Extra To Protagonist

The room was quiet again.

Liliana lingered the longest, casting one last glance over her shoulder as Elara gently pulled her toward the door.

Adrian followed, hands stuffed in his pockets, shoulders tense in a way that said he wasn't done talking to Merlin, just postponing it.

The door clicked shut behind them with a muted thud.

Nathan didn't move from the stool.

Merlin hadn't looked at him since they left.

He was sitting half-upright, head tipped against the wall, golden eyes dull with something Nathan didn't recognize. Not pain. Not exhaustion.

Something quieter.

Something colder.

Nathan rested his chin on the stool's backrest, folding his arms over it. "You didn't think we'd come."

It wasn't a question.

Merlin didn't answer. Not right away.

Then—without turning his head—he said, "No."

Nathan exhaled through his nose. "Cool. Rude, but cool."

Silence stretched between them.

Nathan let it.

Because something about Merlin felt… brittle.

Not breakable.

Just already broken.

Like every word would have to tiptoe around the fractures.

He spun the stool slightly with his heel. Just enough to keep the movement going. "So. Wanna tell me what the hell actually happened down there?"

Merlin's fingers twitched—subtle. But there.

Nathan watched him for a moment longer.

Then leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. "Or… don't. I mean, it's not like I ever accidentally broke into a death dimension. Well, not that you can prove, anyway."

Still no response.

But the tension in the room shifted by a hair.

"You weren't gone for a long time," Nathan said softly. "But it was long enough to make everyone start thinking the worst."

"I know."

"We almost got expelled trying to find you. I think Morgana smiled. It was terrifying."

"…You should've stayed."

"Yeah, well." Nathan shrugged. "That's never really been my thing."

The silence that followed wasn't heavy this time.

Just real.

Nathan tilted his head, looking over at Merlin again. "You were planning to die."

Merlin's jaw clenched. Just once.

Nathan's voice stayed quiet. "You didn't expect to come back."

"No."

Nathan nodded slowly. "You told me not to follow."

Merlin finally looked at him. "But you did."

"You hate being the only one who knows what to do," Nathan said.

"You keep trying to take the weight alone. Like that makes the rest of us safer."

His eyes narrowed. "It doesn't."

Merlin looked away.

Nathan leaned forward, tapping the back of the stool. "You can say thank you, y'know."

"…You didn't have to."

"Yeah," Nathan said. "And you didn't have to jump through a collapsing rift like a dramatic idiot either, but here we are."

Something like a breath of laughter escaped Merlin—quiet. Half-broken.

Nathan stood up.

Walked across the room.

And sat on the edge of the bed like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"You're not alone, you know," he said. "Even if you think it's better that way. Even if you think dragging us into whatever nightmare this is would just get us killed."

He didn't touch Merlin.

Didn't force eye contact.

Just sat there. Solid. Steady.

"You're not alone anymore."

Merlin didn't speak.

But he didn't move away either.

And that was enough.

—

The room stayed quiet long after Nathan left.

No footsteps. No echoes. Just the soft click of the door closing and the distant murmur of the Academy outside the infirmary walls.

Merlin didn't move.

He sat the same way—spine slightly curled, shoulders tense, golden eyes fixed on nothing. Not the door. Not the ceiling. Just… air.

[System functions suspended.]

The message hadn't left his vision since he woke.

No matter how long he stared at it.

No matter how hard he wished it would disappear.

He'd tried—right after Nathan left. Just to check. Just to feel. Lightning. Wind. Even a flicker of water.

Nothing answered.

His mana core felt hollow. Not broken. Not drained.

Just unreachable.

Like something had severed the bridge between who he was and what he could do.

'Damned soul damage..'

He shook his head subtly.

'What did Subject 0…do to me, and how did she damage my soul..?'

No answers.

Just static in the back of his head and the sense that something had come back with him.

Or maybe hadn't let go.

Merlin closed his eyes.

Let his head rest against the infirmary wall.

And for the first time in what felt like days, allowed himself to feel tired.

Not from battle. Not from running. Not even from thinking.

Just tired.

Down to the marrow.

The door creaked open.

He didn't open his eyes.

But he knew who it was before she said anything.

The scent of scorched ozone. The faint warmth of fire-aspected mana brushing against the edges of the room.

"…You're awake," Vivienne said softly.

He opened his eyes.

She stood just inside the doorway, not in armor, not in her usual field-instructor gear. Just plain clothes. Unassuming. A coat draped over one arm like she'd been waiting to bring it.

And her eyes—brown, tired—searched his face like she hadn't seen him in years.

Merlin didn't say anything.

Vivienne shut the door behind her.

