A few days later.
"Don't worry. He'll wake up soon."
Xalier stood in the doorway of Temorsth's room, arms crossed as he watched Elah from across the threshold. He hadn't stepped inside. Whether that was out of respect for her or guilt for himself, no one could have said which.
Elah didn't look up. She sat at the bedside, one hand resting against Temorsth's cheek, her fingers tracing nothing in particular.
"We just came back," she said quietly. "And now..."
Xalier didn't answer.
"I have to go." His voice was flat, stripped of everything unnecessary. "I told them I'd arrive today."
"Then go." The words came out sharper than she likely intended.
Xalier's expression shifted — not hurt, exactly, but something close to it.
'Why did I give it to him right away?'
The thought moved behind Xalier's eyes and disappeared.
"Elah—"
"Don't."
Silence.
He let it sit for a moment, then exhaled.
"We told enough people where we were going that most of them believe we went after the treasure that appeared in the highlands. That buys us some cover." He paused. "But I already received word from one of my trusted people. The old man's influence has grown. More than I'd like."
Elah's hand stilled against Temorsth's face.
She was in a similar situation.
"When I leave, wait a few days before you go as well. The longer we move separately, the less suspicion we draw." His voice lowered. "My love... you need to go back too. We've been away for too long."
A long pause followed.
"...I know."
It wasn't forgiveness. It wasn't agreement. It was simply the truth, and they both knew it.
Xalier left first.
A few days later, Elah followed.
And Temorsth slept on, alone in the quiet of the house, while time passed around him like water.
...
The voice stops.
The story halts.
And the dark comes.
Dark.
Black all around.
A dark world—
No.
A blue world drowned in black scales.
A slithering shadow moves through it.
Calling it a mountain would be an insult to its size.
Calling it a beast would be an insult.
Not a simple monster.
It is a Great Monster.
A young creature.
He can't be a human or a monster.
He is only a creature of flesh and blood.
The shadow moves.
But the young creature can only see the blue — everywhere, in every direction, deep and endless. The kind of endless color that has no name for itself, because nothing has ever existed long enough to name it.
In that depth, the young creature floats.
The story and the Great Monster are his only company.
He has existed here long enough that the silence, the slithering, has started to feel less like emptiness and more like something waiting.
Then the voice comes again.
"What is it..."
Low.
Husky.
Reverberating through everything.
Deep enough that it does not merely reach the ears. It presses against the chest, pushes behind the eyes, and rattles somewhere behind the teeth.
"Are you... giving up?"
The young creature coughs.
He looks down at his palm.
Red.
Strange, he thinks distantly, that he can see red here when everything else is blue.
"You are the copy of life," the voice says again, louder this time. "A mockery of its freedom."
"Ogh—"
The sound alone shakes him.
Not with fear.
With something too large to hold, the way a bell rings and the air around it has no choice but to move.
The young creature tilts his head back.
Above him — if there is an above — pale things drift slowly, shapelessly, sometimes crossing over the dull glow that hangs somewhere far away like a light someone left on and forgot.
He opens his eyes.
Darkness.
He closes them.
His blue world returns.
So he keeps them closed, as he always has.
"Now tell me."
The voice cracks through the blue like something breaking open, and the young creature coughs harder, his body curling around the sound.
Then the voice comes again.
Quieter.
Lower.
Almost patient.
"Will you become a beast that feeds on destruction..."
The shapes drift overhead.
"...or will you make them lament your unholy birth?"
Silence settles after the last word like snow.
The young creature's mouth is wet with red. His voice, when it finally comes, is barely a sound at all — thin as a thread pulled too tight, fraying at the edges, but still holding.
"...Story."
A pause.
"I see. Good, then..."
The Great Monster's voice moves through the blue, and for a moment, everything stills.
Then it spills into a story.
"The boy wakes up from the dream of the universe."
The shapes keep drifting.
The blue keeps going.
And the young creature listens like before, eyes closed, as the story of someone he does not yet remember continues.
...
Temorsth woke up.
"Ugh..."
He stared at the ceiling.
The ceiling stared back.
Neither of them moved for a long moment.
"...My whole body hurts."
