Emma's expression shifted as confusion and anger became something even colder. Without warning, she seized the front of Kurt's shirt and yanked him forward until their noses nearly touched.
"Can you believe this piece of shit," she whispered to no one in particular, then her gaze adjusted to meet his. "I don't know what game you're playing, but it's not funny."
Kurt didn't flinch. If anything, he looked bored. He met her stare with an almost lazy confidence.
"Sweetheart," he said casually. "if this is a joke, I'm the punchline. I haven't the faintest bloody clue who you are."
For a brief moment, Emma froze, thrown off by how casually he said it. Her grip slackened, then she released him entirely and stepped back, eyes searching his face intensely for cracks, lies, anything.
"You're serious," she said slowly.
"As a morgue slab." Kurt tugged the wrinkles out of his shirt. "Though I've got to say... hell of an introduction. Makes a bloke feel downright cherished."
Behind her, Rook rose from his seat and started toward them. His presence swept across the bar with a subtle but unmistakable 'don't fuck with me' energy, impossible to ignore, as the nearest patrons suddenly pretended to be fascinated by their drinks.
"Emma," Rook called in a calm but authoritative manner. "What's going on?"
Still not taking her eyes off Kurt, she replied, "Remember Kurt Manchester? The waste of space that died three days ago in the Fang dungeon."
Suddenly, a blue notification flashed across Kurt's vision.
[QUEST COMPLETE: Discover Your Identity]
Reward: 5 Points
Available Points: 8
Kurt blinked at it, then dismissed the screen. The idea of what a quest meant becoming clearer now.
Rook's darkened gaze settled on him. "That's impossible."
Kurt kept staring, unbothered. "Well, I've always been rubbish at staying properly dead. Nasty habit of mine, that."
Rook stepped closer, blue eyes narrowing like he was trying to read Kurt's soul. "You don't remember us?"
"Don't remember anything, mate. Not you, not her, not the sorry sod I was before I woke up in that charming alley." Kurt ran his fingers through his messy hair. "I've got nothing but my clothes and a head full of fog where my past should be. I certainly don't know why you're both looking at me like I crawled out of my own grave."
"Because you did," Emma snapped, hands curling into fists at her sides. "This is bullshit. He's lying. Probably another con of his."
"Maybe," Rook answered evenly. "Or maybe something happened to him in that dungeon."
Kurt stubbed out his cigarette in the tray and stood. He was roughly the same height as Rook, though the other man had at least fifty pounds of muscle on him and looked like he could bench press a small car. "Look, whatever you think I am, I've got no clue. I woke up today confused and cranky. If I knew you before, darling, I certainly don't now."
Emma's grey eyes blazed, but Rook's hand on her shoulder held her in place.
"We need to talk," Rook said. "Somewhere private."
Kurt eyed them both. Emma, barely containing her fury, and Rook, unnaturally calm. Something in his gut tugged sharply. Whoever they were, whatever they knew… he needed it.
"Alright then," he said. "Lead on."
***
The guild was a repurposed warehouse tucked in a forgotten corner of Cape City in the D-rank district, where struggling guilds and failed hunters scraped by.
Rook guided them through a side entrance while Emma remained close enough behind Kurt that he could feel her presence like a knife at his back.
Inside, the space stretched wide: half-headquarters, half makeshift home. Mismatched furniture, battered couches, a bar counter by the edge and a torn pool table.
Weapons lined the walls, everything from blades to firearms to objects Kurt didn't recognize but assumed were essence-enhanced. A few people stared openly as the trio entered, shock written plainly on their faces.
"No fucking way," someone murmured.
"Everyone out," Rook said and the room emptied so fast you'd think someone yelled "fire."
Then he gestured at a couch. "Sit."
Kurt dropped onto it, lighting another cigarette, while Emma paced in front of him like a caged animal, her movements occasionally drawing Kurt's attention to her.
"You're telling me you remember nothing?" she demanded. "Not the jobs we ran? Not the people we lost? Not—" She cut herself off and turned away, her jaw working like she was chewing on words she didn't want to say.
Kurt watched her over his cigarette. Even furious, she was magnetic and commanded attention. "Blank as a nun's swear jar," he replied. "Sorry to disappoint."
Rook leaned against a table, arms crossed. "You died three days ago. Cave horror did you in."
Kurt tapped ash onto the floor. "Well, clearly I got better. Medical miracle, that."
Emma spun around. "This a fucking joke to you?!"
"No, love, it's not," Kurt said, his tone shifting from flippant to serious. "But what do you want me to say? I don't remember dying. Don't remember the dungeon. Don't remember you. And trust me, that last part seems like a real tragedy."
Her expression moved from surprise to something that might have been pain before anger swallowed it again.
Rook held up a hand before she could respond, and Emma fell silent, though her glare remained. "If you're telling the truth, and that's a big if, then something happened in that dungeon that changed you."
Kurt hesitated. The System wasn't something he wanted to explain, but the resurrection was impossible to hide.
"I can't die," he said simply.
The words froze the room.
Rook's eyes narrowed and Emma stopped pacing altogether.
"What do you mean you can't die?" Rook asked.
Kurt sighed. "I mean I died in that dungeon just like you said. Got properly fucked up... crushed, mangled, all the fun bits. And then I woke up. Alive. Healed. With something new in my head telling me I've got a gift for resurrection." He paused. "Which sounds lovely until you realize it means I have to die to use it."
He focused, and the translucent screen appeared in his vision. He glanced at it, though he knew they couldn't see it.
"And before you ask," Kurt added, "no, there's no manual. I checked. Just a screen in my head telling me I've died once, and there's a whole bloody progression system I don't understand yet."
Rook closed the distance, gaze locked on Kurt. "Prove it."
Kurt raised an eyebrow. "You want me to die? Right here? Bit forward, isn't it?"
"Yes," Rook said plainly.
Emma shot him a look. "Rook—!"
"If he's telling the truth, he'll return. And if he's lying, we've got a body to get rid of."
Kurt sighed. "Well, if we're gonna dance, let's dance. Try to make it quick, yeah?"
***
A/N: I hope you're enjoying this so far. Add to Library and send a power stone or two if you're. Thank you and peace!