‘Who… Where am… How did I get…’

  Jon felt his Seir-Perpetual Heart thrum within his chest. Heart-mutation humming with the conceptual understandings of ice, winter, perpetuity, and stillness. The soft, rhythmic thumping of his Seir-Perpetual Heart was far too slow to be anything even remotely close to that of an uninitiated human.

  In fact, even amongst the other Knights within Springtown, Jon’s natural heart rate was amongst the slowest, even while pushing his Knight-Ranked physicality beyond its inherent limitations.

  Neither his Murmur-Arhat Marrow nor Yaochi-Mudra Prana helped with this strange secondary effect of his heart-mutation. The abundant natural lifeforce contained within the confines of his flesh and marrow was extraordinary to behold, increasing the effectiveness of all his Ice Trait and Recovery Trait abilities.

  It was no wonder that he had already started to wake up, not even an hour after having a grass-woven thorn thrust through the centre of his chest. The faint sounds of conversations stirring him to consciousness, alongside the familiar rhythmic tapping of a pen against a clipboard.

  “… Just a kid…”

  “… Dyed his hair… traces of scar tissue across his upper body…”

  “Peculiar-looking prosthetic. Some sort of hardened ceramic designed to mimic wood textures. Should we remove it?”

  “No, leave it. What did the tests state regarding John Doe’s blood type?”

  “Inconclusive. No traces of A antigens, B antigens, or Rh factor. We suspect the patient must possess an O negative blood type.”

  Jon felt his eyes flicker open, hearing the shouts of unfamiliar voices going on all around him. The constant beeping of medical equipment and heart rate monitors caused his head to throb in pain, Jon unconsciously lifting his hand in order to cradle his pounding temples.

  His vision was slightly blurred, and his throat so dry that it was almost too painful to breathe. Each breath that Jon found himself taking caused his oesophagus to harshly rub against itself, sending him into a violent coughing fit.

  The sound of his labouring breathing causing the conversations around him to halt, breaths hitching as they observed the now conscious man laying atop the hospital bed.

  “… What the hell?”

  “Wasn’t he given an anaesthetic upon arrival?”

  “How is we waking up already?”

  “Did one of the nurses misstate the dosages on the chart?”

  Jon reaching his hand towards his [Red Archives Of Mars Quirinus] before pausing, feeling the presence of someone looming over him. Their hand stretching towards him, as if to push him back down onto the bed causing his Fragment Of Instinct to flare up, Jon unconsciously activating his Fragment Of Cedarspear-Mutation.

  [Bestial Intuition].

  [Behold Thy Wooden Metamorphosis, Clad In Cedarwood Spearlight].

  Tabitha-Cedarspear Arm clasping around the wrist of the man that attempted to touch him, wooden-fingers tightening around unprotected flesh. The man in question screaming as the Knight-Ranked mutation crushed his uninitiated flesh.

  “Holy shit! He just broke his arm!”

  “What the hell kind of strength does it take to snap a grown man’s forearm!?

  “Is it the prosthetic? But Doctor Gordon told us to leave it be until he woke up!”

  “Kid, what the hell are you doing! Let go of him!”

  Jon did not even realize that he had used the full force of his Tabitha-Cedarspear Arm, watching with a half-dazed expression as the man that tried to approach him collapsed onto his knees, still screaming in pain.

  He could feel his Fragment Of Mind working to disperse the fog that seemed to cloud the waters of his imaginary mental construct. Glacier-shaped icebergs conjoined within one another, polluting core memories and beliefs with information relating to specific concepts and emotions.

  The mental barriers that existed between the Sea Of Tehom and Sea Of Guf had long since shattered, now regaining a semblance of order and structure. His Sea Of Hadal, which protected his subconscious mind continued to stand although had experienced a tremendous amount of pressure, almost causing his mind to fracture in the process.

  ‘I think… I think this is my fault.’

  Someone shouted at him but went unnoticed as he blankly stared towards the nearest window. For a moment, Jon almost thought that he saw flashes of surging green and violent transformations through the reflective glass-panels.

  ‘I… I let them in. At least, I didn’t reject them, did I?’

  The lingering aftereffects of having the Angel Of Green and Angel Of Transformation manipulate the concepts contained within his Source.

  Although Jon had agreed to the offer, he was only now realizing just how close he had come to death. The fact that he could imbue fragment-pathways with the concepts contained within Title Fragments was not lost on him but was ignored, just now remembering what it was he was fighting for.

  Minerva-Infiltration Eye widening in realization.

