The hospital room smelled of antiseptic and something floral—a weak attempt to mask the sterility. The curtains were drawn, the lights dimmed, and the only sound was the steady beep of the monitors beside the bed.
Aurelion sat in the chair he had claimed three days ago and refused to leave. His coat was draped over the back. Gatekeeper leaned against the wall, its crimson veins pulsing faintly in the dim light.
Ami lay in the bed, her arm still in a sling, her face pale but her eyes open. She had woken up properly two days ago. The doctors said she would make a full recovery. The bruising on her throat had faded to a sickly yellow. The cuts on her head had been stitched.
She looked at him.
"You're still here."
"I'm still here."
"You haven't left for three days."
"I left for food."
"That doesn't count."
A nurse entered, "Visiting hours are ove-"
"They don't apply to me" he shot back, shooting her a look.
The nurse gave a sheepish smile and backed out of the room.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, turning back to Ami
"Like I got thrown through a wall by an ancient demon." She shifted in the bed, wincing. "Which, technically, I did."
"The doctors said—"
"The doctors said I'll be fine. I'll be up and moving in a week." She met his eyes. "In time for whatever comes next."
He didn't argue. He knew better.
Ami studied him for a moment. "You look worse than I feel."
"I'm fine."
"You're not. You're sitting there like you're waiting for me to die."
"I'm sitting here because I don't have anywhere else to be."
She was quiet for a moment.
"It's funny," he said, his voice low. "You used to be the one constantly on my case about getting into danger. About throwing myself into fights I couldn't win. About taking too many risks."
Ami blinked. "And?"
He looked at her. The pale skin. The bandages. The fading bruises on her throat.
"And now you're the one in the hospital bed."
She stared at him. Her jaw tightened.
"That's not fair."
"I'm not trying to be fair."
"I'm not the one who got thrown through a wall because I wanted to fight an ancient demon. I got thrown through a wall because I wanted to find one. To stop him. To make sure he couldn't hurt anyone else."
"And how did that work out?"
She flinched. Not from pain—from the weight of his words.
They sat in silence for a long moment.
"I'm not blaming you," he said finally. "I'm just... I'm tired of watching the people I care about get hurt because of who I am."
"Who you are?"
He shrugged, not knowing the answer.
She reached out—slowly, carefully—and took his hand. Her fingers were cold.
"Then stop trying to be a hero," she said. "Start being a person. The person who sat in the hospital for three days because he didn't want to leave my side."
He looked at their hands.
"I'm not a hero."
"Neither am I." She smiled. "But I'm a survivor. And so are you."
The door opened.
Aurelion tensed, expecting a nurse—but it wasn't a nurse.
Valeris stepped into the room.
She looked different than when he had last seen her. Softer, in some ways. More worn. Her sharp eyes still missed nothing, but there was a weight to her presence now that hadn't been there before. She had been through the war too.
"Aurelion," she said. "Ami. I'm glad to see you're awake."
Ami raised an eyebrow. "Valeris. I thought you were in Central Command."
"I was. I'm here now." She walked to the foot of the bed, her hands clasped behind her back. "There's something you need to know. Both of you."
Aurelion stood. "What is it?"
"A structure has been discovered. In the Atlantic. Deep beneath the surface." Valeris's voice was flat, controlled—but there was something beneath it. Something like awe. "Sonar readings suggest it's a city. Old. Older than anything we've ever found."
"A city?"
"Massive. Preserved. And your sword—" She glanced at Gatekeeper. "—it's been reacting to the data. The shards in it are pulsing every time we analyze the sonar images."
Aurelion felt the blade's warmth against his back. It was pulsing now, in rhythm with his heartbeat.
"Reactive to what?" he asked.
Valeris met his eyes. "We don't know. That's why we're sending an expedition. And you're on it."
Ami sat up straighter. "What about me?"
Valeris looked at her—at the sling, the bandages, the pale skin.
"You're not cleared."
"I don't care."
"Your arm—"
"I'll have it off by the time we deploy."
Valeris studied her for a long moment. Then, slowly, she nodded.
"You're as stubborn as he is." She glanced at Aurelion. "It's almost like you're made for each other."
Aurelion's expression didn't change. "It's almost like you know everything, Valeris. How do you always know?"
She smiled—a rare thing.
"I have my own ways." Her eyes moved to Ami, and her smile softened. "Though I have to admit, seeing you in the hospital bed is a surprise. Given Aurelion's history, I always assumed it would be the other way around."
Ami laughed—a weak, breathy sound. "I guess we both have our moments."
Valeris nodded. "Indeed."
She turned to leave, then paused at the door.
"The expedition deploys in three days. Central Command is assembling a team of Ascendants and Exalted. You'll be briefed fully on the platform before descent." She looked at Aurelion. "And Aurelion—bring the sword. Whatever's down there, it's been waiting for you."
She left.
The door closed behind her.
Ami broke the silence.
"She's always like that?"
"Yes."
"It's exhausting."
"Yes."
She looked at him. "You really have no idea what's down there?"
He touched Gatekeeper's hilt. The blade pulsed.
"I have some idea."
"Like what?"
He was quiet for a moment. Then: "Every time I think I understand what I am, something new appears. The shards. The gate. The ancient ones who keep recognizing me." He met her eyes. "Now there's a city under the ocean that shouldn't exist, and my sword won't stop pulsing. I think it's connected."
"Connected to what?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. But I'm going to find out."
She nodded slowly. "Three days."
"Three days."
"I'll be ready."
"I know."
The next morning, Aurelion stood on the balcony of his room.
The city was awake. Hunters moved through the streets. Convoys rolled toward the gates. The turrets hummed.
Ami had been discharged. Against medical advice. She was already at the briefing room, probably arguing with the officials about her arm.
He looked at Gatekeeper. The blade pulsed once, then settled.
The ocean, he thought. The city. The shards.
The truth.
He strapped the blade to his back and walked toward the briefing room.
The expedition was coming.