The world smelled faintly of disinfectant and boiled rice.
Gilran blinked awake to find himself staring at the plain white ceiling of a hospital room. The faint hum of an old air-conditioning unit filled the silence, broken only by the occasional beep from a heart monitor beside his bed.
He sat up slowly, muscles stiff but responsive.
The last thing he remembered was the cold stone floor of the dungeon tunnel, Jin-Woo helping him limp toward the Gate's shimmering exit… and the heavy feeling of the Heaven Gate opening in his mind.
Now, he felt different. Stronger. Sharper. Every sound, every scent, every heartbeat within a dozen meters was distinct.
A soft knock at the door.
"Hyung? You awake?"
Jin-Woo stepped in, holding two steaming cups of vending machine coffee. His arm was bandaged, but he moved without any visible pain.
"Shouldn't you be the one lying down?" Gilran asked, raising an eyebrow.
Jin-Woo grinned weakly. "The doctors said I just need rest. You, on the other hand, got a spear through the ribs. How are you even… alive?"
Gilran took the coffee, sipping it slowly. The warmth helped anchor him.
"Guess I'm hard to kill," he said with a small smirk. "Comes with age."
But inside, his mind was replaying the System notifications the Blood Summoning, the Heaven Gate, the Progenitor's voice still echoing faintly in his ears.
Once Jin-Woo left to bring food from the cafeteria, Gilran leaned back and closed his eyes.
The moment he did, the Heaven Gate stirred.
It wasn't a physical door, but a mental construct a towering arch of silver and crimson that opened into an infinite vault. The air within was heavy with the scent of ancient iron and incense.
Shelves upon shelves stretched beyond sight, each holding:
Vials of blood glowing with ethereal light.
Weapons sealed in runic bindings.
Scrolls whispering in forgotten tongues.
Armour forged from materials he didn't have names for.
And in the far corner, ten massive pedestals — only three lit — representing his current King-tier access.
Gilran approached the nearest pedestal.
Floating above it was a small crystal vial filled with thick, molten-gold liquid.
> [Race Blood: High Dragon – Elder Lineage]
Grants one racial ability upon ingestion.
His pulse quickened. The System whispered:
> [Consume? Y/N]
He hesitated. Power was tempting, but reckless power was just another way to die early.
Instead, he reached for something smaller — a vial marked with swirling silver and blue patterns.
> [Race Blood: Frost Wolf Alpha]
Grants: Arctic Step – Movement creates trails of frost, increasing speed and freezing terrain briefly.
This felt… manageable.
The moment the drop touched his tongue, it was as if ice exploded in his veins. He clenched his fists, teeth gritting against the sudden cold that spread through his limbs. Then, it settled — leaving behind a subtle tingling in his muscles.
> [Skill Gained: Arctic Step Lv.1]
Gilran stood, testing it. A single step forward left a faint frost pattern on the hospital tile, vanishing within seconds. Fast, controlled… useful for escapes.
The door clicked open again. Jin-Woo entered with two bowls of instant ramen and a grin.
"Brought food. And before you argue, yes, it's the cheap kind. We're broke."
Gilran chuckled, sitting back down. "Better than hospital porridge."
They ate in comfortable silence, the kind only family could share.
That night, after Jin-Woo fell asleep in the chair beside him, Gilran stared at the dark ceiling.
His instincts told him the Double Dungeon wasn't an accident. Something had chosen both of them.
And whatever that something was…
It had just placed the fate of their world — maybe more than one world — into bloodstained hands.