When I woke up the next morning, I had that weird sensation one gets after a dream that felt too real. The room felt familiar but heavier somehow, like it remembered what happened last night better than I did.
So naturally, I stood up and then realized I wasn't wearing a shirt. Or anything particularly decent. Which, honestly, was fine. I'd been through nine months of borderline torture in a training domain, so modesty wasn't exactly a top priority anymore. Then I saw myself in the mirror and froze.
"Okay, what the hell happened to me?"
It was like looking at someone I sort of knew. Like my hair, for starters. It was still long, wavy, and gloriously crimson yes, that much I expected, but the underside was completely silver. Shimmering, even. I swear it glowed faintly when I tilted my head. My hair glows now. I could probably be used as a lantern in emergencies. Then there were my eyes. They were the same silver irises, but brighter. Not "reflecting light" bright, more like emitting it. I blinked a few times, thinking maybe I was still seeing afterimages from last night's beam explosion, but they stayed that way.
My skin had changed too. What used to be a fair tan had deepened into this rich, warm bronze tone. It was darker, sun-kissed, and, if I may say so myself, kind of radiant. It's probably a side effect of my master deciding to set me on fire every other day during training. The man's idea of mentorship was "immolate him until he stops screaming." But it did have some perks. Apparently, the Argemenes body constitution adapted so well to extreme heat that I now looked like I was sculpted from sunset metal.
And yes, the muscles were there.
Not the bulky "I live in a gym" kind, but the lean, sharp, divinely proportioned kind. Every flex and breath made my reflection look like it belonged on a mural of ancient heroes. I lifted my arm experimentally and the thorned tendrils etched into my skin moved with me. The black markings spiraled up from the back of my hands to my elbows.
Then I caught sight of my collarbone. The tattoo of the Crown of Thorns was there. It was the same sigil that appeared in the void when I met my Flux, except now it was part of me. I tilted my head, thinking about it… and suddenly, the crown itself materialized above my head in a soft hum of light. I forgot it appears during the day.
I grinned, testing it a few times to summon, vanish, summon, vanish and so on. It worked like a charm. At least I wouldn't have to worry about it floating around randomly anymore and making people think I was trying to start a new religion.
Oh, and I was at the Fourth Awakening. I still couldn't believe it. Nine months in a deathtrap dimension with Seirath, and somehow, I made it. I wasn't just a survivor. I reached the same level as Xaessia herself. I'm an Ennèa Category of the Fourth Awakening just like her. Just thinking about her made me smirk. I really want to fight her now.
It wasn't even arrogance — okay, maybe a little — but after all that pain, all that relentless training, I wanted to see how far I'd come. My gaze drifted down to my chest and abs. The muscle definition was… let's say it was amazing.
My bangs had grown longer during the months inside the domain, falling slightly over my eyes now. I thought about trimming them at first, but then I remembered the old Argemenes tradition. No Argemenes would have a haircut until a new House Ruler is crowned. It's symbolic. So, yeah. No scissors near this masterpiece.
I ran my fingers through the mix of crimson and silver, watching the faint glow trace along my strands. It felt weirdly comforting, like I could feel the Flux running through every fiber of me now.
"But damn… I really do look good."
When I turned around from the mirror, still half-admiring how stupidly perfect my hair looked in the morning light, the door clicked open. I hadn't even sensed anyone approach which, considering how sharp my perception had become, said something.
Hinesia stepped inside quietly, holding something wrapped in soft blue silk. Her movements were calm but when her eyes landed on me — or rather, on the fact that I was standing half-naked in the middle of the room — she froze mid-step. For a moment, we just stared at each other. Me, like an idiot caught off guard, and her, like someone who just walked in on something she shouldn't dee.
"Morning." I said, trying to sound casual while hastily reaching for a discarded shirt.
She blinked twice, sighed deeply like she was reconsidering her entire existence, then walked over and extended the wrapped box toward me.
"Happy birthday, Phaser."
"Birthday?"
"You seriously didn't know?"
"I.. wait. Hold on. My birthday's today?"
"Yes. July 20th. MoDS says it's the day Phasnovterich Richinaria was born. Or you, rather."
I just stood there for a second, feeling that strange mental flicker again that came whenever my memories tangled between Phasnovterich and me. July 20th… of course. How could I forget that?
"Guess I've been a little busy surviving hell training for nine months."
Hinesia's expression softened a bit. "So you really didn't remember."
"No. Honestly, I forgot birthdays were even a thing."
I sat down on the edge of the bed and turned the small box over in my hands. It was featherlight, or maybe I was just too strong now to notice its weight.
"Still, thanks. You didn't have to."
"I know. But I wanted to."
For a few seconds, silence lingered between us. Then I glanced up, remembering something.
"Hey… I have to go to Antarctica today."
Her eyes flickered slightly, but she didn't look surprised.
"I know. The Days of the Departed begin today."
"Yeah. My family's expecting me… or at least, I like to think they are. Before I went into the domain, I told myself I'd go home after training. I just didn't expect time to pass so differently in there."
Hinesia looked at me for a long moment, her voice softening.
"You've been gone for nine months, Phaser. You should go. Your dad has to be healed, right?"
"Yeah…"
She held the present a little closer toward me again.
"Then take it before you leave."
I took it carefully, feeling the faint energy hum beneath the silk wrapping. Whatever it was, it carried her Xana signature. I couldn't help but smile. Who knew she would be this sweet?
"Thank you, Hinesia."
"You're welcome."
For a moment, I thought about asking her to come with me. Maybe it'd be nice to have company on the trip. But before I could speak, she shook her head gently, almost as if reading my mind.
"I can't. My mother's soul will be visiting for the next three days. Even if I'm… not the real Hinesia, I still want to see her and act like the daughter she remembers."
I looked at her quietly, then nodded. "I understand. Good luck, then."
I stood and stretched, letting my body hum with faint Void energy. In an instant, Igniferous Edge shimmered into existence. The armor reshaped itself into casual black travel clothes. A comfortable shirt, sleek pants, and a long coat materialized.
"Still dramatic, I see."
"This armor is amazing, you know."
I stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on her head. She froze for a second, probably not expecting that.
"I'll come back for you on the twenty-first. We'll go somewhere peaceful. You'll need it after… everything."
She tilted her head slightly but nodded.
"Alright."
"Tell your father I've gone," I added, stepping toward the door.
"Will do. Bye Phaser."
As I walked down the hallway, I realized that time perception was really messing with me. Now I have to be careful with the Chronological Palace. I don't want to lose my sense of time. After all, temporal spaces didn't make one older. Even though my hair grew, my age still was 22. I don't know how that works but physically, I'm not older. Mentally? Maybe.
When I reached the Fast Travel Room, I stopped for a moment. I slipped the gift Hinesia gave me into my System Inventory, feeling a little guilty I hadn't opened it yet but I wanted to do it later, when things felt calmer.
The Days of the Departed had arrived but to me, it was for another different reason.
Xaessia was out there somewhere, searching for the two flora species we needed. If she succeeded, then maybe we could heal Father before the Days ended. If not… by next year, he'd reach Stage Four. And once that happened, no one, not even I could cure him.
"Hang on, old man. We're not done yet."