A/N: Writing this chapter made me realize once again that Slice of Life really is my forte, lol. It took me three whole days to write the Final Game chapter, but this one took barely a day(two days actually, but since I spent most of the first day writing the draft soooo (ᵕ—ᴗ—))
By the way, there is something I want to clarify. In the past, I created a skill called 'Empathy' with the effect: 'Allows the Host to sense the emotions and intentions that sentient beings hold toward the Host through a spiritual connection. The barrier between 'hearts' is thinned.'
The problem was that I had not put much thought into the exact mechanics back then, so I never described what the skill actually is. So I am going to correct that here and explain it in more detail now.
Empathy describes a target's emotions and intentions as simple adjectives such as Caring, Suspicious, and so on. Furthermore, it can only activate when Cedric—whether intentionally or unintentionally—focuses on the target, and the target themselves must harbor some feeling or intention directed toward Cedric.
I am clarifying this now because Empathy plays an important role in this chapter, and its implications will matter again in the next one.
...
...
...
The ICU had its own kind of silence. It was never truly quiet; machines hummed, monitors clicked, rubber wheels rolled somewhere beyond the door.
Yet all of those sounds seemed distant, softened by the strange stillness that settled around an unconscious patient.
For days, the bed had been the center of that stillness. Now, for the first time, something had changed.
Gible's fins sprang upright the instant Cedric's finger moved beneath its chin.
For several seconds, the tiny blue creature remained completely motionless, as though some primitive instinct had suddenly warned it that something impossibly important had happened—and that even the slightest movement might somehow make the miracle disappear.
Its round eyes widened in the dimness of the hospital room, catching the pale green glow of the monitor beside the bed. Its broad head slowly lifted away from Cedric's hand so it could stare directly at the boy who had spent the last several days lying completely still, surrounded by the quiet machinery that had become the creature's entire world.
Then the finger moved again.
It was barely a movement at all.
A tiny curl.
A weak twitch.
Yet there was purpose behind it.
Gible's mouth opened slightly.
"Gyu...?"
Its snout lowered once more, pressing carefully against Cedric's fingers as though the creature needed to verify that what it had felt was real and not merely some trick of exhaustion after so many nights spent sleeping beside the bed. There was a fragile hope in the gesture, simple enough that a human might have missed it.
The finger brushed over its scales again.
Gible's eyes widened.
A small tremor ran through its body.
It immediately lifted its head and looked toward the other side of the bed.
And Ellen was already staring at Cedric.
She had been sitting in the same rigid plastic chair for what felt like an eternity, her oversized black hoodie hanging loosely around her shoulders and the unfinished lollipop resting forgotten between two fingers. The candy had long since lost whatever sweetness it had started with, but she had not bothered to notice.
She had spent most of the night watching the same slow rise and fall of Cedric's chest, listening to the same rhythm of the heart monitor, and pretending that she was merely there because she happened to have nowhere better to be. The chair had slowly dug a hard imprint into her back, yet she had barely shifted.
Now she was no longer pretending. The excuse had become impossible to maintain the moment his eyelids moved.
Her crimson eyes were completely focused on Cedric.
"Cedric?"
Her voice was quiet, almost uncertain—the kind of uncertainty that only appeared when someone was afraid that speaking any louder might break something fragile.
There was no answer.
Ellen stood.
The chair legs scraped softly against the floor.
Scrape.
She leaned forward, her tired posture disappearing completely as she studied his face. The shadows beneath her eyes were obvious now that she was no longer trying to hide them.
"Cedric."
His eyelids twitched.
Ellen froze.
For a heartbeat, she didn't breathe.
Then his eyelids moved again.
Slowly.
Heavier than they should have been, as though the simple act of waking required his body to remember how consciousness worked after days of silence.
His eyes opened.
…
…
…
White.
That was all Cedric could see.
The ceiling lights were painfully bright, washing the room in a sterile glare that made his vision swim whenever he tried to focus.
His eyes blinked repeatedly as the world slowly took shape around him: blurred outlines of machines, curtains, walls, and unfamiliar medical equipment gradually separating themselves from the white haze. The air smelled sharply of disinfectant, and somewhere close by a machine gave a patient electronic chirp at regular intervals.
His body felt impossibly heavy and his limbs were sluggish, as though someone had replaced the muscles in them with wet sand.
His thoughts seemed to move through thick fog, arriving several seconds after he had already reached for them.
And there was no sharp pain.
That was probably the first strange thing he noticed.
He remembered pain.
He remembered too much of it.
Yet what he felt now was different.
It was exhaustion.
A strange, deep heaviness that seemed to seep into his muscles and bones. There was a dull tug at his arm, the uncomfortable pressure of bandages and a cast, the dry pull of an IV line against his skin, and an unfamiliar awareness of every place where his body had been forced to remain still.
He took a slow breath, testing his lungs before he dared to trust them.
Something was pressing against his chest.
Cedric frowned.
He tried to shift one shoulder.
The weight shifted with him.
His eyes lowered.
His gaze lowered by instinct, following the pressure against his chest.
Before Cedric was a strange creature he had never seen before.
It was small and squat, covered in blue scales, with a broad head topped by a shark-like fin. A bright red-orange belly showed beneath its body, while its wide mouth revealed a row of small, triangular teeth. Tiny arms rested against his chest, warm and surprisingly solid, while a pair of round eyes stared directly into his own.
Cedric stared.
The creature stared back.
For some reason, the sight of the little creature softened something in him. Perhaps it was simply the absurdity of waking up to find a strange animal sleeping on his chest. Perhaps it was the way the creature looked at him as though his awakening mattered.
He remembered how little the skill had seemed to matter during previous battles. Here, in the quiet of a hospital room, its usefulness suddenly felt much more intimate.
He almost dismissed the reaction as simple curiosity, then remembered the passive skill the System had given him: Empathy.
Cedric let his attention settle on the creature.
For an instant, nothing happened.
Then the connection opened.
Relieved.
Affectionate.
Anxious.
The impressions were simple, almost weightless, but unmistakably aimed at him.
Cedric blinked.
Then again.
'...What?'
The familiar voice of the System reached him almost immediately, carrying the same teasing warmth he remembered from before his consciousness had disappeared.
[Hey, you. You're finally awake.]
Cedric's eyes drifted toward the ceiling.
[You took your time.]
The playful note remained for another moment before the System's voice softened.
[...I'm glad you're awake, Cedric.]
Cedric swallowed.
But his throat felt dry enough to scratch. He then tried to swallow again and immediately regretted it.
His gaze returned to the strange blue creature lying on his chest.
It had not moved.
'What is this creature?'
There was a short pause.
[I'll explain about that later.]
Cedric attempted to inhale more deeply.
The creature shifted instinctively with the movement and settled its weight more firmly against his chest.
Cedric's eyebrows tightened.
It was not exactly painful, but it was uncomfortable enough that he wanted it gone.
He raised his left hand.
He tried moving his shoulder instead, attempting to create enough room beneath himself to breathe more comfortably.
The creature adjusted its body immediately and settled itself back into exactly the same position.
Cedric stared down at it.
'...You're kinda heavy.'
The sound was so small that it might have been nothing more than a breath. But after days of silence, even that tiny sound drew Cedric's attention immediately.
