Three days had passed since Eman sent the Titanic Corrupted Queen Bee back to its slumber.
Morning.
Eman stirred, slowly awakening to the soft glow of sunlight spilling through the window. His limbs felt heavy, as though weighed down by invisible chains. His mind was groggy, his body aching in places he didn't even know could ache.
It was only then that he realized— he'd been unconscious for three days.
Apparently, the toll of unleashing such overwhelming power, combined with the strain of forming a sudden contract with a Guardian Dragon, had been too much for his body to handle.
Eman wasn't entirely sure which had pushed him into a coma—the final battle itself, or the moment he became bound to Ameros. But honestly, it didn't matter.
What mattered was that he was alive.
And more importantly, everyone else was safe.
As his vision cleared, the first thing he saw were two sets of familiar, beautiful eyes gazing down at him with concern.
Sol and Zennie.
