Arlen's eyes fluttered open to the faint hum of machines. A sharp scent of antiseptic stung his nose, and pale light filtered through the room's curtains, painting soft streaks across his vision. The sterile chill of the infirmary felt foreign compared to the chaos that still echoed in his mind.
He blinked slowly, piecing together fragments — the roar of the humanoid figure, the flash of lightning, Lira's cry, then nothing. Only silence.
He turned his head slightly, muscles protesting with a dull ache. A familiar figure rested by his bedside — Lira Vale, her head nestled on her arms, fast asleep beside him. Her usually pristine hair was a tangled mess, her uniform still singed at the edges from battle. Even in sleep, faint traces of exhaustion clung to her expression.
For a moment, he simply stared. There was something grounding about her presence — something that made the storm in his chest ease.
> "You really stayed here the whole time?" he murmured softly.
Her eyes blinked open at the sound of his voice. Relief flooded her face instantly, and she sat up with a mix of shock and joy.
> "You're awake!" she exclaimed, voice cracking slightly. "You idiot… you've been out for three days!"
Arlen blinked. "Three… days?"
> "Yes," she said, half angry, half relieved. "You scared everyone. Jay nearly broke through the medical wing just to check if you were alive. Even the guild master came by twice."
He gave a weak smile, wincing as pain flared through his ribs. "Guess I owe him an explanation."
> "You owe me an explanation first," she snapped. But her voice wavered as tears welled in her eyes. "I thought— I thought you were—"
He reached out instinctively, his hand brushing against hers. "I'm here. I'm fine now."
For a long moment, neither spoke. The quiet hum of the healing pods filled the silence between them, warm and oddly peaceful.
---
Later that afternoon, the infirmary door slid open with a hiss, and Guild Representative Varen stepped inside. His silver insignia gleamed — a mark of high rank within the Vale Guild.
> "Arlen Frost," Varen greeted, voice steady but lined with concern. "You've caused quite the stir, young man."
Arlen straightened as best as he could. "Sorry for the trouble, sir."
Varen's gaze flicked toward Lira, who still hovered protectively near Arlen's bedside. "Lira Vale. Your father sends his regards — and his expectations."
Her expression softened briefly before she turned serious again. "We did what we had to do. The mission failed because of… unforeseen interference."
Varen nodded, placing a data chip on the bedside console. "The Guild's scouts confirmed your account — the humanoid figure you encountered doesn't match any known creature. Its readings were… off the charts."
Arlen frowned. "Off the charts?"
Varen crossed his arms. "Your mana signatures — both of yours — spiked beyond measurable limits during that confrontation. And yet, the system couldn't classify it. It's like something tampered with the records."
Arlen's chest tightened. "Tampered?"
> "We'll continue investigating," Varen said evenly. "For now, you both are to rest. The Guild Master will summon you when you're cleared for active duty again."
As he left, Lira exhaled quietly. "Guess that's our break revoked."
Arlen chuckled softly. "Good. I hate sitting still."
---
That night, when the infirmary lights dimmed and most of the other patients were asleep, Lira sat by the window, staring out into the neon-lit skyline. The city pulsed with energy — the heart of a world that still spun despite everything they had seen beyond the borders.
> "You know," she said without turning around, "I still don't understand how we survived out there."
Arlen leaned back on his bed, eyes half-closed. "Luck, maybe."
> "Don't give me that," she replied, glancing at him. "You did something. Back there — right before the humanoid fell — you changed."
His eyes opened slowly, but confusion clouded them. "Changed?"
> "You looked… different. Your eyes, your aura — everything. It was like you weren't even human for a second."
Arlen frowned. "I don't remember that."
She studied him for a moment, then sighed. "Figures. Maybe the adrenaline messed with my head."
But deep down, she knew it wasn't her imagination. The moment had burned into her memory — the surge of godlike power that had radiated from him, the stillness that followed as if the world itself held its breath.
---
Days passed. Arlen recovered quickly — faster than anyone expected. By the end of the week, he was walking through the Vale Guild's corridors again, the hum of mana circuits echoing through the metallic halls.
Every few steps, guild members turned to glance at him — whispers trailing behind like shadows.
> "That's the kid from the border mission…"
"They say he fought off something no one else could identify."
"He's a B-rank, right? Should've been dead."
Lira walked beside him, clearly used to the attention. "Get used to it," she muttered under her breath. "You're a celebrity now."
> "Great," Arlen replied dryly. "Just what I needed — more eyes on me."
She smirked. "Could be worse. At least they're not asking for autographs."
---
They entered the training arena. The Vale Guild's simulation dome loomed overhead, an enormous glass sphere alive with blue mana circuits. Inside, energy fields pulsed, ready to recreate any terrain or monster for training simulations.
> "Back to training already?" Lira asked.
> "If I'm going to be stuck waiting for a debrief, I might as well keep sharp," he replied, stretching his arms.
She crossed her arms, smirking. "Then don't blame me if I beat you this time."
> "You can try," Arlen said, sparks of lightning flickering faintly around his hands.
Moments later, the arena shimmered to life. Their surroundings shifted — trees, rocks, and glowing mana beasts formed from light. The ground trembled as the simulation locked in.
Lira lunged first, her blade singing through the air. Arlen parried with a surge of lightning, the impact sending a shockwave across the arena. Sparks and frost scattered with every clash.
> "Still holding back?" she taunted.
> "You're imagining things," he said, smiling faintly.
They moved in a blur, each strike faster, sharper, more fluid than before. Though it was just a spar, both poured everything into it — a dance between electricity and steel.
Finally, the simulation flickered and ended with both of them panting, blades crossed.
> "Draw," Lira said, grinning.
> "For now," Arlen replied.
---
Later that evening, as they sat at the guild's rooftop garden overlooking the city, silence stretched comfortably between them.
> "Do you ever wonder," Lira said quietly, "what's waiting for us out there? Beyond the borders — past even what the guild knows?"
Arlen watched the horizon, where the sun melted into streaks of crimson and gold. "Every day."
She turned to him. "You're not afraid?"
He shook his head. "Not anymore."
> "Then what drives you?"
He paused, searching for the words. "Something inside me tells me there's more — something I've forgotten. I just don't know what it is yet."
Lira smiled faintly. "Then I'll make sure you find it — whatever it is."
Arlen glanced at her, a small, genuine smile crossing his face. "I know."
---
That night, as the stars shimmered faintly above, the wind carried whispers from beyond the horizon — faint, almost inaudible echoes of something vast and ancient stirring once more.
And in the stillness, somewhere deep within Arlen's dormant system, a fragment of energy pulsed — faint, but growing stronger.
> System Log: Dormant celestial code detected. Fragment sync — 3%.
---