I slowly aantly fade bato awareness. The grouh me is soft, and my body doesn’t feel nearly as sore as I expected it to. When I crack my eyes open, I’m disorieo find vas overhead. I’m in a rge tent. Where am I? How did I get here?

  How did I get here alive?

  [Check,] Echo says.

  [Name: Nye]

  [Species: Dhampyr]

  [Css: Guardian]

  [Level: 19]

  [HP: 160/160]

  [Mana: 75/75]

  [Role: The Knight]

  I groggily gnce over all my stats. I leveled up.

  Because of the people I killed.

  The memories return to me fractured, more snapshots than plete ses. The smell of blood had been overwhelming. Bodies had littered the street. Everything painted red. And my etion, my eagero perpetuate the violehe Aegis—

  The shield cheerily brushes against my mind. Ah! Finally. Now that I’m awake, we go find something to fight again?

  I jerk upright, fear seizing my chest, but the weight of the shield on my arm keeps me from rising. Its red bands of magic are still strapped firmly around my forearm, but my sleeve has been cut away, and the bloody threads of its Blood Ward are no longer embedded in my skin. In a desperate panic, I try to add it to my Iory.

  The shield is fused and disappointed. But why? It thought we—

  [Crimson Aegis added to Iory.]

  The shield vanishes, its presen my mind abruptly snuffs out. I colpse bato the bed mat, gasping for breath, heart drumming against my ribs. I shiver despite the heat of the air and try to get my breathing under trol, but it feels like my throat is closing up. Instead of breathing slower, I pant faster—shallower. Static flickers over my vision, and darkness eats away at the edges. Blood rushes in my ears. It feels like I’m drowning all ain. Just breathe. Breathe!

  The tent fp snaps open, bright light slig through the dim. Even though all I see is his silhouette, from his frame and stance I immediately know it’s Quell. His sight fills me with relief.

  He takes one look at me, turns back to call, “Get Xamir!” then quickly es over to sit by my side.

  “Hey,” he says, g my shoulder. “You’re okay. It’s over.”

  It’s over. My mind spirals around those words, trying to tto their meaning, but it seems just out of reach. I dig my fingers into the beddih me ahe fabric rip between my cws. This only summons more horrific memories of my cws likewise tearing through people’s flesh.

  “I’m not okay,” I mao gasp out, and I squeeze my eyes shut before they tear up.

  Quell gently squeezes my shoulder as he shifts into a more fortable position, his leg brushing up against my side. I flinch.

  “You’re right,” he says softly. “That oor w on my part. But you’re safe. I’m safe. We’re all here.”

  I hear the tent fp open once more, hot light briefly spilling over my skin.

  “If I may, my prince,” Xamireb says.

  Quell pulls away, his presence vanishes from my side, and fear spikes once more. I turn my head, desperately looking for him, but he’s only stepped back to allow Xamireb to settle at my side. They spy a hand over my chest, faint light illuminatih their fingers.

  [Your ditions have beeified.]

  “They’re healthy,” they say. “Just disoriented. I apply a sedative.”

  “No,” I say, still struggling to catch my breath. But the panic that’s clutched my mind won’t let go, and it’s strangling all my self-trol. I don’t want to be sedated. I don’t want anything doo my mind. I try t this thought into words, but they crumble away.

  “Don’t worry, it’s harmless,” Xamireb says. The light ges shape, blooming into a white ring that desds toward my chest. I let out a strangled cry, grabbing at the araoid.

  Quell catches my hand instead, holdieady. “Hold on,” he says. “Just a little longer.”

  The light disappears into my chest, and a cooling wave ripples through my body. Involuntarily, the fight goes out of me. The tightness dissipates from around my chest. I drop my head bay bed roll and finally gulp in a deep, full breath. The rapid beating of my heart fades, and my vision and hearing gradually clear.

  [Soothing Spell plete.]

