A transparent, barely visible aura covered the mercenary. He unleashed a storm of deadly blows upon Arthur, each strike like a hammer against an anvil. Arthur could only desperately evade and parry, his muscles burning with the strain. The difference in speed was terrifying, yet Arthur moved with precise efficiency, each motion honed to its limit, not a single wasted gesture.

  He saw each strike, but no opening for a counterattack presented itself – the mercenary's monstrous strength and speed gave him no chance. The blows landed heavily, but at least they were predictable, especially for a master of Arthur's level. Arthur continued to retreat, sliding backward across the dusty ground, narrowly escaping death each time.

  "How the hell are you evading my attacks without Ether?!" the mercenary roared, his voice laced with disbelief.

  He grew more enraged, his eyes bloodshot and blinded by fury. His attacks got wilder and easier to predict. But Arthur’s new body couldn’t take much more. Every muscle screamed. Pain shot through his joints. A few more seconds at this pace, and the pain would become paralyzing, robbing him of the ability to evade the inevitable blow.

  If this brute kills me, will I just wake up in Chronos Labs? This thought, cold and detached, flickered through his mind as he continued the deadly dance.

  Their tense battle was abruptly interrupted by a warrior who materialized with startling speed. A powerful kick crashed into the mercenary's side, sending him flying with the force of a hurricane toward a rough stone wall. The stone cracked and crumbled from the impact.

  The savior was unarmored, clad in dark leather bearing the emblem of Isla's guards - the head of an animal somewhat resembling a bear with long, pointed ears. He exuded an aura of unwavering reliability and calm confidence; one could feel the power hidden beneath the casual exterior – clearly a very strong warrior. He looked around forty years old, but short gray hair, contrasting with his dark eyebrows, betrayed a more mature age, as if time had left its marks on him.

  "Valerian!" Isla exclaimed joyfully, her voice laced with notes of relief and genuine happiness.

  "Are you alright, young lady?" Valerian stood motionless, pointing his sword, long and straight, at the mercenary, who was slowly rising, staggering. The warrior was enveloped in a light, transparent aura, a barely noticeable glow, as if the air around him was trembling with hidden energy.

  "I'm fine, Valerian, protect the librarian, he helped me," Isla's voice trembled from the stress she had endured, but there was firm resolve in it.

  Arthur was still standing in a fighting stance, his legs shaking from fatigue, barely holding him up, his body trembling. Valerian cast a quick, assessing glance at him, scanning his condition with the experienced eye of a warrior.

  "Your display was nothing short of extraordinary, librarian, though I fear this foe is beyond the reach of one without Ether. Allow me," his voice was calm and even.

  They keep babbling about Ether, is this the local magic? Anyway, as long as that devil is still breathing, one can't let their guard down, Arthur thought, not entirely trusting the sudden savior, although the aura of confidence emanating from Valerian was almost tangible.

  The mercenary, wheezing and spitting blood that stained the grass crimson, struggled to his feet, his breathing heavy and ragged. He too was surrounded by a trembling, transparent aura, but unlike Valerian's calm glow, this aura was tense and pulsating. He snatched his sword, jagged and bloodied, and adopted a shaky fighting stance, his eyes burning with hatred and a thirst for revenge.

  Arthur, despite his fatigue, kept his eyes on both warriors, ready to intervene at any moment, though he understood that he would hardly be able to help in a fight between combatants who were apparently using magic.

  Suddenly, Valerian took only one step forward, and as soon as his foot touched the ground, a deafening sound rang out, and he was in an instant next to the mercenary, right in front of him. Arthur blinked, not believing his eyes – he had not even managed to track his movement, as if Valerian had dissolved into thin air and reappeared, covering ten meters in one inconceivable moment.

  The mercenary, clearly not expecting such speed, froze in shock, his eyes widened with horror, but it was already too late. While Valerian leisurely put his sword back into its sheath, the mercenary's body fell into two perfectly even pieces, drenching the emerald-green grass with a fountain of hot, dark blood.

  What the fuck is going on here? flashed through Arthur's mind, his reason refusing to accept what he had seen. The world tilted and blurred. His legs finally buckled, and he collapsed to the ground.

  The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Closing his eyes, through the haze of fatigue and oncoming darkness, he still managed to hear Isla excitedly telling Valerian about what had happened, about the librarian’s help, and that they should immediately take him away from here. The voices sounded farther and quieter, until they completely dissolved in the encroaching darkness.

  Arthur abruptly opened his eyes, as if jolted awake, and found himself lying in the familiar Chronos Labs capsule. He was back. The return echoed in his body with a dull, throbbing headache. Everything was blurry and hazy; the effect was almost identical to the sensations after traveling to the Other Side. Through the thick glass of the capsule, the silhouettes of people in white coats could be vaguely seen. They were chaotically darting around, their movements revealed panic and excitement.

