The night arrived quickly.
I barely had any sleep. The silk sheets started feeling uncomfortable now.
It was too soft, too clean. Every time I closed my eyes, the blue hologram became visible behind my lids:
22 hours - 21 - 20.
I kept picturing the training yard tomorrow, trying to mindmap the plan.
Just a single slip. Either the system unlocks, or my head falls from my body.
Easy.
Stupid.
Terrifying.
The body wanted to relax, but my mind didn't let me.
Morning came, and the sun's brightness passed through the screens, bleaching the room in dark green. The same butler from yesterday stood in front, bowing so low his nose almost touched the floor.
Just take it easy, man.
"Young master. Breakfast is ready. Your sister is already in the garden. She wishes to see you before training."
Ah, yes, I had a sister.
I threw on the clothes left on the chair, a simple white sleeve and pants, but the fabric felt expensive even to my untrained fingers. No armour. No weapons. Just me and a body that supposedly knew magic.
'Really hope the muscle memory kicks in.'
The garden was incredibly beautiful. Flowers I couldn't name, but they looked like a fusion of many plants from Earth, fountains that emitted a soft sound instead of splashing, and there was a figure sitting there.
A girl, maybe sixteen, with red hair tied back in a double braid, sitting on a handmade stone bench. It looked like she was practising small spells, lights flickering around her hands: butterflies made of aura, a tiny dragon that puffed harmless smoke. When she saw me, she froze. The illusions popped like soap bubbles.
"Brother?" Her voice cracked on the word.
I stopped a few steps away. No name again. Just "brother."
"Hey," I said, lifting a hand like an idiot.
"Uh... morning?"
Fuck, this was awkward.
She stood up fast, eyes shiny. "You're really awake." She took one step, then another, then threw herself at me in a hug that knocked the breath out of me.
Smaller than Mother's embrace, but tighter and in the same way. Like if she let go, I would disappear.
'This guy was doted on heavily, huh?'
"I thought you were gone forever," she mumbled into my chest. "I kept making illusions of you, so I wouldn't forget your face."
I froze. What did you even say to that? "Guess the seer was right," I managed. "I'm... here."
It was probably hard seeing her brother's lifeless body.
She pulled back, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. "You look different. Not bad, different. Just... older? Or maybe I'm the one who grew up while you were sleeping."
"I mean, it was three years. People tend to age."
Awkward silence stretched.
"So... illusions?" I nodded at the spot where the dragon had been. "That's amazing."
Her face lit up. "Want to see?" Before I could answer, she flicked her fingers. A tiny version of me appeared between us, red hair, same face, waving awkwardly. It even copied my dumb half-wave from earlier.
I laughed despite myself. "That's creepy. And awesome."
She grinned, but it faded fast. "I practised every day. So when you woke up, I could show you I didn't forget." Her voice cracked again.
"I was scared you wouldn't remember me."
Shit. "I remember... enough," I lied.
"You're still the annoying little sister who steals my snacks, right?"
That's how these types of stories usually go.
She punched my arm, light, playful. "You're the one who always hid the good ones under your bed!"
We both laughed. It felt weirdly real. Like maybe this body had memories after all, buried somewhere.
"Come on," she said, grabbing my wrist. "Father's waiting in the yard. He's been pacing like a trapped tiger since dawn."
The training yard was behind the palace, a big ground that had weapon racks and targets scarred from years of use. Father stood in the centre, arms crossed, wearing plain black training gear. No fancy armour. Just presence. The air around him felt heavier, exhibiting an intimidating pressure.
He saw us and nodded once. "Good. You're here."
Sister let go of my wrist. "Be careful, okay?" She squeezed my hand once before stepping back.
I replied with a nod.
Father tossed me a wooden training sword.
"Only the basics first. Show me what you remember."
I caught it.
The grip felt familiar, even if my brain screamed you've never held one of these.
We started slow. He demonstrated the stance, and I copied. He swung from the right, and I blocked. Each clash sent shivers up my arms.
He wasn't even trying, but the force still pushed me back, rattling my teeth.
"Good," he grunted after ten minutes. "Your stance is sloppy, but the instinct is there."
Yes, thank god.
I nodded, breathing hard. Sweat already dripped into my eyes. "Now," he said. "Real sword. No holding back."
He drew a real blade, long, curved, with a sharp edge gleaming. My stomach flipped. "Wait... live steel? Already?"
"You survived a coma. You can survive this." He stepped into the guard. "Come."
I hesitated.
Is this how a father treats a son who came back from the dead?
Then I remembered the timer: 18 hours left. This was it. My chance.
I charged, moving clumsily, trying to act desperate. He parried every move without a sweat, sidestepping lightly, and landed a hit on me. My body twisted, trying to "fall" into the blade.
But he was too fast. The control was extraordinary.
But my desire to live was even better. My foot slipped on loose dirt. I stumbled forward, right into the path of his upward swing.
Slash.
The blade bit deep across my chest.
The pain exploded near my heart. I dropped to my knees, blood soaking the tunic instantly. The sword clattered from my hand.
Father's eyes widened. "No...!"
I felt awful making a father do this, but it was necessary.
He dropped his weapon and caught me before I hit the ground. "Healer! Now!"
I gasped, my vision slowly darkening. Blood pooled under me, warm and thick.
Sister screamed from the side. "Brother!"
Then I heard footsteps from the side.
A new voice, deeper than Father's, rougher.
"What the hell happened?!"
I looked up through red haze.
So many redheads in this family.
A man, older, taller, same red hair but short, with scars on his cheek, armour still on like he'd ridden straight here from a fight. His eyes locked on mine.
"Little brother?" He dropped to his knees, hands hovering over the wound like he didn't know where to press. "You idiot. You just woke up, and you're already trying to die on me?"
He ripped his cloak off, pressing it against my wound. "Stay with me. Don't you dare."
Everything after that became hazy. I slowly lost my vision.
System, where are you?
But it felt like I was talking into nothing.
Just when I felt like I had a chance. A tear slowly streamed from my left eye. It might be too late for the potions, too, as the cut was deep.
Then in the darkness...
BEEP
[EVENT COMPLETED]
[YOUR SYSTEM IS ACTIVATING]
[SYSTEM IS ACTIVATED]
[DO YOU WANT TO STOP THE BLEEDING]
[YES/NO]
What kind of stupid question is this?
Everything became numb after that.