  “That is all I provide,” Xamireb says. “At least there is no physical damage that needs healing.”

  I he w. Nothing physical.

  “Thank you,” Quell says. “Please inform the captain they have awoken. That is all.”

  He sounds so serious. Sal.

  Xamireb bows their head as.

  I stare at the vas overhead as Quell sits by my side in silehe panic is gone, now repced with weariness, but the pain of what happened remains. My mind is clear and calm enough to prehend the horror without letting me fall into it. Even so, I turn my mind away, letting my thoughts go bnk. For several minutes I just exist and think about nothing at all.

  Finally I stir, and realize Quell is still holding my hand. “Sorry,” I mumble. I rex my grip, as it drop back to the bed.

  “You don’t have to talk about it,” he says.

  I’m gd he didn’t tell me I have nothing to be sorry for.

  Quell waits a moment when I don’t say anything else. “Well, I should let you rest.”

  “No!” I object. I’m not ready to be aloh my thoughts. “Don’t. I need a distra.”

  “Of course,” he says. “I stay. Is there anything in particur I offer? As a distra.”

  The real question is, is there anything safe to talk about that won’t send me down another spiral? “How long was I out?” I ask.

  “A night and a half,” Quell says. “We relocated after you found us. We’re still outside of the Oasis, but a fortable distance away. Liz has been using illusions to help keep us hidden.”

  “You had to lug me and the shield around with you,” I realize. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t…” I trail off, uo voice the thought.

  “We weren’t going to leave you out there!” Quell says, a tinge of anger c his words. I wonder if others had suggested exactly that.

  But I’d actually been w why they didn’t kill me. After what happehere’s no way Darian would have wao keep me or the Crimson Aegis around. She’s too practical for that—especially with Quell and Liz to protect.

  I g my arm, the ohat the Aegis had been attached to. “It didn’t try to hurt any of you?”

  “It’s beehe whole time,” Quell says.

  I wonder why. It seems to know not to hurt Quell, due to the Role Requirement’s effee, but I have no doubt it wouldn’t distinguish the others from Moonfall soldiers. They’re all just potential victories to the shield.

  I y eyes for a moment, partly from fatigue, aally bring up the Crimson Aegis’s stats. Stats I'd never really looked closely at before.

  [on: Crimson Aegis]

  [Durability: 100%]

  [Mana: 0]

  [Blood: 0%]

  [Influence: 2%]

  So that’s why. It ran out of juice. Without mana to activate its abilities and blood to power its Blood Ward, it’s been nothing more than a ventional—if not enormous—shield. That’s a small relief.

  I open my eyes once more to examine my arm, turning it over as I look for where it had stabbed its lines of blood into me. The same lihat had beeo force me into a Bloodlust. My stomaots at the reminder.

  “No scars,” I observe.

  “No injuries of any kind, actually,” Quell says. “You had plenty when you stumbled into our camp. Your hand was… well, it was bad. And a nasty wound on your side that was bleeding quite profusely. They scabbed over that first night. Everyone assumed it was due to your blood Affinity. But then the scabs came off, and as of tonight, the scars were gone. I told the others it was due to the Aegis’s influence.” He raises a questioning eyebrow.

  My lips twit the fai attempt at a smile. Even now, he ’t help but indulge his academic curiosity. Somehow, that familiarity is f.

  “It’s not the Aegis,” I say. “It’s part of the System thing I mentioned.”

  “Echo and stats,” he recalls. “The Role of Knight.”

  I nod. “And an ‘Iory’ that I put the Aegis in. Part of all this is that I have a passive healing ability as well. Health Regeion.”

  “Fasating,” Quell says, again elig a small smile from me. He’s so predictable. “It’s like no form of life ara I’m aware of. Healing magic is ultimately about speeding along natural processes, you see. Giving your body the resources to do what it does best. A healer could have closed your wounds that first night you sustaihem, but you would have had scars after they were through. You don’t. What you’re describing is less healing and more like… undoing.”

