The ceiling was white.
Aurelion stared at it, his mind slow, his body heavy. The beeping of machines filled the silence. The smell of antiseptic burned his nostrils. He was in a hospital bed.
Again.
He groaned.
"Not again," he muttered, his voice hoarse.
He tried to move. His body screamed. He tried to speak properly. His throat was dry as sand.
He lay there, staring at the ceiling, and took stock. Ribs? Cracked. Shoulder? Wrenched. Chest? Covered in bandages. His entire body felt like it had been put through a grinder and reassembled by someone who didn't have the instructions.
He flexed his fingers experimentally. They worked. He wiggled his toes. They worked too.
Well, he thought, at least I didn't break any swords this time.
The thought almost made him smile.
Almost.
He remembered the battle. The transformation. Vorthar's head rolling across the charred earth. The soldiers cheering. The darkness swallowing him.
He had killed Vorthar.
He had survived.
But something was wrong.
The room was too quiet. The machines beeped, but there were no voices. No footsteps. No nurses rushing in to check on him. He was alone.
He turned his head—slowly, painfully—and looked at the door.
It was closed.
And there was a guard outside.
Not a medic. A soldier. Armed. Watching.
Aurelion's blood went cold.
His moment of levity evaporated.
Not again, he thought. Not this time.
The door opened an hour later.
Commander Reyes walked in, her armor replaced by a crisp uniform. Her face was tired, but her eyes were sharp. She looked at him for a long moment before speaking.
"You're awake."
"I'm awake."
"Good."
She sat down in the chair beside his bed. Her posture was stiff, her hands clasped in her lap. She was not relaxed. She was not comfortable.
Aurelion watched her. "What's wrong?"
She was silent for a moment. Then: "You saved the city. You killed Vorthar. You're a hero."
"But?"
"But there are questions." She met his eyes. "Questions about what you are. What you became. What you're capable of."
Aurelion said nothing.
"Military intelligence has been debriefing the soldiers who saw you fight. They described wings. Horns. Claws. Armor that grew from your skin." She paused. "They described a demon."
"I'm not a demon."
"I know that. But others aren't so sure."
"Rumors?"
"Rumors." She nodded slowly. "Rumors that you're the Demon King reborn. That you've been playing us all along. That saving the city was just a way to earn our trust before you turned on us."
Aurelion closed his eyes.
"I killed Vorthar."
"I know."
"I saved your city."
"I know."
"Does that count for nothing?"
She was silent for a long moment. Then: "It counts for a lot. But not everyone sees it that way." She stood. "You've been cleared for release. But I need to warn you—not everyone in this city is on your side. Some of them are afraid. Some of them are angry. And some of them are looking for a reason to turn against you."
Aurelion opened his eyes.
"Then let them try."
He was released that afternoon.
The streets were the same—the same buildings, the same faces, the same war-torn city. But the looks were different. The soldiers he passed didn't meet his eyes. The civilians shied away from him. The whispers followed him wherever he went.
"That's him."
"The one who killed Vorthar."
"Did you see what he became?"
"They say he turned into a demon."
"A demon fighting demons. What does that make him?"
Aurelion walked through it all, his face expressionless, his heart heavy.
This is what I've become, he thought. A hero they fear.
A monster they tolerate.
I killed Vorthar. I saved their city. And now they're afraid of me.
He found a bar at the edge of the city—a small, dimly lit place with a tired-looking bartender and a handful of patrons who didn't look up when he walked in.
He sat in the corner, nursing a drink, and thought.
Reyes warned me. She said not everyone is on my side.
But I didn't realize it would be like this.
I didn't realize I'd be alone.
He touched his chest, feeling the shards inside him. They pulsed, warm and steady.
I need to find them, he thought. I need to find Valley's Watch.
I need to find Ami. Corrin. Kael.
I need to find the people who aren't afraid of me.
He finished his drink and stood.
He had a mission now.
He had a purpose.
And he wasn't going to stop until he found them.
Reyes was waiting for him at the command center.
"Kade. I have news."
He stopped. "What news?"
"Your party. Valley's Watch. We've received reports from overseas. A hunter party matching their description has been seen escorting refugees through demon-controlled territory."
Aurelion's heart pounded. "Where?"
"The Eurospan. Near the coast. They're heading west."
"Toward me?"
"Toward the sea. They're trying to find a way across."
He stared at her. "They're looking for me."
"Looks like it."
"I need to go."
"I know." She met his eyes. "That's why I'm giving you this."
She handed him a datapad. On it was a map, marked with travel routes, safe zones, and demon concentrations.
"This is the best intel we have. Use it wisely."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Just find them." She paused. "And when you do—tell them I said hello."