The door opened quietly, and Hana slipped back into the room, carrying two cans of peach soda and a little bag of honey butter chips. Her eyes darted between me and the monitor, then to the empty chair Dr. Min had occupied.
"…She grilled you, didn't she?" Hana asked, narrowing her eyes knowingly.
I gave a soft laugh, one hand brushing my sister's worry away. "She was just doing her job. You don't have to look like you're ready to fight her for me."
Hana huffed, putting the snacks down on the side table. "I am ready to fight her. You were in there way too long. I thought she was going to keep you until sunrise." She crouched by my bed and leaned forward. "So? What happened?"
I hesitated. For a moment, the hum of the mana resonance machine filled the silence. "She thinks my mana flow is… unusual. Nothing dangerous, just… different."
Hana frowned, unconvinced. "That sounds like doctor-speak for 'we found something weird.'"
I smirked faintly. "Maybe. But it's not the end of the world. You know me—I'll handle it."
"You always say that," Hana muttered, opening a soda and pressing it into my hands. "But then you end up crawling home from a gate with half your notebook missing and blood on your boots."
I couldn't help but smile at my sister's dramatic scolding. "It's only happened… three times."
"Three times too many." Hana glared, though the edge softened quickly. She sighed, climbing up onto the chair beside the bed and kicking her legs. "I just… don't like it when doctors get that look. Like they're about to tell me something's wrong with you."
I reached over, ruffling Hana's hair despite my sister's protests. "Hey. Look at me. I'm fine. A little tired, maybe a little bruised, but fine. The world isn't about to collapse just because my mana's messy."
Hana met her gaze, searching for cracks in her calm expression, but my eyes held steady—warm, steady, reassuring. Finally, Hana gave a small nod and leaned against me.
"Okay. But if your mana starts doing anything freaky, I want to know. No secrets. Deal?"
I chuckled softly, opening the soda. "Deal."
For a while, the room settled into an easy quiet, the earlier tension dissolving into the comfortable rhythm of sisterly banter. The machines still hummed, the readings still scrolled, but for the moment, it was just the two of them—sharing chips, trading small jabs, and grounding each other in the familiar warmth that no scan could measure.
I leaned back against the pillows, the quiet between me and Hana finally settling into something comfortable. The soda can was cold in my hand, the fizz still tingling on my tongue. Hana was curled in the chair beside my bed, one knee pulled to her chest, nibbling at a chip. For the first time since opening my eyes, I almost felt normal.
And then the world flickered.
My vision blurred, the edges of the room warping until lines of glowing green text floated in front of my eyes. I froze, the soda slipping slightly in my grip. Hana didn't notice—still chewing loudly, scrolling her phone.
[System Initialization Complete]
[Designation: Celestial Druid Summoner]
[Role: Keeper of the Balance]
My breath caught. More text followed, cascading across my vision like a waterfall no one else could see.
[Notice: The Shadow Monarch has been chosen.]
[Balance at Risk: The Shadow Monarch's awakening will tip equilibrium.]
[Countermeasure Required: Balance Protocol Initiated.]
My pulse spiked. Shadow Monarch? Chosen? Equilibrium?
[The Shadow Monarch governs death and darkness.]
[You are assigned as Keeper of Life and Renewal.]
[Duty: Maintain equilibrium. Purify corrupted zones. Prevent collapse.]
My hands tightened around the blanket. This wasn't a hallucination. This was real. Just like the whispers in that cursed chamber beneath the tree.
Another line of text appeared, larger than the rest:
[Quest: Prepare the Vessel]
Objective: Complete physical conditioning during hospital recovery.
Rewards: Status Recovery, 3+ Stat Points, Random Loot Box.
Penalty: Atrophy of body → Failure of Balance.]
I swallowed hard. Failure of Balance? The words lingered, sharp and cold.
"Sis?" Hana's voice cut through the silence. She was leaning toward me, eyes narrowed. "What's wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost."
I blinked rapidly, the glowing text fading as suddenly as it had appeared. My breathing slowed, though my heart still hammered. I forced a small smile, shaking my head.
"Just… dizzy for a second," I murmured.
Hana frowned, unconvinced, but let it go. "You should lie back more. Don't push yourself."
