The Shattered Façade
San Francisco. Levi's Luxury Apartment. Time: 10:30 PM.
The click of the door closing resonated like a gunshot in the subsequent silence. The confrontation with the FBI had lasted barely three minutes, yet it had drained Levi more than a five-hour overtime game.
The System's temporary reprieve, the [Temporary Skill: Actor's Embodiment], had flickered out the moment the door sealed.
The consequence was instant and catastrophic.
The agonizing, amplified pain—the combined, deferred trauma of a hundred tackles, collisions, and the desperate, bloody friction of standing on shattered champagne glass—hit him like a reversing tsunami. His internal suffering, 1000% magnified, drowned out all reason.
He fell from the illusion of strength, his body liquefying into a mass of cold, helpless flesh. The rigid posture melted, and he crumpled onto the expensive rug, the broken glass still embedded in his palms where he had used them as anchor points.
"Levi! You idiot!"
Dr. Sophie Vance, charging from the bathroom, screamed his name. Her initial shock over the FBI agents was instantly eclipsed by the terror of seeing the indestructible man brought low. Still wrapped only in a white bath towel, she dropped the surgical knife she'd grabbed in a primal defense, her knees hitting the plush carpet.
She caught his falling body, pulling him into her lap. His skin was terrifyingly ashen, slick with cold sweat, yet his body temperature spiked. His eyes were not just closed; they were slightly rolled back, exposing the whites beneath.
She gently lifted his hands, gasping at the sight. The skin was lacerated, not just cut, but torn where he had forcibly braced his weight on the tiny, sharp daggers of glass.
"You... you crazy fool!" Sophie cried out, tears instantly blurring her vision. She pressed her fingers against his neck, searching for a pulse. It was erratic, thready, sprinting through his veins. "The pain, Levi! You were shaking! You endured that just to—"
He was weak as a child in her arms. His lips moved faintly, tasting blood from where he'd bitten his tongue to maintain the silent bluff. "Don't cry..." he managed, his voice a rasp against her ear. He forced a small, weak smile, savoring the unnatural softness of her embrace. "Dr. Sophie... can my acting... win an Oscar?"
Sophie choked on a sob, a hysterical laugh escaping her. She gently tapped his chest—a light blow that still caused Levi's whole frame to twitch. "Yes! A Lifetime Achievement Award! Now shut up, you!"
She held him tighter, pulling him away from the damp chill of the floor. The initial professional panic receded, leaving behind a fierce, protective instinct. She didn't see the specimen anymore; she saw the wounded man who had shielded her.
"I don't know what kind of weapon you are," she whispered into his hair, "but tonight... I will guard you."
The Unbearable Weight of Vulnerability
Time: 3:00 AM. The Master Bedroom.
The next few hours were a descent into the deepest hell Levi had ever known. The 1000% pain sensitivity was not metaphorical. The sensation of the silk sheets felt like wire wool dragging across raw nerves. The gentle air conditioning was like a million invisible, tiny surgical knives slicing his skin.
He was soaked through three sets of pajamas. Every involuntary twitch of a muscle sent a seismic wave of agony through his spine. He couldn't move, couldn't fight, and worst of all, couldn't use his mind to bypass the suffering. His arrogance was paralyzed, replaced by raw, screaming vulnerability.
Sophie hadn't slept a wink. She sat in a chair by his king-sized bed, her face pale with exhaustion, but her eyes sharp and focused. Her hands were perpetually busy, gently dabbing the cold sweat, adjusting the blankets so they didn't exert pressure, or feeding him minute sips of water.
Levi watched her move—efficient, tender, and completely focused on him. He had always trusted his physical might. Now, in the face of his System's betrayal, his only defense was this fragile human woman.
"Dr. Sophie," Levi whispered, his voice cracking, "Is this... VIP private nursing service? How expensive is the year pass?"
"Hush," she sighed, a hint of a smile playing on her lips, but her eyes were sad. "It's very expensive. You'll repay me with your body later. When it's not trying to kill you."
An awkward silence followed, broken only by Levi's shallow, pained breathing.
Then, the mighty Human Tank, the man who had effortlessly shrugged off an 11-man blitz, looked utterly distressed, his brow furrowed in genuine embarrassment. "I... I need to use the restroom," he mumbled, a helpless blush creeping up his pale neck.
Sophie's eyes widened, a sudden, deep blush rising to her cheeks. She knew he was completely immobile. The clinical walls she had spent a decade building instantly threatened to crumble.
"Ahem. I am a doctor. You are a patient. This is normal," she recited the mantra, taking a deep, fortifying breath. She carefully draped his arm over her shoulder, hoisting his dead weight against her slender frame.
The five meters to the bathroom were an eternity. The friction of his skin against her towel, the sheer physical strain on her arms, and the overwhelming proximity—it was a brutal intimacy they shared.
Inside the bathroom, the situation escalated further. Levi's hands shook too violently, the System's penalty making his motor control non-existent.
The air solidified again, dense with mortification and necessity.
Sophie bit her lip, closed her eyes tightly, and reached out. "Don't move! I'll help you!"
The Unbreakable Bond
Returning to the bed, both were physically drained and emotionally scorched. They avoided each other's eyes.
"Sleep!" Sophie covered Levi with the blanket, her voice trembling slightly. She retreated to her chair like a furious ostrich. "If you dare speak of tonight, I swear, I will find a way to inject you with cyanide during your next physical!"
Levi watched her, the weak smile returning, now tinged with genuine warmth and immense gratitude. The physical vulnerability had exposed a profound, human connection. The invincible shell had been stripped away, revealing a mortal, vulnerable core. And it was this simple, shared extremity that had forged a bond stronger than Diamond Skin.
He closed his eyes.
[SYSTEM COUNTDOWN: Recovery in 6 Hours.]
The night was dark, but the true storm—the Non-Natural Force Hearing orchestrated by Roger Goodell—would descend at 10 AM. Levi had to survive the next six hours to stand a chance.