A quiet sigh came from beside the bed.
Then someone called his name.
"Cedric."
His eyes shifted toward the voice.
The girl standing there looked young, with pale skin and long, dark hair falling around her shoulders. Crimson eyes watched him closely beneath the hood of an oversized black hoodie, while a shark-like tail rested quietly behind her.
There were small signs that she had not taken proper care of herself while he was unconscious: a few strands of hair were out of place, the sleeve of her hoodie was creased from sleeping in the same position, and the unfinished lollipop was still between her fingers.
For a moment, Cedric simply stared.
Then the name surfaced in his mind.
"Ellen?"
Her expression shifted slightly.
"Yeah."
She stepped closer to the bed, looking him over carefully. Her eyes moved from his face to the cast on his right arm, then down to the monitor, as if she needed visual confirmation of every answer he gave.
"Can you hear me clearly?"
"Yes."
"How are you feeling?"
Cedric took a moment to consider it.
"Tired."
Ellen nodded.
"Anything hurt?"
"No."
Her eyes lingered on his face for another second, searching for any sign that he was minimizing something.
"Good."
Cedric shifted slightly beneath the blankets.
The movement made the small creature on his chest settle more heavily against him.
His eyebrows tightened.
And Ellen noticed that.
Her gaze dropped to Gible.
Then back to Cedric.
"...Oh."
She reached down.
"Come here."
The creature's eyes opened instantly.
"Gyu?"
Ellen moved carefully, not because the creature was fragile, but because she had already learned that Gible had very strong opinions about being moved.
Ellen slipped one hand underneath its body.
The moment Gible understood what she intended to do, its sleepy expression vanished. Its tiny arms shot forward and locked around Cedric's hospital gown. A tiny burst of alarm crossed its face, followed immediately by stubborn attachment. The reaction was so simple and obvious that Cedric almost felt sorry for it.
"Gii!"
Ellen stared at the little claws gripping the fabric.
"Let go."
"Gii!"
"I'm just moving you."
Gible tightened its grip.
Cedric glanced between them.
"It really doesn't want to move."
Ellen gave him a flat look.
"I'm not blind."
She tried prying the claws loose one by one, but Gible clung stubbornly to the fabric, flattening itself against Cedric's chest as though the hospital gown were the only thing keeping the world from taking Cedric away again.
"You're going to pull his clothes off."
She tried again. One claw came free, then another, but Gible replaced each one almost immediately.
Finally, with a careful pull, Ellen freed the last claw and lifted the little creature off the bed.
"Giii!"
Gible immediately reached back toward Cedric. Ellen caught it against her chest before it could climb onto him again.
"No."
She opened the black duffel bag with one hand.
The moment Gible saw it, its fins stiffened.
"No."
"Gyu?"
"You're going in."
Gible twisted toward Cedric. He raised a weak hand, and it stopped just long enough to look at him.
Ellen's expression softened.
"You'll see him again. Right now, you need to stay hidden."
She lowered Gible into the bag. It caught the edge and immediately tried to climb back out.
Ellen sighed.
"This is ridiculous."
After a brief struggle, she pushed it down and pulled the zipper almost closed, leaving a small gap for air.
Ziiip.
The bag went still.
Ellen rested a hand on top of it.
"All right, you little one."
Silence.
Her crimson eyes narrowed.
"I'm serious."
The movement stopped.
She waited a moment before quietly adding,
"If anyone finds out I brought a blue land-shark into an ICU, I'm going to be in big trouble."
A muffled "Giiii." came from inside.
"Taking care of you over the past few days has left me exhausted. So please stay quiet, okay?"
"…Gyuuu."
The bag finally became completely still.
Cedric watched the entire exchange.
The fog in his mind had begun to thin enough that he could finally appreciate just how absurd the situation was. The sterile ICU, the IV in his arm, the cast, and the machines surrounding him all suggested seriousness; the sight of a blue land-shark being smuggled into the ward in a black duffel bag suggested something else entirely.
The girl who had apparently spent days looking after the strange creature had just wrestled with it in an ICU room and hidden it in a duffel bag like contraband.
He looked at Ellen.
Then at the bag.
'...It listens to her.'
Ellen glanced at him.
"What?"
Cedric shook his head.
"Nothing."
She stared at him another moment, apparently unconvinced, then turned toward the door.
"I'll get someone to check you."
Cedric nodded.
Ellen opened the door and stepped outside.
Click.
And the door closed.
Inside the bag, the creature remained completely still.
Its frustration slowly gave way to reluctant worry, but its attention remained fixed on Cedric through the narrow gap in the zipper. Whatever it understood about the strange room, it had already decided that Cedric was the safest point in it.
Cedric stared at it for several seconds.
Then he looked toward the door.
…
…
…
The monitor continued its steady rhythm.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
And only then did Cedric fully begin to realize that he was truly awake. Not dreaming. Not remembering. Awake.
For several minutes, Cedric remained alone with the machine beside him and the faint weight of the bag near the chair. The room felt different without Ellen in it.
Several minutes later, Cedric heard Ellen speaking outside the room.
"He woke up a few minutes ago."
A different woman's voice answered her.
"He's conscious?"
"Yes."
"I'll need to examine him first."
Ellen immediately replied, "I want to go in."
"Please wait outside for a moment."
There was a pause.
"Why?"
"I need to perform the initial examination without anyone else around him. He has only just regained consciousness."
"I can stay quiet."
"I don't doubt that," the nurse replied calmly. "But this is standard operating procedure."
Another pause.
Cedric could almost imagine Ellen staring at the nurse.
Eventually, she sighed.
"...Fine."
The door opened.
The observation window reflected a sliver of hallway behind her. Cedric noticed that she did not look toward it once she entered; she simply moved as though she already knew exactly what she was there to do.
The nurse entered first. The faint scent of antiseptic followed her into the room.
She wore an ordinary hospital uniform, neatly arranged, with a tablet tucked under one arm and a calm, professional expression. Nothing about her appearance demanded attention.
Ellen remained outside.
The nurse glanced toward her before closing the door.
Click.
Cedric watched her approach.
"Good morning."
"Morning."
"Can you hear me clearly?"
"Yes."
"Can you understand what I'm saying?"
"Yes."
"Do you know where you are?"
Cedric looked around.
"A hospital."
She nodded.
"Do you know your name?"
"Cedric."
There was nothing hurried about the examination. That steadiness should have been reassuring. Instead, Cedric found himself noticing the details because he had nothing else to occupy his mind.
She checked his vital signs, then began asking about dizziness, nausea, breathing, vision, and pain. Her questions came in an even rhythm, leaving just enough time between them for him to answer without feeling rushed.
She examined his pupils.
"Follow the light."
Cedric followed it.
She asked him to squeeze her fingers.
He did.
She checked the reflexes in his uninjured side and carefully inspected the cast around his right arm without disturbing the injury. Her fingers were steady enough that Cedric found himself watching them rather than her face.
"Any pain?"
"No."
"Pressure?"
"A little."
"Can you take a deep breath?"
Cedric inhaled slowly.
"It's uncomfortable."
"But possible?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Her behavior was professional.
Nothing about it seemed unusual. If anything, she was almost too careful about making sure that nothing seemed unusual.
