Instead of cold, the darkness was soothing, gentle even, like a soft blanket pulled over an exhausted soul. Or perhaps it was the silence that made it so comforting, the kind of quiet only night could offer.
Xion floated in it, detached from the pain, the panic, and far from the blood still drying on his hands.
His body had collapsed. He recalled that much. He remembered Darius too... and the unbearable relief of seeing all that filthy mana away from his body.
He hoped that meant the pain had stopped.
[Host.]
The system's voice echoed like a ripple across a still lake. It shattered the calm Xion had been floating in.
[You're stabilized. Barely though. I've initiated the mission protocol. And this time... you don't get a choice.]
Choice? When did he ever have one to begin with?
Xion wanted to respond sarcastically, or maybe even with a bite of bitterness. Anything really, but his throat wouldn't move.