I nodded faintly, sinking into the pillow. But my mind wasn't on rest. It was on the words only I had seen. Keeper of the Balance. Prepare the Vessel. Penalties worse than death.
Whatever had happened in that dungeon hadn't ended when I was carried out. It had only just begun.
I shifted against the pillows, pretending to adjust the blanket so Hana wouldn't notice the tremor in my hand. The glowing words were gone, but the memory of them still pulsed at the edge of my sight. Keeper of the Balance. Daily quests. Penalties.
I cleared my throat, trying to sound casual. "Hey, Sprout?"
She looked up from her phone, raising a brow. "Hm?"
"I had this… weird dream while I was out," I said, scratching at the IV tape like it was nothing. "Kind of like a game. You know—stats, classes, quests, all that."
Her face immediately lit up with interest, her exhaustion slipping for just a moment. "Like an RPG?"
"Yeah." I feigned a shrug. "But I don't play much, so I didn't really get it. How do stats even work in those things? Strength, agility, stamina—what do they actually mean?"
Hana leaned forward, already in lecture mode. "Strength's obvious. It's your raw power—lifting, hitting, carrying. Agility is speed and reflexes. Stamina is how much punishment you can take before you collapse. They're the basics."
I nodded slowly. Just like the screen showed me.
"And classes?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light.
"That's the fun part," Hana said, her eyes bright despite the shadows under them. "Classes define your role. Like, warriors are tanks, mages blast stuff, rogues are fast and sneaky. And summoners—" She hesitated, grinning faintly. "Summoners are tricky. Weak at first, but they can get terrifying once their summons evolve. You can't underestimate them."
I smiled faintly, filing the words away. "Right. Makes sense."
Hana tilted her head. "Why are you asking? You never cared when I explained it before."
"Just curious," I said quickly, forcing a laugh. "The dream was so detailed it got me thinking."
She eyed me suspiciously for a moment, then rolled her eyes. "You're weird, Søster." She settled back in her chair, crossing her arms. "But fine. If your dream had daily quests, then listen carefully: never skip them. They're basically free rewards every day, but if it's a hardcore system, skipping means penalties. Sometimes really bad ones."
My throat went dry. "Penalties?"
"Yeah. Like stat loss, durability drops, maybe even… character death, if the system's brutal enough." She shuddered, clearly thinking of one of her games. "Nightmare fuel, honestly."
I tried to laugh again, but it came out brittle. "Got it. No skipping daily quests."
Hana smirked and tapped her phone. "See? I knew my gaming addiction would be useful one day."
I leaned back against the pillow, forcing my face neutral even as my heart raced. Hana thought it was a dream, but I knew better. The quest window hadn't been a trick of my imagination.
My eyes grew heavier with each blink, my head sinking deeper into the pillow. I tried to keep listening to Hana chatter about some new game patch, but my breathing evened out and my grip on the blanket loosened. Within minutes, I was asleep.
Hana lowered her phone and just… watched her sister for a while. The rise and fall of Freya's chest, steady this time. Not like before. Not shallow and frightening, not the kind of breathing that made Hana think every second might be the last.
She let out a shaky sigh, slumping back in the chair. Her shoulders finally relaxed for the first time since the call had come from the Association. The memory still burned in her head—your sister was found alive, but critical. Words she never wanted to hear again.
"Idiot," Hana muttered softly, even as her fingers reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair from Freya's face. "Always running off, always coming back exhausted… Do you know what it does to me every time?"
Her throat tightened. She remembered Dad's body being carried back after that failed raid. She remembered Mom wasting away in the hospital bed, pale and fragile in a way that scared Hana even more than monsters did. And now Freya—the only person left—lying here with tubes and bandages, looking like she might slip away if Hana so much as blinked.
Tears stung her eyes, but she forced them down. She couldn't cry now. Not when Freya needed her to be steady.
She pulled the chair closer and rested her arms on the bedside, her head settling against them. "You're all I've got, Syrra," she whispered. "So don't you dare leave me too. Not you."
The monitor beeped steadily, calm and reassuring, almost like an answer. Hana stayed like that, listening to it until her own eyelids grew heavy. She drifted off beside her sister, keeping vigil even in her sleep.