But something about her still bothered Cedric enough to make him remember Empathy.
Cedric focused on the nurse.
Curious.
Caring.
Interested.
Watchful.
The emotions surfaced quietly, directed toward him and carefully contained beneath her professional composure.
None of them felt hostile. Yet none of them felt casual, either.
And yet Cedric found himself watching her more closely with every passing second.
There was something he could not define.
Something about the way she looked at him.
Something about the choice of her words.
The nurse adjusted his monitor, her eyes briefly following the numbers before returning to him.
"The body sometimes responds before its owner realizes that something has changed."
Cedric looked at her.
She continued.
"Some changes take time before they become obvious."
Something about the sentence lingered.
The System remained silent for several seconds.
Then:
[...I don't like her.]
Cedric's eyes moved toward the nurse.
'Why?'
[I don't know.]
A pause.
[That's what bothers me.]
Cedric watched her hands.
Steady.
Careful.
Professional.
Nothing concrete.
Still, the unease remained.
[Just stay cautious.]
Cedric lowered his eyes.
'...Yes.'
He looked at the nurse again.
'Something feels wrong.'
Cedric let the feeling sit there without trying to name it beyond what Empathy had already shown him. Suspicion was easier when it had a shape. Unease was harder to argue with.
The System did not argue.
The nurse finally finished the examination.
"Your condition is stable."
"You should continue resting for now. Don't try to get out of bed without assistance."
"Understood."
She looked toward the door.
"I'll let your visitor come back in."
She left.
Click.
Cedric let out a slow breath. Carefully, fighting the stiffness in his muscles and the awkward weight of the cast, he pushed himself up until he was sitting against the headboard.
He rested his head back against the pillow, his eyes naturally drifting toward the closed door. Given how impatient and vocal Ellen had sounded while arguing with the nurse outside just moments ago, he had half-expected the door to fly open the second the hallway was clear.
Yet the metal handle remained entirely still, accompanied only by the muted stillness of the corridor.
Ellen did not enter immediately.
She remained just outside the doorway and carefully checked the corridor in both directions. Her eyes moved from one end of the hallway to the other, and she paused long enough to listen for approaching footsteps. Her hand stayed near the door handle while she waited, as though she had learned to expect trouble even in an ordinary hospital corridor.
Only after she was satisfied that nobody was nearby did she turn back toward the room.
She glanced through the observation window once more. Only after she was satisfied that nobody was nearby did she slip inside and quietly close the door behind her.
Click.
Her eyes went straight to Cedric.
She looked at him for a second, then toward the black duffel bag beside the chair.
The bag remained completely still.
Ellen crouched beside it.
She checked the hallway through the observation window one more time before reaching for the zipper.
She opened it carefully.
"Here you go."
Ziiip.
For a moment, Ellen's hand remained on the zipper. She glanced toward the observation window one last time before opening the bag.
The moment the opening became large enough, the little creature shot out of the bag.
"Gii!"
It landed on the mattress, looked around once, and immediately spotted Cedric. For half a second it simply stared at him, as though making certain he was still there.
Then its entire body seemed to brighten.
A rush of joy and relief was written all over Gible's face, bright and uncomplicated. It was almost impossible not to smile at something that happy.
It ran across the bed as quickly as its short legs could carry it.
"Gyu!"
Cedric remained perfectly still, a rare flicker of confusion breaking his calm as the creature climbed onto his lap and wrapped both arms around his waist.
Its face pressed against his stomach as though it had been waiting for the chance to do exactly that. A soft, contented little noise escaped it, and its tiny arms tightened around him for another moment before relaxing.
Cedric froze.
He looked down at the blue creature hugging him.
Then he looked at Ellen.
She was already watching the two of them with an expression that suggested she had expected precisely this.
Cedric looked down again.
"...What are you doing?" Cedric asked, his tone perfectly flat.
The creature answered with a happy chirp.
"Gii!"
Cedric merely blinked, processing the absurdity of the situation in his usual silence.
He carefully rested his left hand against the creature's back, mostly to keep it from slipping off him.
Then he finally turned inward toward the only explanation that could possibly make sense.
'Can you finally explain what this is?'
The System answered after a brief pause.
The answer should have been obvious. Somehow, in the aftermath of everything that had happened, it was the last possibility that had occurred to him.
[You remember the egg, right?]
Cedric blinked.
His eyes moved from the creature to the memory that had been buried beneath the fog of the past few days.
The egg.
The strange egg the System had given him. The one he had kept inside the incubator and watched while waiting for something to happen.
His expression changed.
'...The egg.'
He looked at the creature again.
"So... you hatched from it," Cedric murmured.
For several seconds, Cedric simply stared.
Then something in his expression softened.
The creature looked up at him.
"Gyu?"
Cedric slowly raised his left arm and wrapped it around the creature's small body.
For the first time, he intentionally hugged it back. The gesture was awkward with the limitations of his injured body, but it was unmistakably deliberate.
The creature immediately relaxed against him, settling into his arms with a tiny, satisfied chirp. Its happiness was so obvious that Cedric did not need Empathy to understand it.
"Gibleeeeee~"
Even so, when his attention rested on it again, the skill answered immediately. Joy. Relief. Affection. Attachment. Each impression was simple, but together they carried something much larger: the certainty that Gible had chosen him.
Cedric rested his hand against its back.
"...Hello there?"
"Gii."
He looked down at the creature for another moment.
'What's its name?'
[Gible.]
'Gible?'
[That's its species name.]
Cedric repeated the word silently.
'Gible.'
And then, a list appeared one entry at a time, stark and orderly against the chaos in Cedric's head.
The System continued.
[Name: Gible]
[Species: Gible]
[Ability: Sand Veil]
[Classification: Land Shark Pokémon]
[Type: Dragon / Ground]
[Height: 0.7 m]
[Weight: 29.5 kg]
[Sex: Male]
Cedric's eyes scanned the information, his face impassive.
[Gible is a small but surprisingly dense and muscular species with powerful jaws and excellent digging ability.]
[It prefers warm environments and is naturally energetic, curious, territorial, and strongly influenced by predatory instincts.]
[It reacts strongly to sudden movement and can become especially attentive in unfamiliar situations.]
[Gible can form strong bonds with trusted companions. Once that bond is established, it can become highly loyal and affectionate.]
Cedric looked down at the creature still holding onto him.
'That explains a few things.'
The list continued.
[Learned Moves]
Seeing those two words, Cedric's attention returned to the small creature in his arms.
The word 'learned' seemed oddly formal when Gible was currently more interested in sleeping on his body.
[Twister] — Dragon-type
Gible whips up a vicious tornado and hurls it toward its target. The violent vortex can tear through the area around the target and may briefly leave them unable to respond after being caught off guard. Twister can also reach targets that have taken to the air.
[Metal Claw] — Steel-type
Gible hardens its claws with metal energy before slashing at its target. The reinforced claws allow it to strike with greater force while also giving its attacks a distinctly metallic edge.
[Sand Tomb] — Ground-type
Gible summons a violently swirling mass of sand around its target, trapping them inside the raging sandstorm. Once caught, the target remains confined within the storm, with the swirling sand making it difficult to escape.
