The morning light filtered through the window. Warm on his face. Leo surfaced from sleep slowly, not jolting awake like usual. Just drifting up into consciousness.
The soreness was there. His ribs throbbed where Odessa's spear had caught him. His shoulders were stiff. Every muscle ached with small movements. But beneath the ache sat something else. A different kind of exhaustion. The good kind. Earned through living, not just surviving.
Last night played back in fragments. The city alive with evening energy. Iori laughing as she pulled him through crowds. Street performers juggling fire. Illusions blooming overhead. Music loud enough to feel in his chest. Food he couldn't name but devoured anyway. Strangers dancing. Leo joining them without the usual overthinking.
Be part of it, Iori had said. Get into the experience.
He had. For the first time since transmigrating, he had stopped calculating risks and just lived.
