Chapter 27: Recovery and Discovery
Alex tried to sit upright, gritting his teeth against the pull of sore muscles. As he shifted, he instinctively moved his leg—only to feel the empty space where it used to be.
His heart sank.
He looked up at Yurei, who had been silently watching him. She seemed hesitant, the stern calm of her usual demeanor wavering just slightly.
She spoke quietly.
"We tried, Alex. The root heart... it keeps resisting. Every time the healing tried to regenerate your leg, the roots pushed back—interfered. If we had forced it... it would have killed you."
Alex didn't respond right away. He just nodded. Slowly. Stoically. He rested his head back against the cushioning inside the pod.
His eyes scanned the room.
Shield Maiden stood near the wall—silent and strong. As always. When his gaze met hers, she gave a soft bow of the head. She turned, glowing spear vanishing into light, and stepped into the summoning portal without a sound.
Then Eagleeye approached, holding out Alex's cane.
"Thought you might need this back," he said, with a tired smirk.
Alex took it, his fingers curling around the cool, polished metal.
"I think I will." He offered a dry chuckle.
Eagleeye gave a respectful nod and stepped into the portal next, fading away.
Then it was Ghostfang.
Once the size of a common Belgian Shepherd, now... towering.
The hellhound approached with deliberate weight in each step, his clawed paws echoing faintly in the quiet room. He stood tall—nearly 34 inches at the shoulder, his massive form radiating a subdued heat. Curved horns crowned his head, and his dark fur shimmered faintly, as if smoke moved just beneath the surface. His molten-red eyes looked into Alex's with a knowing, unsettling calm. Not beast. Not weapon.
Protector.
Alex reached out with his remaining strength, brushing his hand along the side of Ghostfang's head.
The hound leaned into the touch.
Then Bliss.
She had remained perched at the foot of the pod the whole time, her big, sleepy eyes now wide and shimmering with emotion. Alex reached out and gently picked her up. She nestled against him, small paws holding onto his shirt.
He smiled faintly and stroked her soft head.
Ghostfang moved closer, and Alex ran his hand across the hound's thick neck.
For a long moment, it was just the three of them.
The beast, the bunny, and the broken summoner.
But despite the loss. Despite the scars—physical and otherwise—Alex felt something strange stirring in his chest.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Resolve.
He wasn't done. Not yet.
___
Alex stayed in the hospital for nearly a month.
Doctors tried every treatment available, but it was clear from the start—his condition wasn't something medicine could fix. Alex summoned Healer to attempt advanced regeneration magic. But when she cast her spell, a strange thing happened. The root embedded in his chest flared to life. It absorbed the healing light like water to a sponge… and then grew stronger.
They had to stop immediately.
Alex understood. It wasn't just fused to him—it was now a part of him.
No… worse.
It was learning.
After that, he refused further magical healing.
His days in the hospital blended together in a blur of quiet discomfort and cautious routine. Kian, Leena, and Toru visited regularly. Kian usually came bursting in with loud, confident stories about his hero work—always followed by sheepish laughter when the nurses shushed him.
Leena arrived with baskets of fruit she had grown herself—sunflare dragon fruit. Their outer skin pulsed with gentle warmth, like bottled sunlight. Alex didn't know how, but eating them helped. He felt more awake, more restored. Less… hollow.
Toru came less frequently, but when he did, he brought blueprints and parts. A few times, he simply sat silently in the corner, tinkering with things while Alex rested. But Alex appreciated the quiet solidarity. He didn't need words from Toru—his presence was enough.
Then came the day the hospital tried installing a prosthetic.
It was supposed to be the latest model—lightweight, efficient, adaptable.
But as soon as the device latched onto the nerves of his missing leg, Alex felt a strange hum from his chest. Roots pulsed from within and slithered down through his flesh. Without resistance. Without pain.
They emerged from the stump like fingers of nature—green and brown tendrils wrapping around the prosthetic, prying it apart effortlessly.
He watched, stunned, as the mechanical limb crumbled in seconds.
The roots retreated just as calmly, disappearing back under the skin.
Alex didn't scream.
He didn't cry.
He just stared at the remains of what could've given him a normal step again, realizing—his body wasn't human anymore.
Not completely.
Later that evening, when the nurses were gone and the room was silent, Alex summoned the Mindcube.
The cube pulsed in his palm, faint trails of psychic light weaving around his fingertips like threads of thought. He placed it over his chest, and his eyes glazed over as information flooded his mind.
[Item Name: Verdant Neurospore Heart (Growth)]
Rarity: ???
Status: Fused
Type: Biological Core
Properties:
Symbiotic Integration: Replaces user's heart, veins, and primary arteries with plant-based root system.
Regenerative Vitality: Automatically heals physical injuries unless fatal.
Adaptive Rejection: Foreign objects or substances are detected and eliminated—non-bonded prosthetics, toxins, and parasites are rejected.
Selective Compatibility: Only items summoned by the host or previously bonded may integrate with the system.
Growth Status: Evolving. Further abilities unknown.
---
Alex stared at the glowing text projected inside his mind.
> "So that's why it destroyed the prosthetic," he murmured, more to himself than to the cube.
It wasn't just healing him.
It was protecting him—on its own terms.
His veins weren't veins anymore. His blood didn't just carry oxygen—it carried something older, something rooted. Living roots now pulsed beneath his skin like invasive vines that had claimed his body as their new home.
He exhaled shakily.
"I'm not even sure… how much of me is left."
He wanted to feel angry. Wanted to reject it. But in the corner of his mind, he knew: if it weren't for the Neurospore Heart, he'd be dead. That slashed chest, that sewer altar… it should've ended him.
And yet here he was—alive, standing on borrowed power. Changed. Watched over by the very thing he feared.
He gripped the edge of the bed, feeling the rough tingle of bark beneath his skin where a vein once pulsed.
> "I'm still me," he whispered. "I have to be."
The Mindcube dimmed, folding back into his mind.
And outside the window, the wind rustled gently—almost like leaves.
A crazy idea had taken root in Alex's mind.
It came quietly—like a whisper echoing inside the endless corridors of his thoughts.
> "If the heart only accepts items I summon… what if I summoned something just for it?"
He didn't know if it was possible. He didn't know if it was safe.
But the thought stayed.
It haunted him.
And for that to happen—for any of it to even begin—he had to return to the office. Back to where it all started. Back to the tools and the systems only he could use.
So, for the next month, Alex fought.
He trained, stretched, learned how to walk again—how to balance. Not with a prosthetic, because the root-heart rejected every attempt. But with new equilibrium, with Ghostfang always nearby, and with his summoned cane—now reinforced by Toru with subtle augmentations to support his weight and steady his step.
Doctors were surprised. They said recovery would take at least three months.
Alex made it his mission to prove them wrong in one.
He studied reports from his hospital bed. Sent remote commands to the heroes still in the field. Replied to Yurei's messages in real time. Monitored the Sunlight Foundation's activity through Ghostbit. Issued evaluations on rogue item cases.
> He was broken, but he still did his job.
Because Alex Thorne didn't know how to rest—not when a world was still spinning under his feet. Not when he had teammates waiting. Not when that idea—that insane, impossible idea—was still burning in the back of his mind.
And finally, after a month, when the hospital discharged him…
He walked through the agency doors again.
Leaning on a cane. Mask still hooked to his side. His eyes sharper. His presence quieter—but deeper.
Alex was back.
And the first thing he did was look at the summoning interface.
> "Time to see if I can give this heart what it wants."
[End of Chapter]