  ‘Avahni. Miyoung. What the hell happened to them!? Where the hell am I?’

  Jon felt his upper body pushed back down onto the bed behind him. Brows furrowing in response to the presence of three enormous-looking men, pinning him down while two more attempted to pry the fingers off his Tabitha-Cedarspear Arm.

  More voices continuing to converse by themselves several feet away.

  “Um, is this normal for students to experience!?”

  “This guy is hella strong! What the hell kind of drugs was he on before coming here!”

  “It must be the prosthetic! How else would this guy be able break an arm after receiving his anaesthetic! His heart rate hasn’t risen above 38 for crying out loud!”

  Jon glanced in the direction of his Tabitha-Cedarspear Arm taking note of the man that he currently had trapped within his grip. Despite the mutated nature of his right arm, he still possessed the same level of feeling within the limb, allowing him to feel the exact spot where he had fractured the man’s ulna.

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  ‘Oh shit.’ Jon thought to himself, releasing his grip over the man’s arm. The one that the others referred to as Doctor Gordon collapsing onto the floor, groaning through muffled lips as several nurses and other doctors rushed to assist him.

  Minerva-Infiltration Eyes observing the facial features of the three men pinning him down, alongside the varied expressions of a dozen-or-so young men and women. Each one staring at him with varying degrees of fear and anxiety on their faces, peering at him as though he was some sort of wild animal.

  “Just stay down kid! If you know what is best for you, just lay still until-.”

  The physical enhancements granted to him through his Seir-Perpetual Heart and Murmur-Arhat Marrow was more than enough to resist the full strength of three uninitiated mortals. Even if their physical strength alone was within the top percentile of the human population, it was not even a fraction of the force that Jon could produce with a limb.

  Their bodies thrown backwards as Jon sat up from his reclined position, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The hospital gown that he had been dressed in dropping to his feet, causing several sharp gasps to leak from the mouths of his observers.

  Their eyes immediately glancing towards the lower regions of his physique, some blushing at the sight of his lower body. Others, more appreciative of the male physique, took note of his minimal body fat and defined musculature, nodding their heads before-.

  Noticing the dozens of scars that littered his arms and chest. Some even stretching across the length of his abdomen, reaching around towards his back and thighs. Most appeared faded, at least several years old at this point, while one in particular looked-.

  Fragment Of Mind piercing through the mental fog which clouded his thoughts and emotions.

  “I don’t suppose one of you would be able to tell me where I am?” Jon said, stretching the muscles in his right shoulder. A soft groan escaping his lips, the moment a satisfying crack resounded throughout the room.

  His eyes sweeping across the scattered orderlies and white-garbed youths that stood between him and the sole exit to the room. Hospital equipment lining the wall where he head once rested, alongside a crash cart toppled over onto its side, leaking vials and spilling syringes all over the floor.

  The quality and craftsmanship of the equipment far too precise to be anything produced out of Springtown. No-one in the room seemed to possess even a complete Mortal Title, let alone any semblance of spiritual-.

  ‘Wait.’

  ‘No spiritual energy?’

  ‘That would mean-.’

  Jon took a single step forward, watching as his observers retreated backwards an equal number of steps. The orderlies that laid scattered on the floor around him looking at him with expressions of confusion and fear clearly evident on their faces.

  “Three, fully-grown men… pushed down in an instant…”

  “What kind of crazy-ass drugs is this kid on…”

  “No! I’m telling you it’s the arm!”

  “I’m calling the police. At this point, they can fucking shoot him for all I care…”

  Despite the mental confusion and the obvious dissonance between his memories and thoughts, Jon was still capable of analysing the situation before him. Between the man groaning on the floor with a broken arm, and the three orderlies on the ground he was not painting the best of first impressions.

  Taking a deep breath, Jon raised both hands, as if trying to defuse the situation.

  “… Well, this is kind of awkward but let me apologize for whatever injuries I may have caused. The last thing I remember before waking up here was… well, being stabbed and-.”

  Jon paused, watching as his observers continued to look at him as if he was some kind of weirdo. Several white-garbed women averting their eyes away from him, cheeks blushed as their gazes roamed up and down the length of his form.

  Tilting his head to the side Jon furrowed his brows, lowering his gaze before swiftly realizing the problem at hand. Tabitha-Cedarspear Arm swiftly retrieving the hospital gown that had fallen on the ground beside him, rushing to put it back on.

  “Everyone here has just seen me naked then… amazing…” Jon muttered, sighing before shaking his head.