[Thrash] — Normal-type
Gible enters a wild rampage, relentlessly attacking its target with little regard for anything else around it. Once the frenzy subsides, the exhaustion and loss of control can leave Gible disoriented and struggling to regain its composure.
Cedric stared at the moves.
'Why does it have so many moves that sound... pretty powerful?'
[Because this Gible was bred for exceptional potential.]
[Its genetic potential was exceptionally refined, allowing it to be born with one of the strongest natural repertoires a newborn Gible could possibly possess.]
[However, knowing a technique and knowing how to properly control it are two different things.]
[Its body has the potential to perform these techniques, but its ability to control their power, timing, and application is still immature.]
Cedric looked down at the small creature resting on his lap. The innocent face did not look remotely like something that could summon a tornado or bury an opponent in a living storm of sand.
'So it can use all of them already?'
[In principle.]
[In practice, its current control is limited. It will need time, experience, and training to use them consistently and effectively. Knowing a Move exists is very different from being able to shape it safely.]
[And this is only the beginning.]
[As Gible grows, it will be capable of learning additional Moves, allowing its repertoire to expand and its capabilities to become far more diverse.]
Cedric considered that for a moment.
'Then... what exactly is a Move?'
Cedric had expected the System to define a Move as little more than a special attack. The answer was more complicated than that.
[A Move is a technique a Pokémon learns and uses, particularly in battle.]
[Moves are not limited to simply attacking an opponent. Depending on the technique, they can alter the battlefield, restrict movement, defend the user, create openings, or produce other effects.]
[Each Move follows its own principles and requires the Pokémon to control a specific combination of instinct, technique, and energy.]
Cedric remained quiet for a moment.
[Pokémon Battles are a major part of the world Gible comes from. Trainers raise and train Pokémon, build relationships with them, and command them during battles. Pokémon use learned Moves to fight, defend themselves, control the battlefield, and create tactical openings.]
[Moves can deal direct damage, alter the battlefield, inflict status conditions, strengthen allies, weaken opponents, restrict movement, or create opportunities for other tactics.]
[Moves also possess Types. Type interactions affect how effective an attack is against another Pokémon. Strengths, weaknesses, and immunities can matter greatly.]
[Battle is not determined by raw strength alone. Type interactions, available Moves, timing, positioning, the battlefield, and the consequences of each decision can all affect the result.]
Cedric considered that for a moment.
'But... since this isn't that world... I mostly don't have to worry about any of that, right?'
[Correct.]
[There are no formal Gym Leaders, League regulations, tournament rankings, or standard battle procedures you need to follow simply because Gible exists here.]
[However, its Types and the principles behind its Moves remain part of its underlying nature.]
[The environment of New Eridu may introduce additional variables, including Ether and Hollows, but that does not make Type interactions irrelevant.]
He let out the smallest breath through his nose, somewhere between disbelief and resignation.
Cedric looked at the little creature again.
'...So this thing is a Pokémon.'
[Yes.]
Cedric's eyes narrowed slightly.
The realization was still absurd. The information sounded too ordinary in one context and completely impossible in another.
He had been unconscious for days, woken up in a hospital bed, and somehow the first thing he had learned after opening his eyes was that the creature clinging to him had hatched from the strange egg he had been carrying around.
He looked toward Ellen.
She had already stepped away from the bag, standing quietly over by the far window with her arms loosely crossed over her oversized hoodie. Her gaze was turned toward the sprawling cityscape outside, seemingly giving him and the creature a quiet moment to themselves.
Cedric said nothing.
Instead, he simply looked down at Gible again.
The creature looked back.
"Gyu."
CLICK!
The door suddenly flew open, swinging inward so quickly that it nearly struck the wall.
The sound shattered the quiet so completely that Cedric's attention snapped toward the door.
Wise rushed into the room with Belle close behind her, both moving with such urgency that they almost collided with the bedside chair before finally stopping the moment their eyes fell upon Cedric, who was sitting awake on the bed and looking back at them.
Wise's hand caught briefly against the doorframe before she forced herself to keep moving.
Wise froze.
For a heartbeat, she could do nothing but stare at him, as though some part of her still needed to convince itself that what she was seeing was real.
The composure she had painstakingly held together over the past few days finally cracked, and her eyes quickly filled with tears that she immediately tried to blink away.
Belle, on the other hand, broke into a bright, unmistakably relieved smile.
"Well, look at you. Awake at last."
Cedric gave them a small nod, his movements still somewhat sluggish after everything his body had been through.
"Hi."
Wise let out a shaky, jagged breath, her shoulders trembling before dropping by a fraction as she continued to look at him.
"You are... really awake."
Belle gave a quiet laugh, her smile widening as she glanced between the two of them.
"See? I told you he would wake up."
Wise quickly rubbed at the corner of one eye, clearly irritated with herself for having nearly cried in front of him, even though the sheer exhaustion and relief on her face made it obvious how much she had been holding back.
"I was worried," Wise whispered.
Belle glanced at her with an easy, reassuring smile.
"We all were."
Cedric looked between the two of them, taking in their worn expressions before lowering his gaze. Their relief was so heavy, so tangible, that an uncomfortable ache settled behind his ribs—the blunt realization of just how much his reckless gamble had hurt them.
"Sorry."
Wise's expression hardened almost instantly at the word.
"Stop apologizing," she said, her voice suddenly tightening as the fragile relief warred with raw, simmering frustration. "Don't just give us a routine 'sorry' as if this was an everyday mistake."
Cedric blinked, caught off guard by the sharp edge in her tone.
Wise took a step closer, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the guardrail of the bed.
"Do you have any idea what it felt like waiting out in that hallway? Watching the monitors spike, seeing doctors sprint past us with blood bags and defibrillators, sitting by this bed for days not knowing if the next hour was the one where everything ended?"
Her breathing was shallow, her composure fraying completely at the seams.
"Do you have any idea how careless you were back then, Cedric? You could have lost your life out there."
Belle shifted quietly, her playful smile dimming into a somber, understanding look as she let Wise speak.
"It's infuriating," Wise continued, her voice wavering dangerously between furious indignation and muffled sobs. "And it's completely unfair to everyone who cares about you."
Cedric kept his eyes fixed firmly on the blanket, unable to offer a defense. The sting of her words hit harder than any physical injury, precisely because he knew she was right.
Wise closed her eyes, forcing herself to inhale slowly through her nose to stop the trembling in her hands. When she opened them again, the harshness had drained away, leaving only pure, hollow vulnerability.
She stepped closer until she was standing flush against the mattress. Her eyes slowly traveled over Cedric's face, the cast secured around his right arm, the pallor that still lingered across his skin, and finally the hand resting on his lap.
Slowly, gently, she reached out and adjusted the blanket around his shoulders, tucking it in with meticulous care before letting her hand rest there for a quiet moment.
"I am furious with you," she murmured, her voice softening until it was barely a whisper. "I am so angry that my hands won't stop shaking. But... I am happy you are awake."
Her eyes shone again, and she quickly looked away toward the far wall before the tears could spill over.
"I just... really do not want to see you like this ever again."
Cedric lowered his eyes, his fingers shifting slightly against the fabric.
"I will try."
Wise let out another weary, quiet breath and turned back, offering him a tired smile—one that carried both lingering hurt and profound, unconditional relief.
"Good."
