Extra To Protagonist

Not drifting—suspended. Like something was holding him here. Not cruel. Not kind. Just… absolute.

Time didn't pass. Or if it did, it passed in spirals. Sometimes he heard things. Sometimes he remembered voices.

"You're not supposed to be here, you know."

"You wouldn't win."

"Something hungrier."

And then—

Silence.

He didn't know how long he stayed there.

Minutes. Hours. Years. All of it. None of it.

He tried to move. Nothing answered. No muscles. No limbs. Just a sense of self caught in a web of void.

'Where am I?'

The question echoed. It didn't come back.

Nothing came back.

Even the voices were gone now.

Even her voice.

Subject 0.

'Did I die then?'

No answer.

Just the dark.

He'd died before, technically. Back on Earth. If that can be counted as a death. Who knows.

Not dramatically. Not painfully. Just—blink. Over.

This felt worse.

Because he hadn't died.

Not yet.

He knew that instinctively. Like some part of him still recognized the edge between this and true oblivion. This wasn't death.

This was between.

A pause.

A breath before the sentence finishes.

And then—

He felt something.

A ripple through the void. Small. Distant. Like a string tugged across a canyon. But it was there.

He latched onto it.

Mana.

His mana.

Weak. Ragged. Half-broken.

But it hadn't abandoned him.

He followed it—no body, no eyes, just will. Pushing through the dark like a swimmer clawing through oil.

And something gave way.

Not loudly. Just… a shift.

Light.

Not bright.

Not warm.

Just gray.

His first breath came back like it had been stored in someone else's lungs. His ribs stung. His skin burned. His body screamed—but it was there.

He was in it again.

Pain was good.

Pain meant alive.

He choked once. Coughed twice. His eyes opened.

The ceiling was white.

Familiar.

The infirmary.

He blinked slowly.

Still here.

Still alive.

He turned his head slightly.

The sheets were too clean. The light was too soft. Everything smelled faintly of sterile magic and alchemy herbs.

He recognized the mana threads woven into the beds—healing circuits, mana stabilization, emergency bind-runes.

They'd used all of them on him.

He looked down.

His left arm was bound. His ribs were braced. His chest ached like something had caved it in.

But he was alive.

His voice came out in a rasp.

"…I'm back."

He closed his eyes.

'So why doesn't it feel like it?'

—

The white ceiling stared back at him.

Still. Cold. Perfectly smooth.

Merlin didn't move.

His body ached like something had peeled it apart and stitched it back wrong. Not all at once—but in layers.

The bruises were deeper than skin. The kind that didn't show but lived somewhere beneath the soul.

He inhaled slowly.

Then—

A blink.

White light flickered faintly across his vision.

He froze.

Then focused.

A familiar interface, warped at the edges like a cracked mirror, hovered before his eyes.

But it was different this time.

Damaged.

Torn.

Lines of text stuttered before resolving into something legible.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

Core Stability: 13%

Mana Circuits: Partially Disrupted

Soul Integrity: Compromised

Status: Critical Recovery Mode Engaged

Merlin's breath caught.

[WARNING: Affinity Access Temporarily Sealed]

[Wind — Inaccessible]

[Lightning — Inaccessible]

[Water — Inaccessible]

[Space — Inaccessible]

[Time — Inaccessible]

[WARNING: All Combat Skills Suspended]

[Mana Regulation: Severely Limited]

His fingers twitched.

No mana answered.

It felt like touching an empty socket—like the connection was there, but nothing flowed.

"…No," he whispered, voice barely audible.

Not fear.

Just disbelief.

He tried again. Just a trickle of lightning. Just one spark.

Nothing.

He reached deeper, tried pulling from his core—only to feel a stabbing jolt tear through his spine like static overload.

His hand spasmed.

[WARNING: Further Attempts May Result in Irreversible Damage]

"…You've got to be kidding me."

He gritted his teeth.

'I was fine. I was FINE. I walked. I fought. I survived.'

The memory clawed back.

Subject 0. Her smile. Her teeth. Her fingers curled around his throat. That last whisper against his neck before the world went black.

'You're not made for this…'

His hands curled into the bedsheets.

"…She did something to me."

Not a wound.

Not a spell.

Deeper than that.

Soul damage.

The words weren't just theory anymore. He'd read about it—fringe texts, banned rituals, ancient demonic arts. Injuries so deep they bypassed the physical and tore into the very structure of who you were.

And now?

He had it.

Merlin lay still for a long moment.

Then, slowly, he pulled his arm free from the binding.

Every movement hurt—but the pain felt distant. Secondary.

