Later that night, the apartment was quiet again.
Victoria had gone to bed, the dishes washed, the music gone.
Merlin sat alone in his room, the faint hum of the system lingering at the edge of hearing.
He opened his hand and watched a flicker of mana dance between his fingers, thin and pale, laced with something… foreign.
It shimmered not like his usual affinities, but like liquid light.
Unfamiliar. Unstable.
[Unregistered energy detected.]
[Containment level: Stable — for now.]
Merlin frowned. "You were silent for hours. Why speak now?"
No response. Just that faint, rhythmic pulse again, deeper this time, resonating with his heartbeat.
He stood and crossed to the window, pushing it open. The night air rolled in cool and damp, brushing against his face.
Below, the city was alive. But from here, it felt far away, small. Fragile.
He closed his eyes.
'…I'm really here, aren't I?'
The question was quiet, but it lingered.