Belle immediately raised a finger, as though she had just remembered something important that needed to be officially addressed.
"And I would like to officially request that you stop getting critically injured."
Cedric looked at her for a moment.
"I will consider it."
Belle grinned.
"Great. He is already cooperating."
A small laugh escaped Wise despite herself, the sound breaking through some of the tension that had filled the room since she entered.
Gible had apparently decided that this was now the safest place in the building, regardless of whether anyone else agreed.
Belle then turned her attention toward Gible, who was still curled comfortably on Cedric's lap as though the hospital bed belonged to both of them.
She blinked.
"Well... you two got close pretty fast, huh?"
Cedric glanced down at the little creature resting against him.
"I… don't know. What about you, Gible?"
Belle blinked.
"You already named it?"
Cedric shook his head.
"No. That's the name of its species."
Belle's expression became slightly confused.
"Oh, okay, but how do you know that?"
The question was simple. But… the answer was not.
Cedric paused.
For a moment, he genuinely had no idea what he was supposed to say.
Then the familiar voice of the System reached him.
[Just lie. Say you learned about it when you were little.]
Cedric kept his expression neutral.
"I learned it when I was little."
Belle stared at him for a second.
"You did?"
Cedric nodded.
"Yes."
Belle remained slightly puzzled, but eventually accepted the answer with a small shrug.
Cedric said nothing more about it.
He kept the strange knowledge to himself.
"Okay... weird, but okay."
Belle was still smiling, and Cedric let the subject drop.
The conversation moved on.
Cedric looked down at Gible again.
"And this one is male."
He then looked back up at Belle. "Where is the other egg?"
Belle waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry about it. Eous is taking care of it at Random Play."
She leaned closer, looking over the little creature with growing curiosity, and for a brief moment everything in the room felt strangely peaceful, almost as though the chaos of the past few days had never happened.
"You got yourself a cute name, huh?"
For a second, she merely watched it, taking in the harmless picture of a boy and a small creature resting together. But then her gaze caught the distinct dip in the mattress beneath its body, and the memory of her own aching muscles from lugging that dense, boulder-like weight earlier suddenly clicked into place.
Her teasing smile slowly faltered, the warmth draining from her face as the math finished processing in her head.
"Wait a second..."
Her eyes darted between Gible's innocent, dozing face and Cedric's pale, fragile frame. The realization hit her like a splash of cold water.
"Wait—oh, shit."
Panic suddenly overriding her earlier composure, Belle immediately reached toward Gible with both hands.
"Get off him right now! You are ridiculously heavy!"
Gible looked up at her with a thoroughly confused expression, its fins twitching in surprise.
"Gyu?"
"Yes, you. Off."
It did not.
She expected the creature to move.
She slipped both arms beneath the small creature and tried to lift it, bracing herself for the weight she already knew was there.
Her eyebrows shot upward almost instantly.
"What the hell?"
Gible barely moved. The mattress gave a slight protesting creak beneath the combined weight of Cedric and the creature.
Belle gritted her teeth before trying again, this time putting considerably more effort into the attempt.
"Good lord, you weigh a literal ton!" Belle groaned. "How did I even carry you from the hospital parking lot up to this floor before?!"
Gible stubbornly remained exactly where it was, apparently seeing no reason whatsoever to cooperate with the person who was attempting to separate it from Cedric.
Belle finally looked toward Ellen.
"How did you even let it climb onto him?"
Ellen simply shrugged.
"It is not that heavy."
Belle slowly turned toward her, giving her a long, incredulous look.
"Do not compare yourself to normal people."
Ellen blinked.
"I am a normal girl."
Belle stared at her for another second.
"Yeah, yeah. Sure you are."
Ellen then glanced at Gible, still lying comfortably against Cedric.
"And I don't think he's having much trouble with it."
Belle slowly turned toward Cedric.
"Uhm." Cedric replied, looking down at Gible.
But at the same time, there was a question that troubled him. Something about the weight was wrong—not the weight itself, but his body's response to it.
Why was he perfectly fine with it when Belle had struggled just to carry Gible?
Because he knew he wasn't that strong to begin with, his victories over the Ethereals came down mostly to Aqua Jet's inherent power.
At best, he was only about as strong as Belle. That made the difference even harder to understand.
But before his thoughts could spiral any further, the System's familiar voice chimed in lazily.
[Well, there is actually a reason for that.]
Cedric paused inwardly, his focus shifting back to the voice in his head.
'There is? What is it?'
[Did you really forget already?] the System asked, carrying a faint trace of amused disbelief.
Cedric was just about to press for an answer, but before he could dig through his foggy memories, the System softly brushed the matter aside.
[...Actually, never mind. I'll explain it to you later. For now, just enjoy your time with your friends.]
'…Okay.'
Cedric then braced himself before moving. He expected the weight to strain his shoulder, but instead, the motion felt strangely, effortlessly easy.
Before either of them could stop him, Cedric carefully slid his uninjured arm beneath Gible and adjusted the dense creature higher on his lap with far less difficulty than Belle had expected. The movement was slow and cautious, but the ease of it was unmistakable.
Gible immediately gave a pleased little chirp.
"Gyuuuuu."
Cedric casually adjusted his grip, settling Gible into a more comfortable position before looking back at Belle.
"I'm fine."
Cedric's eyes then narrowed slightly as he looked at Belle.
He knew he wasn't that strong to begin with, which made his body's effortless reaction confusing even to himself. But seeing the look on her face brought another question to his mind: what had Belle actually felt when she saw him casually lift a weight that she had just struggled to budge?
He did not need to ask her. Empathy answered on its own when his attention settled on her.
Cedric focused on Belle.
Caring.
Distrustful.
Wary.
The three words surfaced together, and Cedric paused.
Caring made sense. Belle had just seen him wake up after days in a hospital bed, and her concern for him was genuine and obvious. But Distrustful and Wary were an entirely different matter.
Suspicion over an obscure piece of trivia was one thing, but this ran far deeper. Why was she genuinely worrying about his recovery while guarding herself against who or what he might actually be?
Had he ever sensed anything like this from her before?
Cedric searched his memories, but there was nothing. Whenever he had focused Empathy on Belle in the past, her emotions had always been open and simple—affectionate, teasing, or worried. There had never been a wall between them. There had never been this guarded, watchful edge.
Whatever had changed in her had happened while he was asleep.
Cedric's expression remained unchanged, but the contradiction left him quietly chilled. The conflicting impressions existed side by side without canceling one another out, creating an underlying tension far more disturbing than open hostility.
Belle then immediately shook her head, breaking the brief silence.
"No. Absolutely not."
She reached forward and hauled Gible away from him before he could argue any further.
The sheer, concentrated density of the creature caught her off guard all over again. Her arms strained instantly under the sudden dead weight, her knees wobbling as she had to stumble back half a step just to keep her balance.
"You just..." Belle grunted through clenched teeth, heaving the heavy blue lump awkwardly against her ribs, "...woke up! And you definitely... oof... do not need to be lifting a freaking dumbbell!"
Cedric's brow furrowed slightly.
"I can handle it," Cedric stated simply.
"I know. But I refuse to let you do that."
Belle pulled Gible into her arms and settled it against herself, making sure it was securely supported before looking down at the creature.