  I’d hought about it that way before. I guess I’d just assumed it was no different from the other kinds of magic they have here. But the idea that this magiot only healed me but… rewound the injury itself is a little uling. Is it rewinding the microtears in my muscles after each workout?

  Is it rewinding the effects of aging itself, sed by sed?

  “Hold on,” I tell Quell. “I o look into this.”

  Echo, what you tell me about passive health regeion? I ask. What is it actually doing?

  [Passive Health Regeiees the user’s Health Points.]

  Well that’s useless. Okay, what is HP then? How is it determined?

  [A user’s HP is determined by many physical factors, including species and individual vitality. It is representative of the amount of damage the user sustain before System Access is revoked and supp neurarum works disperse, iably resulting in the user’s death.]

  That’s a long-winded way to say “it’s how much damage you take before you die,” which makes me think there’s actually more to this expnation that I’m not uanding.

  What about other people? I ask her. I see Quell has HP. But he’s not in the System, is he?

  [Stats applied to individuals who are not System users are approximate quantities representative of individual qualities.]

  So HP works differently for people who are and aren’t in the System? I ask.

  [Affirmative.]

  Well that just got even weirder. And I don’t think it helped answer my initial question.

  I repeat Echo’s words aloud for Quell’s be, who is all too delighted to gain insight into my strange abilities.

  “She’s saying you’re strohan someone like me,” Quell says. “You’re being… magically sustained, beyond the limits of ordinary biology. At least, until your HP hits zero, it sounds like. Then the supportive magic falls apart and you’re as dead as anyone else.”

  “Lovely,” I grumble. But odd. It also leads to a whole new batch of questions. Ones I probably should have been w about before now. I’ve just been so tied up in finding my brother and ending my ties to Quell, I didn’t stop to think it all through.

  Why am I part of this System? I ask Echo. How e Quell doesn’t have access? Why does it exist?

  [The user met baseline requirements for System iion,] Echo says, effectively saying nothing at all. [This adapted iteratios to assist in the progression of a user’s abilities.]

  I mean, I kind of see that with the Health Regeion and stats and whatnot. But how does my Role fit intressing my abilities?

  [Role fun established by #NULL.]

  The fuck?

  I rey all this to Quell, too.

  He frowns. “Like, null ara?”

  “I don’t think so,” I say. “I think it’s more in the sense of something being bnk. Like there’s a gap or error in Eemory.” She’d bnked out when I’d tried digging about my Role when I was in the Lifespring, too.

  “Curious,” Quell murmurs, frowning in thought. “We’re unc something I’ve never seeioned in as about any field of magic, from any try or culture. I don’t know if there’s anyone in the whole world we could speak with who might have insight on this affair.”

  “I think of one.” I recall the night I first arrived in this world. “Hans had access to the System, too. He also had a role.” I meet Quell’s gaze. “And that Champion knew what he was. I think the gods are trying to keep it quiet.”

  Quell leans back, blinking. “That’s a… disturbing theory.”

  “Do you think it’s wrong?” I ask.

  He’s quiet for a long moment. “No.”

  Goosebumps prickle over my arms. “What should we do?”

  “We do… nothing.” He sighs. “At least, not at this moment. It’s an intriguing mystery, to be sure, but I’m not sure how to even start iigating. First we have to deal with the here and now.”

  “ht.” I start to sit up, and Quell scoots back, ed.

  “Are you sure you should be getting up?” He pauses. “Well, I know we’ve just established you’re perfectly healthy, but really, there’s o push yourself.”

  “I’m not pushing myself,” I say, pausing after I sit up. My head pounds from the motion, and I wince.

  “See!” Quell says, catg the look.

  “It’s just a headache,” I grumble. “I think I’m dehydrated. Get me some water and I’ll be fine.”