He tried lifting an arm. It moved, but it filed a formal complaint about it.
"How long was I out? It felt like complete chaos in there."
[The Host has been asleep for three weeks.]
Aidana's voice arrived with the practiced calm of someone who had been waiting and had decided not to make a point of it.
Temorsth pulled up the System.
A wall of notifications greeted him, stacked so deep he had to scroll just to see where they started.
"Why are there so many...?"
He scrolled through them quickly, skimming. Most of them were variations of the same theme — things getting stronger, limits being pushed, the body surviving things it probably shouldn't have.
He moved past those without stopping.
[Notice: The Host's will has been greatly strengthened after enduring rapid and extreme changes.]
[Notice: The Host's body has been strengthened through prolonged exposure to deep-sea pressure.]
[Notice: The Host's soul volume has increased after thousands of near-death experiences.]
"Don't care, don't care, don't care—" He kept scrolling. "Oh."
He stopped.
[Notice: New Title acquired — 'Experienced the Singularity'.]
[Congratulations: The Host has gained significantly improved control over the dual energies of Light and Dark.]
[Notice: The current balance between both energies will hold for the next 7 to 13 years. After that period, the seal will begin to fail unless reinforced.]
[Congratulations: The Host's body has been sufficiently strengthened to begin gathering energy — Mana, Qi, or otherwise.]
[Notice: The Host's Dantian can now be shaped.]
[Notice: The Host's Mana Core can now be formed.]
[Notice: The Host's Vampire Core can be formed upon consuming blood.]
Temorsth read through them twice.
Then he let out a slow breath and stared at the ceiling again.
"...I will survive a bit longer, and I actually got stronger too."
He hadn't been sure. During those three weeks of the body's unconsciousness, inside the Inner World, a lot had happened. But it felt less like growth and more like being fed through a grinder and told to be grateful about it.
Still, the numbers didn't lie.
'Status. Stats only.'
[STRENGTH: 14 (+25)]
[CONSTITUTION / VITALITY: 12 (+25)]
[DEXTERITY / AGILITY: 13 (+25)]
[INTELLIGENCE: 16 (+25)]
[WILL / MIND: 26 (+35)]
[WISDOM: 21 (+30)]
He stared at the bonuses.
'...With those added on, I'm stronger than my weakened old self.'
A strange feeling settled in his chest. Not pride, exactly — more like the specific satisfaction of a debt being partially repaid.
'But why are the bonuses so high? Aidana, the bonuses come from Titles and equipped items, right? So...'
He paused.
'Oh. Right. The new one.'
'Titles.'
[Name: Experienced the Singularity (Degraded)]
[Rank: True Immortal (Degraded)]
[Rarity: Ancient]
[Effect: +25 to all stats.]
[Description: Granted only to one who has fully absorbed the energy, knowledge, and meaning contained within the Waters of Singularity — or one who has experienced True Singularity itself.]
Temorsth read it once.
Then read it again.
'It gives more to my stats than my base strength does. And it's degraded.'
[There was not enough water to fully unlock the Title. Even so... I will admit, I'm genuinely astonished. I have never once heard of a mortal comprehending something at the True Immortal rank. Not even partially.]
'Maybe it was luck.'
[...]
'Anyway.'
He stretched his fingers, listening to the soft pops.
'Seven more years minimum. I'll take it.'
He did the math quietly.
He was a little older than five now. That put him at around thirteen before the seal became a real problem again.
Thirteen was something.
Thirteen was workable.
He'd figure out the rest before then.
For now — what he didn't know.
'Aidana, what is a Vampire Core? What actually happens if I form one?'
[The Vampire Core is the defining characteristic of the vampire race. Without it, regardless of blood, the Host is not a vampire in any meaningful sense.]
[For those not born as pureblood vampires, the choice to form one is entirely their own. This is also true for those who have been turned — though the one who turned them holds the ability to force the formation against their will.]
[Should the Host choose not to form it, the vampiric bloodline does not disappear entirely. The Host would instead become a member of a vampire-mixed race, retaining minor traits — a slightly extended lifespan, lighter skin, and marginally better vision in the dark — while losing access to most vampiric abilities. Kind of like the current state.]
