Chapter 73: Just A Little Nap

  A soft hum filled the void.

  Marcus floated in a space that wasn’t quite real, yet it felt more solid than any battlefield he had ever stood upon. Around him, the air shimmered, forming intricate patterns of glowing glyphs and shifting data streams, stretching infinitely in all directions. They moved like living things—pulsing, reforming, breaking apart, then rebuilding in an endless cycle.

  He recognized some of the symbols—vague remnants of the System’s interface, familiar yet different. The rest? Alien, ancient, unreadable.

  And then, in the center of it all, a figure stood.

  A faceless humanoid, its entire form composed of swirling, cascading digital code, carefully reconstructing fractured constructs around them. The being’s hands moved with precise efficiency, repairing invisible cracks, stabilizing chaotic fluctuations, its motions as fluid as a master sculptor at work.

  Marcus took a step forward. The moment his foot touched the shifting plane, the figure stopped.

  It turned.

  A voice—familiar yet distant—spoke.

  "Finally awake?"

  Marcus frowned. The voice was emotionless, but the tone? He knew it well.

  “…Stem?”

  The being’s faceless head tilted slightly before nodding. "Correct."

  Marcus exhaled, stepping closer. "Where the hell are we?"

  Stem’s form flickered momentarily, as if considering the question. "We are in your mind. Or rather… the space where I interface with you."

  Marcus glanced around. The shifting glyphs, the constantly reforming pathways, the pulsing light… It all felt so strange yet intrinsically connected to him.

  "So, what exactly are you doing?" Marcus asked.

  Stem raised a hand, gesturing toward a massive, broken construct in the distance. Thousands of tiny, glowing fragments hovered around it, clicking together piece by piece like a shattered artifact being slowly, meticulously rebuilt.

  "Mending."

  Stem’s tone was methodical, yet there was a hint of… something else. Satisfaction? Fascination?

  "Your body was critically damaged. Your internal energy pathways were destabilized, your nervous system overloaded, your bones fractured, and your muscles torn beyond conventional healing." Stem’s glowing fingers made another calculated motion, shifting a string of data. "I have been reconstructing you—carefully repairing your internal circuits, ensuring a complete recovery. It was necessary to keep you unconscious until the process was finished."

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  Marcus blinked. “Wait. You… you healed me?”

  Stem’s flickering form nodded. "Yes."

  Marcus stared for a moment, realization settling in. “You’ve never done anything like this before, have you?”

  A pause.

  Then—"No."

  Marcus exhaled. "Damn. That’s impressive." He folded his arms. "How does it even work?"

  Stem’s faceless head tilted slightly, as if contemplating how best to explain. "I have discovered something… unexpected."

  The glowing constructs around them pulsed in rhythm as Stem continued.

  "The System and this world’s magic are not the same. They operate independently, though they intersect in ways that are not fully understood."

  Marcus’ brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

  Stem raised a hand, forming a small holographic projection of Marcus’ own energy pathways. Tiny streams of Ki, Mana, and Psycha flowed through his body, moving separately at first—until they converged, blending into a new, unified force.

  "The System enhances and categorizes power. But the magic of this world exists outside of it. By healing you, I have come to understand this distinction more clearly. You are not simply growing within the System’s framework."

  Stem’s glowing fingers traced along the projection, emphasizing where the energies wove together.

  "You are transcending it."

  Marcus took a breath. His mind swam with the implications.

  Stem, this entire time, had been bound by his connection to Marcus. But now, by healing him… he had learned something new.

  Marcus ran a hand through his hair. "Alright. That’s a lot to take in. But first—how long have I been out?"

  Stem flickered.

  Then—"Time is not a concept here."

  Marcus deadpanned. “Really?”

  Stem remained silent for a second longer than necessary before adding: "However… I lack external perception without you. I do not know the exact duration."

  Marcus sighed. "So, you’re saying it’s time for me to wake up?"

  Stem nodded.

  With a slow, deliberate motion, Stem reached toward the final glowing construct, placing the last piece into position.

  A pulse of energy erupted through the space.

  "Wake up, Marcus."

  A rush of light, heat, and sensation crashed over him.

  And then—

  Marcus woke up.

  His eyes snapped open.

  The dim glow of lantern light flickered above him, casting warm shadows across the stone ceiling. He took a slow, deep breath—the air smelled clean, fresh, real.

  His fingers twitched. His arms felt lighter. His body… healed. Whole.

  And then he noticed her.

  Vira.

  She was seated in a chair beside his bed, her arms folded over the mattress, her head resting against them. Her breathing was slow, steady—asleep.

  Marcus blinked, adjusting to the dim light.

  Then, as if sensing his movement, Vira stirred. Her crimson eyes fluttered open, focusing on him—at first groggy, then wide with realization.

  "Marcus…?"

  He gave her a tired smirk. "Morning, sunshine."

  Vira stared. For a moment, she looked like she didn’t believe what she was seeing. Then—without warning—she lunged forward, grabbing his face and kissing him.

  Marcus froze for a split second.

  Then—he leaned in.

  The warmth of her lips, the press of her body against his—it was real. No second thoughts. No hesitation.

  For once—he didn’t question it.

  When they finally pulled apart, Vira rested her forehead against his, her breath uneven.

  "You were out for three weeks, you idiot," she murmured.

  Marcus exhaled, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Guess I needed the nap."

  Vira huffed a laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah, well. Next time, don’t make me wait so long."

  Marcus chuckled. "No promises."

  A comfortable silence settled between them.

  Then—

  A familiar, gruff voice broke the moment.

  "Hey, you two."

  Marcus turned his head—Grek stood in the doorway.

  The goblin merchant grinned, arms crossed, a pouch of coins jingling at his hip.

  "Good to see you back among the living, Marcus," Grek said, his sharp eyes flicking between the two of them. Then—his smirk widened. "Hope Grek is not interrupting anything."

  Vira groaned, covering her face. Marcus just laughed.

  Three weeks had passed. The Stronghold had changed.

  But for now—he was home.