  “Fuck… how long was I unconscious for? I mean, what is the date?” Jon asked, hoping that at someone would be willing to answer his question. Even if his apology had gone awry, hopefully at least one person would-.

  “January 6th.” One woman answered, watching as Jon paused, blinking.

  “… 2033?” He queried.

  More than six-hundred days had passed since the beginning of the System Introduction. Although Jon was unsure to the exact number of days remaining until the conclusion of his System Introduction, he was certain that there was less than four-hundred days remaining.

  Just a little over a year until he was supposed to return back to Earth, alongside the hundreds of thousands of other participants in the System Introduction. Jon had just hoped that not too much time had passed since his return to Earth.

  And his subsequent awakening in this hospital room.

  Said woman peering at him strangely, furrowing her brows before shaking her head from side-to-side.

  “No. January 6th, 2032.” She said, half-glancing towards the three orderlies that had once again moved to surround him. The woman in question observing Jon with a peculiar expression on her face, watching as his expression shifted, from one of thoughtful rumination to one of complete and utter shock.

  Mouth dropping. And eyes widening as his brows shot up towards his hairline. Obscured beneath the messy fringe that covered half his face. Strands of white-coloured hair hiding a pair of golden-green eyes.

  Jon chucked, dismissing her words as lies the moment he heard them.

  “No. No. That can’t be right. I was in the System Introduction for more than-.”

  [Lethe; Shapeless Mask Of Thieving Lies].

  The Truth-Scales which manifested within his Three Seas Of Knowledge tipping further and further away from ‘falsehood’, and closer and closer towards ‘truth’. Not a single iota of spiritual energy emanated from the woman, nor anyone else around him either.

  Jon bit his tongue, preventing himself from speaking further. Desiring to shift the conversation, Jon extended his hand forward, palm facing up and tone somewhat friendly.

  “May I please borrow a phone?”

  Although Jon found himself addressing the woman that spoke, his eyes swept across the figures of everyone present, as if asking each and every one of them. Most refused to meet his gaze while some clenched their pockets tightly, wondering if he would pat them down and take them if someone did not offer their phone first.

  The woman, perhaps in her mid-to-late thirties smiled at him.

  “Only if you tell me what you want to use it for.”

  Jon opened his mouth to speak, thinking of using the phone to check the date and time. He wanted to see if the woman was lying to him, or if this was all some strange and horrible dream that the Angel Of Green or Angel Of Desire had trapped him within.

  Returning to Earth…

  After so long almost felt as though…

  ‘As though I was waking up from some horrifying nightmare.’

  Over the past six-hundred days, Jon had contemplated his first action upon his return back to Earth. Considering that he thought his estimated time of arrival would be almost three years into the future, he did not know what to do first after realizing a mere sixty-days had passed back on Earth.

  ‘Two months…’

  ‘A mere two months…’

  Jon glanced towards the reflective glass-panels behind him looking at the reflection of his aged and weary-looking face. Even without Lethe transforming his appearance, Jon could see the similarities between himself and-.

  His shoulders slumped inwards, making Jon appear smaller than what his figure suggested. Stomach churning within his abdomen, Seir-Perpetual Heart racing; emotions bubbling from the depths of his Three Seas Of Knowledge.

  “I-.”

  “You’re a man now. It’s time you learnt how to make your own way in the world.”

  Jon clenched his Tabitha-Cedarspear Arm tightly, expression contorting into one constrained anger. The changes to expression did not go unnoticed by the middle-aged woman, nor the orderlies that had surrounded him.

  Reaching into his [Red Archives Of Mars Quirinus] Jon sighed as he manifested a Knight-Ranked Forgetful-Thought Mirror. The sudden appearance of the three-foot tall mirror caused several gasps to ripple throughout his gathered observers, eyes glancing in the direction of the security camera placed in the corner of the room.

  “Don’t worry,” Jon said.

  “Come tomorrow morning, this would all have been one big, bad dream.”

  A bright silver-coloured light escaped the room where Jon had been sleeping in. Wisps of knowledge natured spiritual energy seeping out into the atmosphere around him, dissolving into infinitesimally minute motes of mana.

  The eyes of his numerous observers glazing over, conscious and subconscious minds invaded with a chaotic wave of knowledge natured spiritual energy. Forgetful-Thought Mirror stored back inside his Red Archives, manifesting a set of fantastical-looking clothes in its place.

  Jon pausing for several seconds, sighing, before moving his Minerva-Infiltration Eyes towards the vast city that stretched out behind him.

  ‘… What do I do now?’