The forest was quiet now, save for the crackling fire and the merchants whispering thanks.
But inside me?
Storms.
I could still feel it—like a flame smoldering in my chest, eating away at something I couldn't see.
Every time I revived someone, the warmth grew heavier. Darker.
Narsh broke the silence first.
"Oi, muscle-brain. You look like you just swallowed a rock. What's wrong?"
I forced a smile. "Nothing. Just tired."
Malrik's voice cut in, sharp and cold.
"No. He knows."
---
The priest stood, staff in hand, eyes burning.
"You feel it, don't you, boy? The pull. The cost. Every time you return a soul, something tears inside you."
The merchants stared, wide-eyed.
Narsh clenched her fists.
I wanted to argue. To say it was fine. That saving a life was worth anything.
But my throat closed. Because deep down… I knew Malrik was right.
The memory of that burning pain in my chest still lingered.
---
Later that night, while the merchants slept, Narsh sat across from me by the fire.
"Alright, spit it out. You're quieter than usual. Normally by now you'd be flexing at the flames and calling it muscle-fire or some sh*t."
I hesitated.
"…What if Malrik's right? What if every time I use this power, I lose something? What if one day… there's nothing left of me?"
Narsh didn't answer right away. She just poked at the fire with a stick.
Then she smirked.
"Then you'll be a dumbass with no soul but amazing abs."
I groaned. "Not funny."
Her smile softened. Just a little.
"Listen, Ark. You can't save everyone. That's just the truth. Sometimes… you'll have to choose who to let go."
---
Her words hit me harder than any training session.
Me? Choose?
Every instinct in me screamed against it.
If I had the power to save someone—how could I just stand by?
But what if saving them meant destroying myself?
What if next time… I couldn't get back up?
---
Malrik's words echoed again:
"Every revival is a gamble."
Narsh's words followed, quieter but sharper:
"You can't save everyone."
And in the middle of those two voices was me, trembling by the fire, torn in half.
---
That night, I didn't do a single push-up.
And for the first time since I was three years old… I doubted my own strength.
---
[Author's Note: Ark's first real moment of hesitation. The next time someone dies, will he use his power… or won't he?]