[5 SECONDS]

'They need me,' Akhil thought, images flashing through his mind. Ryan's determined expression. Aria's fierce loyalty. Nyla's cold precision. J's unwavering devotion. All of them fighting desperately against an enemy they couldn't hope to defeat.

Fighting to save him.

[4 SECONDS]

'But if I go back without knowing how to stop this thing, will it even matter? I'll just be conscious in a body controlled by the Monarch. Trapped. Helpless. Watching while it uses my power to slaughter everyone I care about.'

[3 SECONDS]

The pull grew stronger, reality beginning to blur at the edges. The void started to fade, replaced by flashes of the battlefield—brief glimpses of the carnage outside. Bodies on the ground. Blood everywhere. His friends broken and bleeding.

'I need to see them. Need to know they're okay. Need to—'

[2 SECONDS]

And suddenly, in that crystalline moment of decision, Akhil understood. This wasn't about having the perfect plan. Wasn't about gathering all the information or understanding all the systems.

This was about trust.

Trust that his friends were strong enough to survive until he could help them. Trust that together, they could figure this out. Trust that even without all the answers, they were better off with him there than with him hiding in the safety of the void.

[1 SECOND]

'I'm coming,' Akhil thought, his resolve solidifying into certainty. 'Hold on. Just hold on a little longer.'

[CONSCIOUSNESS TRANSFER COMPLETE]

[WELCOME BACK, PLAYER NEXUS]

The void shattered.

---

On the battlefield, the Blood Monarch was still absorbing blood, still savoring its victory, when something changed.

Deep within Akhil's body, where consciousness resided, a presence stirred. Not the Monarch. Not the hunger or the malevolence or the ancient power.

Something else. Something the Monarch had thought safely locked away.

The creature's eyes snapped open, confusion flickering across its features for the first time.

"What—"

Inside the shared space of his own mind, Akhil opened his eyes.

Akhil's eyes opened to carnage.

The first thing he registered was the blood—so much blood. It pooled on the scorched earth, painted the debris, stained the faces of those still standing. Bodies lay scattered across the battlefield like broken dolls, some moving weakly, others completely still.

'Did I... did I do this?'

His legs trembled as he tried to stand. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, exhausted beyond measure. Blood still trickled from his nose, a reminder of how far he'd pushed himself—how far the Monarch had pushed his body.

The white form of his transformation flickered and faded, leaving him looking more human again. The black markings dissolved, the wings retreated, and his eyes slowly returned to their normal color. He stood there, swaying slightly, taking in the full scope of the destruction.

Dozens of adventurers lay dead or dying. The orcs—his orcs, who'd charged in to save him—were broken and bleeding. J knelt in the dirt, cradling his shattered arm, golden flames completely extinguished. Ryan sat slumped against twisted metal, his own arm hanging at an unnatural angle. Aria could barely stand, one hand pressed against her ribs. Nyla's face was pale as death, frost no longer gathering around her depleted form. Nibo had collapsed entirely, his massive chest rising and falling with labored breaths.

All of them watching him with wary, uncertain eyes.

"Akhil?" Aria's voice was barely a whisper, hope and fear warring in that single word.

He opened his mouth to respond, but his throat was too tight. The weight of what he'd done—what the Monarch had done with his body, his power—pressed down on him like a physical thing. His hands shook as he looked at them, still stained with blood that wasn't his own.

"I..." His voice cracked. He swallowed hard, trying again. "I'm... I'm back. It's me. It's really me."

For a long moment, no one moved. The tension was palpable, everyone holding their breath, waiting to see if this was another trick, another cruel game from the monster that had worn their leader's face.

Then Aria stumbled forward, ignoring the pain in her ribs, ignoring the protests from her battered body. She stopped just in front of him, searching his eyes for something—some sign that he was telling the truth.

What she found there must have been enough. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed forward. Akhil caught her instinctively, and she pressed her face against his shoulder, her whole body shaking.

"You bastard," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "You absolute bastard. We thought... we thought we'd lost you."

"I'm sorry," Akhil breathed, his own voice breaking. "I'm so sorry. All of this... all of these people... because of me—"

"No." Nyla's voice cut through his self-recrimination as she limped closer. Ice no longer gathered around her, but her eyes still held that sharp, analytical clarity. "Not because of you. Whatever that thing was, it wasn't you. We all saw the difference."

"But it used my body. My power. I should have—"

"Should have what?" Ryan interrupted, forcing himself to his feet despite his broken arm. His face was drawn with pain, but his expression was firm. "Been strong enough to never lose consciousness? Never needed help? Been invincible?" He shook his head. "You're not a god, Akhil. You're just... you're just like the rest of us. Human. Fallible. And that's okay."

"But look at what happened!" Akhil's voice rose, gesturing at the bodies, the destruction. "Look at how many people died because I wasn't strong enough to control it!"

"Twenty-three," Nyla said quietly.

Akhil turned to her, confusion momentarily cutting through his anguish.

"Twenty-three people died," she continued, her voice steady despite the exhaustion evident in every line of her body. "Out of nearly three hundred who were here. That's... that's not good. Every death is a tragedy. But it could have been so much worse."

"She's right," Aria said, pulling back slightly but keeping one hand on Akhil's arm, as if afraid he might disappear again. "If you hadn't come back when you did... if that thing had kept going..." She shuddered, unable to finish the thought.

"The casualties weren't too much," Nyla added, though the words seemed to pain her. "Many still came out alive. That's what matters now. You came back. You stopped it. You saved the rest of us."

Akhil wanted to argue, wanted to reject the comfort they were offering. He didn't deserve it. Not when he could still see the faces of the dead, could still remember—however hazily—the sensation of the Monarch using his body to kill.

But the looks on their faces stopped him. They needed him to accept this. Needed him to forgive himself so they could all move forward. So he swallowed the protests, the self-hatred, and simply nodded.

"What happened to you?" Ryan asked after a moment of heavy silence. "One second you were falling unconscious, the next... that thing. What was it?"

Akhil took a shaky breath, organizing his thoughts. Where did he even begin?

"I was in the lobby," he started slowly. "The waiting lobby. The same place I went the first time I lost consciousness with the orcs." He looked around at their confused faces. "It's... it's hard to explain. It's like a space between consciousness and unconsciousness. A void."

"We saw the scenario notification," Aria said. "Something about your life hanging by a thread?"

"Yeah." Akhil nodded. "I needed blood to wake up. But while I was there, in that void..." He paused, the memories of what he'd learned still raw and overwhelming. "I received a message. A video transmission from someone outside."

"Someone outside?"

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