  After a torturous minute of waiting, the capsule began to open with a soft hiss, releasing clouds of cool vapor. Senior Specialist Noah, unkempt, with tousled hair and bulging eyes, rushed to Arthur, looking up at him.

  "You...you were in another world?!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking on a high note of excitement.

  "Isn't that what I'm here for? What a stupid question, Arthur thought, irritated by the absurdity of the moment and his own headache.

  "Um...yes, of course, we just...didn't expect that we'd find a compatible candidate so quickly...So...what was it like there?" Noah stammered, losing his words from an excess of emotion, his face became flushed.

  "Get this thing off me first," Arthur struggled to sit up from the uncomfortable bed, still feeling the weight of the helmet on his head.

  The other scientists rushed to the capsule, hastily starting to unscrew, twist, and yank wires, and finally, the helmet was removed. With each passing second, more and more personnel, attracted by the noise and commotion, crowded in front of Arthur, all looking at him with undisguised curiosity and awe.

  "Well, tell us what happened to you! The neurological feedback, the environmental variables!" Noah was already red with impatience.

  Arthur, gathering his strength, began to tell the story, trying to reproduce all the details he remembered – how he woke up in another body, the body of the librarian Aren, about the strange world, full of dangers, and, of course, about the battle that had almost cost him his life. As he spoke, Arthur seemed to be listening to himself, and gradually, slowly but surely, began to realize the colossal importance of what had happened, what revolution had just taken place, standing on the threshold of the unknown.

  "Incredible! You actually jumped! The readings... they're solid!" Noah gripped his tablet, his knuckles white. "We did it! This changes everything. I... I have to inform Mr. Albright immediately!" With these words he was about to rush off.

  "What about the credits?" Arthur's voice cut through Noah's excited rambling. He suddenly remembered why he had gotten involved in this insane enterprise in the first place, the credits he so desperately needed.

  Noah turned sharply, as if he had been doused with ice water.

  "Mr. Steelhart," Noah coughed, trying to regain a semblance of seriousness, "you...you are now fully supported by Chronos Labs, of course. A million credits...that's, of course, a trifle, the accountants will transfer them to you in the near future, but you don't have to worry about money anymore, Mr. Steelhart, you...you are our most valuable asset!" With those words, the Senior Specialist adjusted his glasses and, having finally forgotten about credits, rushed off to report on the miracle that had happened, leaving behind a trail of excited exclamations and bewildered looks.

  Another scientist, who had been silently observing the scene, approached Arthur. He was younger than Noah, about forty, lean, with narrow eyes and thin, tightly compressed lips, his gaze sharp and assessing.

  "Mr. Steelhart, my name is Ethan," he introduced himself with restraint. "I must perform a couple of routine tests to make sure that you are in good health; this is standard procedure. And after that, you will be taken to your new apartments."

  Arthur only nodded wearily in response. He had no strength left for any further conversation; the jump into another world had wrung all the juice out of him. Ethan ran a portable scanner over his body, which buzzed quietly as it slid across his skin, then spent a minute carefully reading the scan report on his tablet.

  "Except for severe emotional fatigue and mild dehydration, you are in perfect order, Mr. Steelhart. We will finish for today; we will not overload you. Please rest and recover your strength, tomorrow will be a big day," With these words, Ethan turned and waved his hand to two silent assistants in Chronos Labs uniforms, who were standing some distance away, and then, nodding goodbye, left, leaving Arthur in the care of the staff.

  The assistants approached Arthur carefully, avoiding direct eye contact. One spoke in a quiet, almost hushed voice.

  "Mr. Steelhart, we will take you to your new apartments. If you wish, tomorrow we will send our people to bring everything you need from your old place of residence. In the meantime, please follow us," said one of them in a quiet, almost whispered, voice.

  They led him to another wing of Chronos Labs, quite far from the noisy testing area. They walked along an endless corridor, the walls of which were painted in a sterile beige-white color, with orange accents, with many identical doors on both sides. The assistants stopped and respectfully stepped aside near one of the doors, clearly different from the others in its size and solid appearance.

  Arthur, nodding to them in gratitude, went inside. He found himself in a spacious apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows showing a stunning view of the glittering city lights far below. Soft lighting glowed on polished floors and plush furniture.

  After the shower, which he desperately needed judging by the staff's reaction, he wrapped himself in a soft terry robe. Then, he collapsed without strength onto a huge, cloud-like bed, sinking into silk sheets and down pillows, even though it was still the middle of the day. Fatigue finally claimed him, pulling him into darkness. But even as sleep took over, one thought echoed: That place... was it even real?