Chapter 12 – Hopes And New Found Strength
"Sigh… I honestly don't know what to say at this point," Fiora muttered, dragging a hand down her face in frustration. "Normally, things would be simple. You'd forget everything that happened here, and we'd both move on. But since that didn't work… I'll have to handle things the old-fashioned way."
"Old-fashioned?" Zane raised a brow, his tone flat but curious.
"Verbally," she clarified. "The standard procedure is to erase the memory of what happens inside this room. But since you somehow resisted that… well, I can only issue a warning. You must not speak a word about anything that happened here—nothing. It doesn't matter who they are. For their sake, and especially for yours, keep your mouth shut. Understood?"
Zane simply nodded. "Yeah… I already figured as much. I know how important the injection is. And besides…" His voice grew colder. "I don't really have anyone to tell."
"Good," Fiora said, arms folding across her chest. "You can leave now. And… as weird as all of this has been, I've gotta admit, this might be the least boring Injection Ceremony I've supervised in the last twenty years."
She allowed a faint smirk to cross her lips. "Thanks to you. I hope to see your name on the acceptance list tomorrow."
Zane gave a simple nod of appreciation and turned toward the door. As he exited the room, Fiora's eyes lingered on his back, her expression unreadable.
"Finding someone like him on Lower Earth of all places… Those old fossils in 'Central Cathedral' won't believe it," she murmured under her breath. Her lips curved upward in amusement. "The future might be far more eventful than I thought. Maybe that'll cure this damn boredom."
The moment Zane stepped out of the office, he didn't waste a second.
He left the school grounds with urgency in his steps, the corners of his vision flickering as the pain in his side grew sharper with every breath. His thoughts were a tangled mess, and his body not far behind. Right now, more than anything, he needed rest—and time to think.
It took a lot of effort, but eventually, he made it back to the apartment. His legs barely carried him up the familiar staircase. When he finally reached the front door, he stumbled inside and shut it behind him. Darkness greeted him like an old friend.
With a strained groan, he pressed his back against the door and slid down to the floor.
"Hah… Hah…" His breathing came in heavy bursts. His skin was ghost-pale, and sweat clung to his chin like dew. Every inch of him trembled—not just from fatigue but from everything that had unfolded.
'Too much… I pushed myself too far…' He winced and clutched his ribs. A sharp pain flared in his side. He glanced down, tugged his shirt aside, and saw the bloodstain soaking through the fabric.
"Damn it…" he hissed, releasing the shirt with a grimace. He laid his head back and stared at the cracked ceiling above, letting the silence of his apartment settle in. The pain dulled just enough for his mind to wander again.
'Was all that real…? System, are you there?'
His hand twitched, and a moment later, the familiar blue interface of the system flickered into view at his call—clean, functional, and still very much active.
Even after everything, seeing it brought him a small measure of comfort. At least he wasn't imagining things.
"Heh… What even was today?" Zane muttered, his voice dry. "I get a strange system… I survive a mental assault from a Dimensional Knight… and apparently, I've got some ridiculous mental strength. Is the world playing a prank on me or something?"
Despite the evidence, a part of him still couldn't believe it.
Why now?
Why him?
After all the years of pain… of loss… why would the universe suddenly decide to throw him a bone? It was hard to trust something that looked like hope after so many years spent surviving in its absence.
Maybe a younger version of himself might've clung to this with both hands. But that Zane was long gone. Life had buried him under too much grief.
"…Until I reach my goal," he murmured, placing a hand on the cold floor to push himself up, "I won't let myself believe in miracles."
He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand. "If you can help me, system… I'll be grateful. But if you get in my way…" His eyes narrowed. "Then I'll tear you out of me, no matter what it takes."
With that final vow, he dragged his battered body toward the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed.
The pillow welcomed his head like a trapdoor into oblivion.
Within seconds, Zane fell into the deepest sleep of his life.
And yet, even in that black sea of exhaustion, it found him again.
The nightmare.
The same chair. The same drawing. The same red monster.
The same endless, silent scream.
***
"AGH!!"
Zane jolted awake with a cry, his entire body seizing up. Pain shot through his limbs like lightning, forcing him to go still.
His chest rose and fell rapidly as he scanned his surroundings in panic, only to realize where he was. His apartment. His bed. The nightmare had ended, and another night had passed.
Slowly, he laid back down, letting his breath even out.
He reached for his phone on the nightstand and blinked at the screen.
"…Five a.m.?"
He blinked again, this time in disbelief. "I slept… for twelve hours?"
That had never happened before. Not once in his entire life. Half a day—gone just like that. And strangely, he didn't feel nearly as broken as he had the night before. His body still ached, but it was more manageable now.
He sat up, surprised to find that he could move without too much strain. His injuries weren't gone, but the improvement was undeniable.
"I guess… now's as good a time as any to start the day," he muttered and made his way to the bathroom for a quick shower.
The cold water stung like hell against the bruises and cuts on his skin, but it was a necessary pain. After washing up, he wrapped his torso in clean bandages, then returned to his room and sat on the edge of the bed, exhaling deeply.
"Okay…" he whispered, mentally reviewing his options. "No school today. Injection is scheduled for later. So what now?"
His gaze dropped to his hands. Despite the residual pain, they felt steadier than before. Curiosity stirred in his chest.
"…I guess some light training won't hurt."
He knew it was reckless. But he needed to feel his body again—to know if what he sensed was real. This time, he wanted to exercise more for his mental well-being rather than his physical one.
With effort, Zane stood up and stretched his arms. A sharp sting pulsed through his sides, but he pushed through it.
"Ow, ow, ow…" he muttered under his breath. Still, something felt different. Even through the pain, his limbs moved with strange fluidity—unnaturally smooth and light.
He raised an eyebrow. "This… doesn't feel normal."
He reached one arm behind his back, then the other. He could touch his shoulder blades with ease—something he could never do before.
"What the hell…?"
Suspicious, he dropped to the floor and tried some push-ups. One… two… three… ten.
Done in seconds. No strain. No sweat. No resistance.
He sat back and stared at his hands in silence.
"…What's going on?"
His heart beat faster.
"Did my body… get stronger on its own?" he whispered, confused. "System… is this your doing?"