Walked forward.

Sat in the chair Nathan had dragged over earlier and folded her hands across her lap. Her movements were quiet. Deliberate. Nothing like the firestorm she usually was.

She looked at him for a long time.

Then—quietly—"You didn't think I'd come, did you?"

He didn't answer.

"You thought if you disappeared, that'd be the end of it."

Still nothing.

Vivienne let out a slow breath. "When I got the report, I thought Morgana was lying."

That got a twitch from him.

She continued, voice calm, but clipped. "She said you jumped into a collapsing rift. Said you knew what was on the other side. That you chose to go."

"I did."

The words left his mouth flat. Final.

Vivienne's jaw tightened. "You idiot."

He looked away.

"I taught you better than that," she said. "Reinhardt taught you better than that. You don't get to decide your life has less value than anyone else's just because you know more than the rest of us."

"You weren't there."

"No, I wasn't. Because I trusted you to survive the battle like everyone else."

"I did survive."

"Barely."

Silence.

Vivienne leaned forward slightly. "You think it was noble? Running off to shoulder it alone? You think that makes you strong?"

He didn't reply.

She reached into her coat.

Pulled something out.

Tossed it onto the bed beside him.

A shard of crystal—cracked down the middle. Humming faintly with silver fire.

"Do you know what that is?"

He stared at it.

Then nodded. "A core fragment."

"Yours," she said. "From the breach site."

His hand hovered just above it.

Didn't touch.

"It shouldn't be intact," she murmured. "Not after that much backlash. The fact that even a sliver of your soul left it behind means you were trying to come back."

Merlin swallowed.

Vivienne's voice dropped. "So why didn't you?"

"…I couldn't."

His voice cracked.

"I couldn't find the way."

The words slipped out before he could stop them.

Vivienne didn't move.

Just stared at him.

And nodded.

Slowly.

"I believe you."

That was worse somehow.

Because for the first time—

It felt like she understood.

The silence that followed wasn't heavy.

It was just… quiet.

She leaned back in the chair, arms crossing again. "You're not getting out of recovery until I say so."

He smirked faintly. "Figured."

"And you're going to tell me everything. Eventually."

He didn't answer.

But she didn't press.

Because she didn't need to.

Vivienne had always been the kind of person who waited with fire in her hands and patience behind her teeth.

She could wait.

For now.

She stood. Walked to the door.

Then paused.

"…I'm glad you came back," she said.

And left.

The door shut behind her with a soft click.

Merlin stared at the core shard on the bed.

'Still unstable.'

'Still not healed.'

But not forgotten.

He leaned his head back against the wall again.

And closed his eyes.

—

The infirmary ceiling was dull stone, carved with faint constellations. Some ancient warding formation.

Decorative more than functional. He'd counted the stars twelve times already. It didn't help.

Silence pressed like cotton against his skull. It was the same silence that filled every second since he woke up.

Not the silence of safety.

The silence of being alive after something should've killed you.

He hadn't spoken much. Not to Nathan. Not to Elara. Not even to Vivienne.

And now—

The air thinned.

His breath slowed.

A ripple of pressure bent the room in half for just an instant.

Then, in the space where light should've lived, Morgana appeared.

Blue hair trailing like silk through water, her clear-white eyes catching none of the lanternlight, yet glowing brighter than any of it. Her presence bent the temperature of the room without changing it.

She didn't knock. She didn't speak.

She just seemed to appear in the room.

Merlin didn't flinch. Didn't sit up.

He watched her.

She watched him.

"You lasted longer than I expected," she said.

Her voice was soft—but not kind.

"Guess I'm hard to kill," he replied.

"You're not," she said plainly. "You're just too angry to die properly."

Merlin didn't deny it.

Morgana stepped closer. Each movement felt rehearsed. As if she walked through a script only she could read.

"I've scanned your body twice," she said. "There's no trace of any external entity. No possession. No foreign mana. No… contamination."

Merlin blinked once.

She held his gaze. "Whatever happened over there—it stayed over there."

His chest loosened just slightly.

"…Good."

"I'm not sure you think so," she added.

He didn't respond.

"You were gone for two days," she said. "When Nathan and Elara found you, you were unconscious. They didn't recognize the terrain. But I did."

Merlin met her eyes. Quiet. Still.

"The Demonic Continent is not a place first-years survive," Morgana said.

"Not even for ten minutes. And yet…"

Her gaze narrowed just slightly.

"You came back with not many wounds. Mana collapse. Internal fragmentation. Soul instability."

She folded her arms. "Explain that to me."

"I'm alive," he said.

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have," Merlin replied.

Because it was true.