Gible stared back at her, its fins twitching once as though it could not understand why the person holding it was suddenly being so unreasonable.
Belle stared right back.
"There. Much better."
Gible gave an indignant little huff before deliberately turning its head away from her, its entire expression radiating wounded pride.
Belle smiled.
"Oh, come on. Do not sulk."
Gible stubbornly refused to look at her.
The exaggerated indignation was almost comical, more wounded pride than genuine anger.
Belle laughed quietly and adjusted her hold on the little creature.
"Yeah, yeah. Be mad at me."
Cedric watched the exchange in silence, his gaze moving from Belle and the sulking Gible to Wise, who was still standing beside his bed with a faint smile on her face. The noise was small, ordinary, and strangely reassuring.
For the first time since waking up, the room no longer felt like a hospital room filled with anxious whispers and lingering fear.
It felt strangely normal.
And, after everything that had happened, Cedric found that he had missed that feeling more than he realized.
SMACK!
The door burst open again.
Nicole's usual energy filled the doorway before she had even fully entered the room.
Nicole rushed through, Anby close behind, both moving with the same barely contained urgency.
Nicole stopped short when she saw Cedric sitting awake. For a second, the joke she had clearly prepared died before it reached her mouth.
"Well."
She stared for a second longer.
"Look who's finally decided to stop scaring everybody."
Cedric nodded.
"Hi."
Nicole smiled.
"That's it?"
"Yes."
She laughed.
"You really are still yourself."
She did not announce what she was checking. She simply checked it, one detail after another, then seemed satisfied that Cedric was actually breathing and conscious.
Anby stepped closer and studied him with her usual quiet focus. Her eyes briefly checked the monitor, his breathing, and the cast on his arm before returning to his face.
"You are conscious."
"Yes."
"Good."
Nicole glanced at her.
"You couldn't sound happier?"
Nicole looked back at Cedric.
"But seriously, kid."
Her expression softened for a moment.
"You really scared us."
She folded her arms, then immediately sighed.
"And do you have any idea how much Denny all those gifts and parking fees have cost me?"
Cedric blinked.
"No."
"Of course you don't."
Nicole pointed at him accusingly.
"Do you know how much it costs to keep visiting someone in a hospital? Parking isn't free, you know. Neither are all the little things we've been bringing you."
She shook her head dramatically.
"I've been bleeding Denny all week because of you."
Belle snickered.
Nicole ignored her.
"So you'd better repay me properly once you're back on your feet."
"...How much?"
Nicole's eyes lit up.
"Now that's the right question. Hehehe, we'll talk about it later."
Anby stepped closer and looked carefully at Cedric's face.
"You look better."
"Thank you."
"We were concerned."
Cedric glanced at her.
"How concerned?"
Anby tapped a finger against her chin, genuinely calculating the data in her head.
"Three hours, forty-seven minutes, and twelve seconds, to be exact. During that window, you did not mention Denny, debt collectors, or counterfeit coupons once. You even stared at an empty coffee cup without calculating the resale value."
Nicole's head snapped around so violently her ponytail nearly whipped the bedside table.
"Why on earth were you keeping a stopwatch on that?! And who authorized you to broadcast my internal panic to the entire room?!"
Anby blinked, tilting her head with complete, unblinking innocence.
"Cedric asked for a measurable indicator of concern. Your sudden lack of financial complaints was significant."
"That is classified Cunning Hares business intelligence!" Nicole hissed, pointing an accusing, trembling finger at her.
Anby stared at the shaking finger, completely unmoved.
"My salary is three weeks overdue. I don't believe I have any obligation to protect company secrets."
Anby took a slow breath, her expression remaining as flat as a sheet of paper.
"So why should I care?"
Belle slapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late.
"Pfft—"
Wise immediately looked away toward the floor, pressing both hands against her lips to maintain her composure.
"Pfft."
Cedric looked at Anby.
"I think she lost."
Anby nodded.
"Agreed."
"You! You two are plotting against me! I literally bled Denny for your hospital visits, and this is the gratitude I get? Treason right in front of my face?!"
Cedric merely blinked, his tone quiet and flat.
"It was an objective observation."
Anby nodded.
"Confirmed."
Nicole stared at the two of them in utter disbelief, her mouth hanging slightly open as if her brain was struggling to process such open defiance.
She puffed her cheeks and drew in a sharp, theatrical breath, clearly winding up for an explosive lecture on workplace loyalty and hospital etiquette.
But before she could get a single syllable out, however, a sharp rattle cut her off mid-breath.
Brrr, brrr.
A frantic, persistent vibration suddenly erupted from deep within Nicole's coat pocket, practically buzzing against the silence of the room.
Her rant died instantly in her throat. Nicole let out an annoyed click of her tongue, her hand reaching into her pocket as she muttered, "Who the hell is calling at a time like this...?"
She pulled out the device and glanced at the screen, her eyes immediately narrowing at the caller ID.
"And speak of the idiot."
She accepted the call.
Billy's face appeared immediately.
Nicole then turned the phone and held it out in front of Cedric. The screen immediately filled with motion and a violently shaking camera.
The camera was shaking so violently that Cedric could barely make out Billy's face. It took him a second to realize that Billy was not standing still at all.
"Cedric! Hello!!!"
Billy was running.
Not walking.
Not jogging.
He was running as though his life depended on it.
"STOP RUNNING!!!!"
A voice shouted somewhere behind him.
"I refuse!"
Billy rounded a corner at full speed.
"WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?!"
"Because you guys are freaking chasing me!"
He glanced back.
That was a mistake.
His foot caught the edge of something on the floor.
"Whoa—!"
Billy stumbled forward, his arms flailing violently as he somehow managed to stay upright.
For exactly three more seconds.
Then, a stray shoe came flying through the air.
WHACK!
It smacked him directly in the back of the head.
"OW!"
Rubbing the back of his metallic head, Billy instinctively glanced over his shoulder, desperate to see which idiot had actually taken off their own footwear just to throw it at him.
Yet as his gaze flicked down toward the mob of furious men in suits, his digital eyes widened in utter disbelief.
Every single one of them still had both shoes firmly on their feet. Not a single person was missing a shoe.
"Where the hell did you guys even get that from?!" Billy yelled in pure exasperation.
Belle immediately covered her mouth.
Cedric simply stared at the screen. After everything else he had seen that morning, this was somehow the least believable thing yet.
Billy kept running.
"Anyway!"
His breathing was getting heavier.
"I just wanted to call my friend!"
Nicole raised an eyebrow.
But another shout echoed through the corridor.
"YOU CLINK CLANK MOTHERF*CKER. STOP RUNNING!!!!"
Billy looked over his shoulder again.
"Oh, come on!"
He accelerated.
The camera bounced violently as he tore down another corridor.
Billy finally looked back at the screen.
"Anyway, I'm really glad you're awake, Cedric."
His voice softened despite the chaos around him. For a brief moment, the running stopped mattering; all that remained was the relief in his voice.
"We were all worried about you."
Cedric nodded.
"I know."
Billy smiled.
"Good."
He leaned a little closer to the camera, finally slowing down enough to speak without sounding completely out of breath.
"So... how are you feeling?"
"Tired."
"Yeah, figured."
Billy chuckled.
