I woke up slow, like my body was buffering. The ceiling fan wobbled above me and clicked every few spins, like it was reminding the ceiling it was still there. Sunlight sneaked past the curtain and warmed the blanket over my stomach. My ribs ached, but not the kind of ache that made you see stars. It was the kind of ache that said, remember the ogre? and then laughed.
There was a glowing white window floating above my face.
For a second I thought a migraine had learned how to text me. Then the letters resolved into clean, clinical lines.
[Status Window]
Name: Ethan Cross Level: 1
HP: 150 / 150
MP: 0 / 0
Strength: 12
Agility: 10
Endurance: 9
Intelligence: 6
Wisdom: 5
Luck: ???
Skills: — Absolute Regeneration (SSS-Rank) [New]
I stared. The window didn't blink. The window didn't care about my disbelief. I waved a hand. The window drifted an inch to avoid my fingers like it was a polite waiter.
"Okay," I whispered to the ceiling fan, because the fan and I were already close. "So that was not a dream."
The bed creaked a little when I sat up. The blanket slid to my waist. I remembered last night in a flood. Mara's mouth. Her laugh. Her weight on my hips. The way my brain forgot the alphabet for a while. Then the system popping into existence like it had been waiting behind my eyelids.
"Status," I said, because that was the only word I had ever learned from RPG memes. The window didn't change, because it was already the status window. I tried again anyway. "Menu?"
A panel bloomed beside the first one like the system was humoring a toddler.
— Status (HP, MP, Stats)
— Skills (Combat + Passive)
— Log (Notifications, Conquests, Battle History)
— Quest (Main + Side Quests)
— Inventory (Storage, Drops, Items)
— Titles (Unlocked through conquests/achievements)
— Options (Interface settings)
— Partners
"Options," I said.
[Options]
— Interface Size: Normal
— Transparency: 0%
— Notifications: On
— Voice: Off
"Jesus," I muttered. "I have a settings page."
The smell of coffee drifted in from the kitchen. A pan shifted. Someone hummed softly. I pulled the blanket up to my waist and sat on the edge of the couch. I didn't have pants on. I didn't know where my pants were. That felt like a problem for Future Ethan.
"Skills," I said, because I was absolutely delaying the moment I had to walk into a kitchen half naked.
[Skills]
— Absolute Regeneration (SSS-Rank) Effect: Instantly recovers from wounds, poisons, fatigue, and stamina loss. Severe damage may impose a temporary cooldown. Cooldown: None for minor injuries. Variable for major trauma. Notes: Passive activation.
I squinted at the effect line. "Instantly recovers from… stamina loss." I rubbed my face with both hands. "That's unfair. That's cheating. That's—okay I'm not complaining, but still."
Footsteps approached. I slapped the window to make it go away, which was not how windows worked. The system politely reduced transparency to 80% so I could see through it like it was a dirty windshield.
Mara leaned into the doorway wearing an oversized tee that was absolutely not mine and shorts that were definitely hers. She was holding a mug in each hand. Her hair was down now, loose curls around her shoulders.
Her smile is soft in a way that presses a finger to the panic in my chest and tells it to sit.
"Morning," she said. "You are alive again?"
"I am," I said. I tried to sound casual and ended up sounding like a possum that had learned English yesterday. "I appreciate the hospitality."
She handed me a mug and watched me over the rim of hers. "How are you feeling?"
"I feel like I got wrecked by a truck in a loving way," I said. "Which is an improvement over an ogre doing it for spite."
Her smile turned amused. "You were out cold for 12 hours. I checked your bandages twice. You heal fast."
"Great genes," I said, and took a careful sip. The coffee was strong and sweet. "Or good care."
"Both i think," she said, and then tilted her head the way a person does when they decide to be honest. "You don't have to pretend you're fine. You were very close to not being fine. You can rest here until your hands stop shaking."
I looked down at my hands. They were shaking. Of course they were. I put the mug down before I baptized the blanket in coffee. "You're right. I'm fine-ish."
Her eyes flicked to my chest, to the neat lines of bandage that crossed under my collarbones. "I can change those again after breakfast." She smiled, and something playful slipped in. "Also, I'm making pancakes."
"I'll marry you," I said, and then choked on my own boldness. "I mean I'll help you eat them. Sorry. Wrong words."
"Eat first," she said. "Proposals later." She stepped back into the kitchen and then leaned her shoulder on the door frame so I could keep looking at her. It was cruel. I was grateful.
The system window kept hovering at 80 percent like a smug ghost. I sighed and tried, "Log."
[Log]
— Conquest Achieved: Mara (Support)
Reward: SSS-Rank Skill — Absolute Regeneration Bonus: +10 Strength, +5 Agility, +50 HP
Note: Target described you as "persistent." System complied. Timestamp: 02:18
I stared at the "Note" line until my brain fetched the right words. "You called me persistent," I said to Mara's shoulder.
She glanced back. "I did. You don't give up easily even after being injured so badly you gave it your all. It's a compliment."
"Right," I said, because I couldn't explain that my invisible video game overlord agreed with her in writing.
I pulled the blanket tighter around my waist and stood carefully. My legs worked. My ribs complained a bit. I shuffled toward the kitchen using the mug as a shield. The apartment was small and bright. The counters were clean. There were magnets shaped like cats on the fridge. The pan on the stove was doing pancake magic while Mara flipped with a spatula like she intended to win a medal.
She glanced at my blanket toga and grinned. "There are sweatpants on the chair. I put your clothes in the wash."
"You didn't have to do that," I said, already reaching for the sweatpants like a man at the end of a desert who had just discovered water existed.
"I wanted to," she said. "It gave me an excuse to look at your butt."
I stopped halfway into the pants and forgot how to breathe for a second. "That seems fair."
"Eat," she said, pleased with herself. "Then tell me your plan. If the plan is 'go right back into a gate,' I'll roll my eyes so hard I injure something and then I'll help you anyway because you are so cute."
I sat at the tiny table and stared at the pancake stack like it was a religious experience. "The plan is to learn how to not die," I said between bites. "Then maybe I'll go into a very small gate and politely ask it to be gentle."
She laughed, low and warm. "I approve of polite. Also gentle is not guaranteed."
"Story of my life," I said.
She leaned her hip against the counter and watched me eat. Her eyes were curious and calm. There was a question she didn't ask, and I was grateful for that, too. I didn't want to lie to her, and I wasn't ready to explain I had a floating screen that claimed sex made me more powefull.
When I was done, she took the plate and kissed the top of my head. It wasn't dramatic. It hit me like a soft hammer anyway.
"Thank you," I said, and I meant it.
"You're welcome," she said. "You take a shower. Then some fresh bandages. Then you can tell me your polite plan."