He sat up.

Or tried to.

His body shook. Cold sweat clung to his back.

'Thirteen percent core stability…'

No power.

No affinities.

Not even a single defensive thread of mana to shape around his skin.

He was—

"No better than a civilian," he muttered.

The words tasted like rust.

He let himself lean back again.

Head against the pillow.

Eyes on the ceiling.

Thoughts spiraling.

[System Recovery Estimated: Unknown]

[Condition: Unstable]

[Recommended: Absolute Rest]

He scoffed.

"…Yeah. Like that's ever worked out for me."

But deep down, a quiet knot of fear twisted in his chest.

Not from the pain.

Not even from the loss of power.

But from what came next.

'If I can't use my powers… I can't protect them.'

Elara. Nathan. The others. The entire world.

He hadn't just fought for survival.

He fought to change things.

To reshape a story that had always been too cruel.

And now?

He couldn't even light a candle with his mana.

His hand twitched against the blanket.

But his eyes didn't close.

Not yet.

Because even powerless—

He needed a plan.

Even broken—

He wasn't done.

Not by a long shot.

—

The infirmary doors weren't locked.

Which meant Elara didn't need to kick them open.

But she did anyway.

The sound echoed like a war drum through the pristine white hall.

Nathan was two steps behind her, holding a half-crushed paper cup of some weird academy vending machine tea he never got to drink. The scent of artificial lemon and regret followed him in.

Behind them, Adrian and Liliana trailed, less dramatic but no less determined.

The healer on duty blinked up from their desk, startled. "Excuse me—!"

"Later," Elara said, not even slowing.

Nathan gave the healer an apologetic two-finger wave. "She's emotional. Let her have this."

They rounded the corner and—

Stopped.

He was awake.

Merlin sat upright on the cot, one arm resting across his lap. His posture was stiff, more statue than human, but his eyes were open—sharp gold cutting through the dim light like twin blades.

"…Merlin?" Liliana whispered, stepping forward.

He didn't respond. Not at first. Just watched them like he wasn't sure they were real.

Nathan felt his breath catch for a second.

Then he grinned. "Holy shit. You look like hell."

Merlin blinked. "Thanks."

Elara moved first.

No hesitation. No words.

She walked straight across the room, leaned down, and slapped him across the chest.

Hard.

It wasn't a punch.

But it wasn't gentle, either.

"You idiot," she said, voice steady, quiet, and furious. "You absolute, reckless, self-sacrificing idiot."

Merlin didn't flinch. "I know."

"That's not an excuse."

"I didn't say it was."

Liliana moved to the other side of the bed, fingers curled into her sleeves. "You just vanished. You jumped into a rift."

Adrian crossed his arms from the doorway. "We thought you were dead."

Merlin looked at them.

All of them.

"…Sorry," he said finally.

That was all.

No explanation. No heroic justification.

Just two syllables, raw and dry like a splinter.

Nathan flopped onto the nearest stool and spun it around to sit backward. "So. On a scale of one to completely doomed, how bad is it?"

Merlin's gaze shifted. "You don't want the answer."

"Wrong," Nathan said. "I want all the answers. Preferably with dramatic lighting and ominous music in the background."

Adrian grinned. "I can hum menacingly."

"I'm serious," Nathan said, voice softening. "We were ready to go looking for you. Actually—we did go looking. Found the rift again."

Merlin's eyes twitched—barely—but it was there. "You what?"

'I don't even remember anything that happened after I passed out…'

"Long story. Vivienne's not mad. Morgana might be. But Seraphina probably scared the headmaster into letting us off with a warning."

"We weren't going to leave you behind," Elara said.

Merlin didn't answer.

Because he couldn't.

The system messages still hovered in the corner of his vision.

[WARNING: Soul State Critically Unstable]

His jaw tightened.

Nathan must've noticed the shift because he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "You're not okay."

Merlin looked at him. "No."

"But you're alive."

Merlin hesitated. Then nodded.

"That's enough for now," Nathan said.

A beat passed.

Then another.

Adrian finally clapped his hands. "Alright. Let's not crowd him. Guy looks like he fought a war with his face."

"I won the war," Merlin said flatly.

Liliana smiled.

The air in the room thinned just enough to feel real again.

"Can I stay?" Nathan asked, quieter now.

Merlin blinked. "Why?"

Nathan shrugged. "Because you're my friend, dumbass."

That was enough.

Merlin leaned back against the pillow. His ribs screamed, his head spun, and the system whispered warnings behind his eyes like a heartbeat too close.

But for now—

For just a moment—

He wasn't alone.