"Still, you sound better than I expected."
He paused for a moment.
"Are you eating properly? Sleeping okay?"
Cedric hesitated.
"Mostly."
"Good. That's good."
Billy gave him another relieved smile.
"I'll come visit you tomorrow, okay?"
Cedric looked at him.
"Tomorrow?"
"Yep."
He raised a finger.
"And I'm bringing you an awesome gift."
Cedric blinked.
"Why?"
"Because you just woke up, obviously!"
Billy grinned proudly.
"I'm giving you a limited-edition, autographed Starlight Knight poster! You have no idea how hard I had to fight tooth and nail to hunt that baby down just the other day. Can't show up empty-handed!"
Cedric nodded slowly.
"Thanks."
Billy's smile widened.
"Alright. Then I'll see you tomorrow."
"Take care, Cedric."
"See you."
He then raised a hand toward the camera.
"See you!"
And immediately tripped.
"Uwa—!"
The image twisted sideways, then upside down, blurring into a dizzying mix of walls, floor, and Billy's startled face as the camera tumbled through the air.
It hit the floor with a sharp clack, but the camera remained on.
For a few seconds, the screen showed nothing but the ceiling.
Then the phone shifted slightly.
The camera tilted.
And the scene came into view.
The phone lay at an angle now, leaving everyone in the hospital room with a perfect view of the disaster unfolding on the other side.
Billy was lying on the floor, surrounded by a whole group of men in suits. The moment they caught him, they swarmed over him, transforming the call from a reunion into complete chaos again.
"GRAB HIS METAL ASS!"
"HOW MANY TIMES DO WE HAVE TO TELL YOU TO STOP RUNNING?!"
"PAY US BACK, YOU BASTARD!"
"YOU'VE BEEN RUNNING FROM YOUR DEBT FOR DAYS!"
"WHERE'S OUR MONEY?!"
"PAY WHAT YOU OWE US!"
Several of them kicked him in quick succession, forcing him to curl up and cover his head with both arms as more feet crowded around him.
"OW! STOP!"
"I TOLD YOU, I'M WORKING ON IT!"
"WORKING ON IT?!"
"YOU'VE BEEN SAYING THAT FOR WEEKS!"
"THEN GIVE US OUR MONEY!"
"I DON'T HAVE IT YET!"
"LIAR!"
Billy blinked.
"Wait! Why are you guys even chasing me for?! I'm not even the one who borrowed the money, it's my boss!!!"
Silence.
Billy looked from one furious face to another.
"...Hello?"
Nobody answered.
Billy stared at them in disbelief.
"Why is nobody answering me?!"
Another kick sent Billy scrambling sideways across the floor.
"PAY YOUR DEBT!"
"I'M REALLY TRYING!!!!!"
The shouting continued as the men kept stomping around him, their anger completely drowning out Billy's desperate pleas.
"SOMEBODY HELP ME!"
The only sound for several seconds was the quiet hum of the hospital equipment.
Back in the hospital room, nobody said a word. The contrast was so absurd that for a moment the silence itself seemed to become part of the joke.
Belle's smile had completely disappeared.
Wise stared at the screen in stunned silence.
Cedric simply blinked.
Nicole stared blankly at the phone for several seconds.
The footage continued.
"I'LL POUND YOU SO HARD THAT YOU CAN'T EVEN CRAWL ANYMORE!"
"Yo, dude."
"What?!"
"That sounded… kinda gay, you know? And who the fuck even uses 'pound' these days."
"..."
"SHUT UP AND KEEP STOMPING HIM!!!"
Billy let out another desperate cry.
"PLEASE HELP ME!!!!"
Nicole quietly reached over.
Click.
The call ended.
She lowered the phone.
Nobody spoke.
Finally, Nicole sighed.
"...Let's pretend that never happened."
Belle stared at the blank screen for a moment.
"So... Billy's fine, right?"
Nicole shrugged.
"He'll be fine."
Belle paused, looking between the dark phone screen and Nicole with genuine bewilderment.
"Wait, but... why didn't he fight back? He has his guns, and he's easily strong enough to knock those guys flat."
"Running away is one thing," Nicole said, waving a hand dismissively. "If he can outrun them, great. But once he's pinned down like that, if he tries to force his way out or throw hands, somebody is inevitably going to end up in the ER."
Nicole's eyes narrowed into a gaze of cold, terrifying conviction.
"And do you know what that means? It means more medical bills added straight to my tab. And Billy knows damn well he's dead metal if he costs me a single Denny more, so he knows better than to lift a finger."
She crossed her arms and leaned back into her chair, entirely unbothered by the violence they had just witnessed.
"Besides, he's kinda tough. What's a few kicks to a reinforced metal chassis? It barely scratches the paint. He'll just wait until those idiots tire themselves out from stomping on him, and then he'll bolt the second they lose their breath."
Belle stared at her, completely speechless at Nicole's logic.
"...I-Is... is that so."
Anby nodded calmly.
"Most likely."
That was apparently enough for everyone.
The conversation moved on almost immediately, because there was apparently no productive way to process what they had just witnessed.
Belle turned back toward Cedric.
"So, once the doctors let you eat normally, what do you want?"
Cedric blinked.
"I don't know."
"That's useless. You have to pick something."
"I'll eat whatever is available."
Belle looked offended.
"That's not an answer."
Nicole leaned back in her chair.
"Just let him rest, Belle."
"But he's been asleep for days. He has to be hungry."
"He's awake, not starving."
Wise quietly adjusted the blanket around Cedric's shoulders.
"You should probably start with something light."
Ellen's attention shifted once toward Gible, then back to the window. Her expression did not change, but the creature's relaxed breathing seemed to satisfy her.
Ellen remained near the window, occasionally glancing back at Cedric while pretending to pay attention to the city outside. Her posture suggested indifference, but she had not once stopped keeping track of the room.
In the brief moment Belle wasn't paying attention, Gible had taken the opportunity to scramble back onto the bed. It was pressed comfortably against Cedric's side, although it no longer climbed onto his lap, for fear of being pulled away again.
Cedric rested one hand on its head.
The little creature relaxed immediately.
Gible looked completely safe there, warm, sleepy, and perfectly content to remain at his side. The steady weight was no longer uncomfortable. Somehow, he was already beginning to associate it with the feeling that he was not alone.
Wise noticed.
"So it really trusts you."
Cedric nodded.
"I think so."
Belle smiled, turning her playful gaze away from Cedric and settling it directly on Ellen.
"Well then, it looks like you did a great job taking care of your new pet, Ellen."
Ellen immediately shot her a dark, flat look from the window.
"It's not mine. And taking care of it is exactly what I'm trying to avoid by bringing it back here."
Belle laughed, entirely unfazed.
"Oh, please. You already care about the little guy and you know it."
"I don't."
"You carried it around for days."
"I had paperwork."
"You fed it."
"It needed food."
"You let it sleep in your room."
Ellen's tail stiffened slightly.
"How do you know?"
Belle grinned.
"It's a secret."
Ellen then turned away.
Cedric watched the exchange quietly.
It was not the same as being home. It was not even close. But it was warm in a way the room had not been before.
For the first time since waking, the room felt almost normal.
People talked over one another.
Belle kept arguing about food.
