those resources were funnelled to the top, where production and factories lay. unlike other cities, monarchies, or towns, instead of resting horizontally on the planet, it rested vertically. people say that long ago, a huge wall of concrete was built to touch the sky and clouds, and a prosperous city would be built upon it. to be considered the 8th wonder of the world was its goal. alas, nothing goes as planned. the ventilation units were the worst, hanging off the edge with the other houses; they threaten to fall off at any time. so much smoke. day and night, it acted like a heavy fog blanketing the heights. anyone unlucky enough to be trapped there would never be able to leave. that was the tale of colossal heights.

north imperial. the empire where tartaglia originally came. military was its strongest defense. guarded by a fortress of marble, no one could get in or out. but, it wasn’t bad. amenities were never scarce, the people lived comfortably, even the less fortunate. the capital of the north imperial was a grand palace with open walls. blood-red roses and graceful ivy decorated the walls. it almost reached the same height as colossal heights, if only it were a few hundred feet longer. tartaglia was born into the royal court of the empire, wearing poofy clothes and tight ruffs. sure, he was grateful for what he had, but he wanted something different. there had to be more to life than sitting in an office all day, writing letters to other kingdoms. the only people who were ever allowed to leave the city were soldiers or military advisors. for that, you had to be born into the middle or lower class. he wanted to go out and explore, but he couldn’t. what was life like outside the walls?

when you fell from your house at colossal heights, you thought that you were going to die. the fall seemed to never stop. dirt and debris got in your eyes, the smoke staining your skin. every house wooshed by, forming a disgusting gray blur of lines. a pool of stone was at the bottom, the foundation of colossal heights. bracing yourself for impact, you landed. landing on a grassy pasture, you were still alive. it made no sense. there wasn’t a stone foundation, just an illusion from the fog. the grass felt like silk, and the wind blew through your entire body. if it were any stronger, it could’ve blown you away. the unnatural wind patterns blew the clouds disturbingly close to the surface, you could touch them with your fingertips. for the first time in your life, you took a step forward without having to hold onto anything.

the night sky of a desolate void loomed above tartaglia as he walked through the quiet streets of the kingdom. he stood by the gate, longing to just push it open. he tried, but it was locked. he collapsed against it, closing his eyes. of course, he wouldn’t be able to escape. he thought he heard sounds outside the wall, but thought it was just his imagination. it sounded like a constant clicking or tapping against marble. all of a sudden, a huge grinding sound. looking up, he saw a person sliding down the wall as if it were a surfboard with no tools or anything. amazed and terrified, his eyes followed the person until they landed. immediately, he rushed up to them.

focusing his gaze on you, he realized that the person came from colossal heights. the black paint markings on your face gave it away. the boots and gloves you wore that had extra-grip strength was what helped you hop the wall. he thought no one could escape from colossal heights. maybe you could help him escape from north imperial.

he reached out, touching the fabric of your shirt curiously. rough and scratchy. “how did you do that!? that was insane!” he exclaimed, still invading your personal space. “... who are you?”