  “Ah, of course.” Quell immediately hops up to retrieve a water skin from the other side of the tent. “You would be dehydrated, given…”

  He coughs, iively obsg the fact that he trailed off, and hands me the water skin as he sits back down. I take it, a new pit settling in my stomach.

  “Given all the bloodloss,” I say, pleting his thought.

  He nods weakly.

  I pop the end off the water skin, eyes unfocused as I stare down into its funnel. Somehow, I’d mao push all thoughts of that night away. Quell really had mao distract me for a time. But I ’t pretend like none of it happened. I o face what I did.

  I take a sip of the water, but it seems to sour on my tongue. I cap it once more and look up at Quell. His gaze is sad, yet uanding.

  “I killed people.”

  “Yes,” Quell says. “You did. You killed people the first night we met as well. It saved my life. And the ht—I mean, it was basically self-defense.”

  I wi didn’t feel like self-defe felt like a sughter. “I still wish it hadn’t happened. I… I don’t know how to live with this, Quell. I feel like most of the time I just try not to think about it. And that helps make it feel more distant. But that’s nht, is it? I shouldn’t just ig and move on with my life. Those were people.”

  “I don’t have answers for you,” Quell says softly. “I know many soldiers are said tle with simir thoughts. It’s not something that be undone, so… I suppose it is something that you will always carry with you, one way or another. But Nye. You uand none of it was your fault, right?”

  “I know,” I say, setting the water skin aside as I tuck my knees up to my chest. I rest my arms and on top, letting out a heavy sigh. “Rationally, I know. But it’s hard to feel that it’s true. I mean, I was still in there. I was still thinking and I was still me, sort of, everything was just… ed. So I have all these memories of doing terrible things and enjoying it. How am I supposed to e to terms with that?”

  “I don’t have answers,” he repeats. But he doesn’t say it in a way that’s dismissive. The way he says it, it’s like he’s saying, “I’m sorry. I wish I could help.”

  We watch each other in a strange, fortable silence. A sort of radery. If the Lifespring ’t sever my tie to Quell—in fact, I’m beginning to suspemon magic will be capable of such a feat—then we’re going to be stuck together for a while. And I think, maybe, I live with that.

  It’s being stuck with the shield I’m worried about now.

  The eye tact is starting to get unfortably long, so I break it off. My gaze falls to his neck.

  Those memories rush bae all at once.

  “Oh my god.” Heat spreads ay cheeks and neck, and I quickly bury my fa my knees. “Oh my god. I—Did I really—”

  “What?” Quell sounds ed. “Are you alright?”

  I desperately scrub my knuckles into my cheeks. dhampyrs blush? Is it obvious or invisible, given the gray skin?

  “What is it?” Quell urges, now sounding genuinely worried. “Do you need Xamireb to e back?”

  “No! No.” I look up at him, wishing I could sink into the ground.

  “Then what?” he asks, baffled.

  I swallow and try to blurt it out, but it es out as a whisper. “I licked your neck.”

  Now it’s Quell’s turn to die of mortification. His expression freezes, and then he’s looking anywhere but me. “Ah, yes, that, ah, was definitely… unnerving.”

  I bury my fa my hands. “I could have killed you.”

  “Yet, you didn’t,” Quell says. “Which I very much appreciate.”

  I ’t look at him again. Oh god, and I’m stuck with him, too. There will be no esg this.

  Luckily, we’re both saved from digging our way out of that versatiohe tent fp opens once more, and Darian steps inside. She passes a cool look over us both.

  “You’re awake,” she observes. “How do you feel?”

  I will the blush to drain from my face, but I might as well be willing the moon to ge phases. “Fine,” I say, refusing to look at Quell. “Healed. And… myself again.”

  “Good.” The captaiures for us to get up. “Then we o get moving. There’s little time to waste.”

  “Why?” I ask, already using the excuse to scoot away from Quell.

  “Ear has spotted Prince staroops,” Darian says. “They’re heading for the Oasis.”