Nicole complained about the hospital cafeteria.
Wise kept asking whether Cedric needed anything.
Ellen continued pretending she wasn't listening.
Gible remained curled against Cedric's side, its body warm and heavy beneath his hand. Every few seconds, it gave a tiny sleepy chirp whenever his fingers brushed over its head.
The monitor kept beeping steadily in the background.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Outside, the sounds of New Eridu continued to filter faintly through the window: distant traffic, voices from the street, and the muted hum of a city that had never stopped moving just because one person had been unconscious.
Cedric rested his head against the pillow and listened to them all.
He didn't need to say anything.
He just stayed there, letting the conversation continue around him.
He had never liked not knowing what people felt. Now that he had the ability to know a little, he discovered that certainty came with its own discomfort.
Cedric let his gaze drift from Wise's relief to Nicole's concern, Anby's quiet attentiveness, and Ellen's guarded worry. Belle was cheerful again, yet the uncertainty he had sensed earlier remained in the back of his mind.
He wondered what each of them was actually feeling beneath the words they were saying. That question was precisely why the strange skill in his head felt less like a power and more like a new sense he had not yet learned to live with.
Cedric focused on Wise first.
Relieved.
Worried.
Caring.
The connection faded, and Cedric shifted his attention to Nicole.
Concerned.
Protective.
Caring.
Then Anby.
Concerned.
Attentive.
Then Ellen.
Relieved.
Worried.
Caring.
Seeing those emotions eased something inside Cedric.
For once, waking up did not mean waking up alone.
At least in that moment, he knew the people around him were genuinely concerned for him. The weight he had been carrying since waking felt a little lighter, and for the first time since opening his eyes, he felt somewhat reassured.
The realization was quieter than gratitude and simpler than happiness, but it settled somewhere deep inside him all the same.
But his thoughts still returned to Belle.
Caring, Distrustful, and Wary.
He still could not make sense of how such deeply conflicting feelings could coexist within the same person, especially when that guarded distrust was aimed squarely at him.
Whatever had changed in her had happened while he was lying unconscious in this bed.
He could have asked. He could have gently probed to find out what was truly haunting her mind.
Instead, Cedric decided to keep what Empathy had revealed strictly to himself.
Whatever had put Belle so heavily on guard, he would rather wait and see than make her aware that he had already noticed.
…
…
…
Several hours later, the hospital had become quiet again.
The nurse who had examined Cedric earlier walked away from the main ward and into a restricted service corridor, leaving behind the brighter patient areas and entering a part of the building where the overhead lights were dimmer and the polished floor reflected long pale strips across the walls.
The ordinary sounds of the ward faded behind her one layer at a time until only the faint hum of ventilation remained.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
She stopped at an empty intersection.
She looked down one corridor.
Then the other.
No one.
Her movements were calm, practiced, and completely out of place in the empty corridor.
She took out her phone and made a call.
"He is awake."
She listened.
"Good. Keep his treatment unchanged. His condition is stable."
While she continued speaking, her right hand rose to her left ear. A small gold stud was fastened to the earlobe.
She twisted the backing loose.
Click.
The earring came free.
She placed it carefully on the narrow ledge beside the wall.
"His awareness appears intact. There is no reason to alter the current arrangement."
She moved to her other ear.
The second gold stud came free in the same manner.
Click.
It joined the first.
"His condition is no longer our concern. What matters now is what happens around him."
She listened.
"His 'friends' are watching him closely."
Her fingers moved to the collar of her uniform, slipping beneath the fabric to trace the line of her throat.
There, adhering seamlessly to her skin, was a flat, semi-translucent dermal patch—a micro-vocal modulator.
She peeled it off with a sharp rip. Her breathing instantly sounded different, the artificial warmth in her respiratory rhythm completely gone.
"Keep them under observation." Her voice, stripped of the modulator, was no longer the generic, comforting alto of a nurse. It dropped into a smoother, colder, and far more aristocratic cadence.
She listened for several seconds.
"I did not interfere. There was no need."
Her hand moved toward her jawline. Her fingers pressed against a specific point just below her earlobe, finding the microscopic seam.
With a practiced pinch, she caught the edge of the ultra-thin, synthetic micro-silicone prosthetic that had subtly widened her jaw and softened her cheekbones, rendering her facial structure forgettably average.
She peeled it away in one swift, agonizingly smooth motion, folding the transparent membrane into her palm.
"Do not approach them unless necessary."
Her other hand reached down to the identification badge clipped to the front of her uniform.
The plastic card came free.
Click.
She set it beside the other objects.
"I want to know the moment they do anything unusual."
She listened.
"Keep the observation in place for now."
A brief silence followed.
"Yes. Proceed exactly as instructed."
The call ended.
She lowered the phone.
She turned a small metal case once in her hand before opening it, almost as though beginning the final stage of a ritual.
Then she reached into her pocket and produced a sterile contact-lens case. And opened it.
Two tiny compartments waited inside.
Then she touched the corner of her right eye.
Slowly, carefully, she removed the biometric contact lens—a piece of technology designed not just to alter iris pigmentation, but to scramble retinal scanners.
Plip.
She placed it inside the first compartment.
Then she removed the second.
Plip.
It went into the other.
She closed the case.
The artificial, dull brown color was gone.
Her natural green eyes, touched by a subtle golden hue beneath the dim corridor lights, were finally revealed.
She stood in the dim corridor, the transformation nearly complete.
Then her fingers reached behind her neck.
A small fastening hidden beneath her hair had been keeping part of it in its carefully arranged, artificially shortened position.
She released it.
The mechanism came loose.
Her long dark-brown hair, almost black beneath the corridor lights, fell naturally over her shoulders in heavy waves.
Her side-swept fringe settled across her forehead.
The disguise had not merely changed how she looked. It had changed what other people were allowed to notice.
The woman standing in the corridor no longer looked like the ordinary hospital nurse who had entered Cedric's room earlier.
Instead, she was a beautiful woman with long dark-brown hair falling naturally over her shoulders, a side-swept fringe framing her delicate yet sharp features, and a slender, graceful figure.
Her pale complexion contrasted with her vivid green eyes, each touched by a subtle golden hue beneath the dim corridor lights.
Without the nurse's uniform and carefully maintained disguise, her natural beauty was impossible to conceal.
Her face was calm and self-possessed.
Her posture was relaxed, yet coiled with a hidden lethality.
Her eyes revealed none of the deliberate ordinariness she had carried while performing her role inside the ward. There was no fatigue in them now, no professional warmth, and no trace of the harmless nurse Cedric had spoken to earlier.
She looked down at everything she had removed.
Two gold earrings.
A micro-vocal modulator.
Synthetic facial prosthetics.
A hospital identification badge.
A small case containing two biometric contact lenses.
Nothing remained on her that belonged to the appearance she had worn inside Cedric's room.
She gathered the objects with clinical efficiency.
Click.
And closed the case.
The corridor was empty again.
For several seconds, she remained alone beneath the dim hospital lights.
Then a faint smile touched her lips. It was the expression of someone who had discovered something unexpectedly interesting.
"Still, how did he realize something was off about me?"
She glanced back toward the hospital room.
"Hmm... fascinating."
Then she turned away.
Her footsteps echoed softly through the empty corridor.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.