[Should the Host choose to form the Vampire Core by consuming blood, all vampiric strengths become available. As do all vampiric weaknesses.]
[The Host's classification would also change — from Humanoid Creature to Humanoid Monster.]
Temorsth considered this for a moment.
'If I form it, do I stay an elf?'
[Yes. The Host's half-breed status does not change. The Host would be classified as a Vampire-Light Elf. Without it, the Host would be a Light Elf with vampire lineage.]
"...That's actually fine."
He hadn't been worried about the monster classification. What he'd been worried about was losing the other half.
'FINALLY. We're drinking blood!? Real stuff! Finally, some real stuff!'
Feral's enthusiasm arrived like a door being kicked off its hinges.
Temorsth ignored the surge of excitement with the calm of someone who had long since made peace with the fact that one of the voices in his head was like this.
"I'll use my own blood if I can," he muttered, already thinking ahead.
He pushed himself upright — and immediately received a second wall of text, this time from the System.
[Warning: All vampiric weaknesses will apply to the Host at the Host's current strength and Realm. No exceptions.]
Temorsth stopped.
'...Aidana. If I become a vampire, will I burn in sunlight?'
[Yes.]
'Will I be repelled by garlic?'
[Yes.]
'Am I going to be stuck to a coffin or something?'
[Yes.]
He sat with that for a second.
"...But why...?"
He thought about his father. Specifically, he thought about the number of times Xalier had trained with him outside in the middle of the afternoon, napped in the garden afterward with the sun on his face, and complained only that the garlic in last night's dinner had been too soft.
'Wait. My dad goes out in the sun. He eats garlic. He doesn't sleep in a coffin as far as I know.'
'Aidana... are you lying?'
[...Really.]
The irritation in Aidana's voice was precise and specific.
'Then what's the difference? Why can he—'
[The comparison is not appropriate.] She cut in just a little too quickly. [The Host's father exists at the World Source Realm—]
A beat of silence followed as Aidana went very quiet.
Temorsth's eyes narrowed.
'...Aidana. What is the World Source Realm?'
[Warning: The Host's current ER is insufficient to access this information.]
The System warned.
Temorsth squinted harder.
'Aidana.'
A small sweating emoji appeared in the corner of the light blue window.
'In the Hall of Bones, you told me there were only six realms...'
He let the silence breathe for a moment.
'Look. I don't actually care that you're not telling me everything. If you're helping me and you're not trying to hurt my family or me, then I can work with that.'
A pause.
'But you slipped now, so just tell me why.'
Aidana was quiet for a moment longer than usual.
[There is something called the Law of Plausibility. It governs all worlds. When information exists too far above the comprehension level of the one receiving it, the world itself intervenes. So please don't ask more.]
'So the world would punish me for something you said?'
[Yes.]
'That seems like the world's problem, not mine.'
[Be that as it may.]
Temorsth leaned back against the headboard and stared at the ceiling again.
"Hm."
He wanted to ask why he didn't feel any punishment, but he didn't push further.
It wasn't worth it right now.
He had seven years, a body that had just survived being fed through a cosmic grinder, and powers waiting to be formed.
One mystery at a time.
'Aidana, my dad still sunbathes and eats garlic. So what actually changes at higher Realms that—'
While Temorsth spoke to her, Aidana said nothing for ten full seconds.
The punishments for revealing a higher realm, and even the Law of Plausibility itself, descended.
She received both of their punishments quietly.
As such, Temorsth didn't notice.
He was already talking again, curiosity pulling him in three directions at once, the way it always did, and she was glad for that.
She didn't want him to notice.
What she had done wasn't permitted.
Not for something like her.
The laws that governed did not bend for sentiment. They did not care that he was five, human, monster, or something else entirely. They did not care that the mistake had been hers, or that letting the punishment fall on him would have been simply wrong.
So she took it.
Both halves.
It wasn't complicated. He hadn't asked her to, and she hadn't thought about it long enough to call it a decision.
It was simply the only thing that made sense for her to do.
Someone would notice eventually.
That was the part she didn't let herself think about for too long.
For now, he was talking and alive, asking questions about garlic of all things.
She would deal with the rest when it came.