Light
So bright
The light was sure not going easy on him, Vorn opened his eyes slowly, he didn't panic he just stared at the ceiling, then the pain returned.
His ribs screamed, his throat ached, his head pulsed like someone had stuffed a metronome behind his eyes.
"...Still alive."
He whispered it, not really happy about it, Just stating facts, he turned his head, slowly, a drip bag, some kind of medical monitor blinking quietly, the sound of faint beeps and chair by the door with no one in it.
He tried sitting up.
Mistake.
His body folded in on itself like wet paper. A groan slipped out of his chest.
Okay, not yet.
His hand instinctively reached under the pillow, fingers touched metal, the glasses, still there
Phew-
"Thought I lost it" he slid them on, no shimmer, no flashes, they adjusted immediately.
[User Vitality: 37%] [Stabilizing...]
He lay back, stared at the ceiling again, he wasn't just Vorn, that was the problem, he had Vorn's name, Vorn's face, Vorn's injuries, but underneath it... someone else.
_"I still remember the taste of ramen. I remember deadlines. I remember... standing at a train station and the feeling of life being pointless."
But now... this body bled red onto dungeon floors. And ate meat raw.
Two minds, one corpse, and yet somehow, they weren't fighting.
---
The door creaked open. A woman in a light-blue coat stepped in, early 30s, Bureau crest on her badge, short hair, pinned back and a calm face.
"You're awake."
Vorn didn't answer, she walked to the monitor, checked something, Jotted a few notes.
"You were in a gate. Trial-type. Category D." She glanced at him. "Alone."
He nodded faintly.
"Not many survive that, especially not unregistered." Her voice didn't accuse, but it didn't trust either.
"I don't remember much," he rasped. Honest lie.
She scribbled something else. Her pen clicked.
"We're listing you as a Class Unknown for now, no aura signature, no mana footprint, but something… helped you. Any comments?"
He looked at her. Then looked away.
"Lucky, I guess."
Her brow twitched, but she didn't press.
"You'll be moved to temporary shelter status once cleared. For now—rest. The Bureau handles its own." She turned to leave, paused.
"There was someone here earlier, asked about you. Said they were your sibling."
Vorn blinked.
"...Did you tell them anything?"
"Just that you were unconscious, they left a name—Seren, ring any bells?"
His throat clenched. Seren. That name came from deep inside the other mind. It hurt to hear it. Not in a bad way. Just... like pressure on an old bruise.
"Yeah," he whispered. "That's... my sister."
She nodded.
"We'll inform her if you wake again."
He didn't say anything.
The door closed.
---
It came back slowly, not his memories, Vorn's. The other Vorn. They weren't vivid, more like photos dipped in mud, blurry faces, muffled laughs, a hand patting his head, another slapping the back of it.
A room, dim, broken lamp, two bowls, one empty another full, she always fed me first, even when we had nothing. His chest felt heavy, not just pain. Guilt? He didn't know.
---
He dozed. Dreamed.
Screaming, blood, crunching bone, Gutterspawn snarling, the card burning red. Mother's face. Gone.
---
He woke with a jolt. The lights flickered.
[Drop of Blood – Rank: Minor – Stabilized]
[Glasses Sync Rate: 81%]
[Analyzing...]
He sat up slowly, pain still there. But something else, too.
Strength.
His fingers didn't tremble, his vision sharper, he could hear footsteps down the hall. A vending machine 3 rooms over.
The blood... it was working.
The card hadn't shown itself since. But he felt it, curled deep in his chest like a patient animal, waiting.
---
Hours passed, he was given food and he ate quietly, some of it made him gag—flavorless Bureau nutrition—but his body devoured every bite, he asked for a change of clothes, got them, plain gray sweats, hoodie.
When he looked in the mirror, glasses on, he saw two things:
Vorn and something else inside, he didn't know what it was but he could feel it was helpful.
He smirked.
"I can work with this."
---
That evening, while pretending to sleep, he overheard agents outside his room.
"—still no aura?" "Zero. Like scanning a corpse." "You think he's faking?" "Doesn't matter. HQ wants a watch on him, no talent wakes up in a dungeon and survives a 3-hour trial with no help." "And that thing on his chest?" "No idea. Readings say artifact. Could be junk, could be Rank A+."
They walked away.
He grinned to himself in the dark.
"...Junk, huh."
The glasses pulsed once.
[New Notification Available]
He opened it with a thought.
[System Alert: Path Detected — Veiled Noir]
[Condition: Masked Existence] [Requirement: Remain Unreadable by All Detection Abilities] [Bonus: Blood Drop Upgrade Frequency Doubled]
[Warning: Aura Detection = Death Condition]
He sat back.
So that was it. The game wanted him quiet, invisible and in exchange—it would keep feeding him power.
He pulled the blanket over his eyes, free food, free bed, no patrols.
Honestly?
Not a bad place to start.