The faint glow of wards along the ceiling pulsed like a heartbeat.
Ren stirred. His eyelids felt heavy, but not the crushing weight of unconsciousness. Just the dull ache of deep, dreamless sleep. Slowly, his eyes opened to the sterile light of the Academy hospital.
For a moment, he was disoriented. The room smelled faintly of mana herbs and disinfectant, its walls lined with glowing sigils meant to suppress wild surges of energy. He lay in a reinforced bed, sheets tucked with military precision.
Then he heard voices.
"You're awake!"
Mira's face leaned into his vision, relief flashing across her expression before she quickly masked it with a scolding frown. Watson stood behind her, arms crossed, though the tightness in his shoulders betrayed tension.
Ren blinked, his throat dry. "Morning…?" His voice came out rough, but steadier than expected.
"It's morning," Watson confirmed, his tone clipped, but his eyes softened slightly. "You slept the whole night. First peaceful rest since… that fight."
Ren exhaled slowly, pushing against the mattress to sit up. Pain lanced through his body, but it was distant now, not overwhelming. "I feel… better."
Mira's eyes narrowed. "Better doesn't mean healed. Don't you dare move yet…"
But Ren was already shifting, swinging his legs toward the floor.
"Ren!" Mira hissed, grabbing his arm. Watson moved instinctively to his other side, steadying him before he collapsed.
"I'm fine," Ren said firmly, though his body wavered slightly under its own weight. His bare feet touched the cool stone floor, grounding him. "Really… I can stand."
Mira glared, but Watson studied him more closely, then nodded faintly. "Stubborn as ever. But he's not lying. His balance is steady."
"That doesn't mean…" Mira started, but Ren cut her off with a small, reassuring smile.
"I'm okay."
The conviction in his voice stilled them both. Mira reluctantly released her grip, though she didn't step back. Watson folded his arms again, muttering under his breath, "Don't make us regret trusting that."
Before Mira could argue further, the door slid open with a faint hiss.
A healer-doctor in white robes stepped in, holding a crystalline diagnostic device. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of Ren standing, though his professional tone never faltered. "So, you're awake. Good. Let's see how much truth there is to your bravado."
Ren submitted to the check-up quietly. The doctor pressed the glowing crystal against his chest; runes lit up, forming patterns in the air. He murmured incantations, tested reflexes and measured mana flow.
Finally, the man stepped back, nodding slowly. "Remarkable. Your core stabilized faster than expected. Physically, you are fit to leave. But…" His eyes narrowed. "Your mana signature is… unusual. Be cautious. Any reckless strain could undo your recovery."
Before Ren could respond, another presence entered the room.
"Unusual is putting it lightly."
Yato stepped inside, his calm aura preceding him. Behind him, two of his teammates lingered, their eyes flicking between Ren and the glowing sigils etched across the walls.
Ren met Yato's gaze silently. There was no hostility in it, just only weight.
"You held back the creatures until the end," Yato said simply, as though continuing a conversation unspoken. "You nearly tore yourself apart doing it."
Ren's jaw tightened. "It was necessary."
Yato studied him for a long moment before giving the faintest nod. "Perhaps. But next time, necessity won't save you if you don't learn to control what you've awakened."
Mira shifted uncomfortably at the word awakened. Watson's sharp eyes darted to Yato, but he said nothing.
The doctor cleared his throat. "In any case, he is cleared for discharge. I'll file the papers. But I expect him back for weekly evaluations." With that, the healer departed, leaving the atmosphere heavier than before.
Silence lingered until Yato finally spoke again. "You can walk?"
Ren straightened, forcing steadiness into his stance. "Yes."
Yato's gaze flicked over him, assessing, then he gestured to his team. "We'll escort you. The city's quiet, but word travels fast. Better you don't walk alone. Come outside the hospital. We are waiting for you there."
Ren nodded.
The healer's signature is sealed across the parchment. A faint glow marked Ren's release, and with it the weight of confinement lifted from his shoulders.
He had expected to walk out of the hospital with only Mira and Watson, but when they reached the main gates, a black, rune-etched vehicle was already waiting at the curb. Its frame hummed faintly with restrained mana, sleek lines catching the morning sun.
Yato stood beside it. He didn't speak at first. He never wasted words. His gaze flicked over Ren once, weighing, then he opened the rear door with a simple motion.
"Get in."
Ren hesitated, not out of reluctance but because the moment felt strange. A car arranged for him? In Zone 5, middle-class streets, things like this weren't normal. He slid inside. Mira and Watson followed, their unease sharp beneath their quietness.
The door shut, muffling the outside world. The cabin smelled faintly of leather and mana-oil. Crystalline panels pulsed with faint light, driving enchantments humming low beneath the floor.
Ren leaned back, letting the hum of the car settle into him. For a time, no one spoke. The silence pressed heavier than words, broken only by the occasional turn of the wheels and the muted rush of the city passing by.
Through the tinted glass, Elaris unfolded. The pristine spires of Zone 3 slipped behind them, wide avenues lined with mana-lamps giving way to narrower roads and denser housing. The further they traveled, the sharper the contrast. Gleaming façades became cracked stone, orderly gardens gave way to small courtyards and worn brick.
Ren's eyes lingered on it all. This was home. Not the shining heart of the Academy, but the living pulse of the city, messy, imperfect, real.
Mira shifted beside him, as though trying to read his thoughts. Watson remained silent, arms crossed, his gaze locked on the road ahead.
Only Yato spoke, his voice calm, deliberate. "Zone 5." His eyes flicked toward Ren in the reflection of the glass. "Not far in distance, but worlds apart."
Ren didn't answer. There was nothing to say to that. Yato's one teammate drove the car. She was a girl. Brownies hair with brown eyes. Thin body.
The car slowed as they turned down familiar streets. Neighbors paused at corners, eyes following the black vehicle. Whispers stirred in its wake. Half curiosity, half unease. Ren felt the weight of them pressing against the windows, though none dared step closer.
Finally, the car stopped.
Ren's house stood as it always had. Modest, two stories, walls patched in places where time had bitten deep. The sight of it tugged something in him loose, even with the tension in the air.
The door opened with a soft click. Yato stepped out first, scanning the street with a casual glance that was anything but careless. Then he gestured.
Ren moved slowly, his legs still remembering the weight of the hospital bed. Mira hovered near his side, ready to catch him if he faltered, though he kept his stride steady. Watson flanked his other side, silent as ever.
They walked to the front gate. That girl remained in the car.
For a heartbeat, Ren simply stood there. The worn wood, the faintly creaking hinge. It was the same as always. Yet everything else had changed.
Yato stopped at the threshold. He didn't cross it. His presence lingered like a shadow, quiet but inescapable. His gaze rested on Ren, heavy and unreadable, before he finally spoke.
"You're home."
Simple words, but they carried weight, as if they meant more than just walls and a roof.
Ren pushed the gate open. Mira and Watson followed him inside, the door closing softly behind them.
Outside, Yato remained. Silent, watching, until the last flicker of mana-lights on the car dimmed and the street settled once more. After some moments, he entered the home.
Ren exhaled, letting the tension slip away piece by piece. The house smelled of faint dust, of familiar wood, of home. For the first time since the battle, he was here again.