Clara’s husband arrived shortly after the call. The drive to the hospital passed in a tense, heavy silence. Ethea kept praying for his safety in her mind.

Once they arrived at the Central Medical Center, Clara helped Ethea into her wheelchair. She pushed her through the long, sterile corridors, the wheels clicking rhythmically against the polished floor. They stopped briefly at the information desk to confirm the room number.

"Room 304," Clara muttered, her pace quickening.

They hurried toward the third floor. Ethea kept her eyes fixed forward, her fingers gripped tightly in her lap. Her only focus was the door at the end of the hallway.

As they reached Room 304, Clara slowed to a stop.

Several figures were gathered in the hallway directly outside the door. Among them were two officers in dark uniforms, standing with their arms crossed. They were deep in conversation with a man in a white coat and a woman holding a tablet.

The group looked up as the wheelchair approached. The two officers stepped forward, their presence blocking the entrance to the room.

Clara stopped the chair a few feet away.

"Is this the room for Soren Everly?" Clara asked.

One of the officers nodded slowly, his gaze shifting to Ethea.

"It is," he said. "Are you the family?"

Clara nodded, her hand resting firmly on the back of the wheelchair. "She is his wife, and I am her caretaker."

The officer gave a short nod.

"What happened?" Clara asked immediately. "Is he going to be fine?"

The officer gestured toward the man in the white coat. "It is better if you ask the Chief Healer for medical details. As for the incident itself, the specifics are confidential. All I am permitted to say is that he was injured inside a Gate."

Clara nodded in understanding, her lips pressed into a thin line. She pushed the wheelchair a few steps closer to the Chief Healer, who was now looking over a digital chart.

"Sir?" Clara called out softly.

The man looked up. "I am the Head of Recovery, Dr. Aris. You are here for Mr. Soren?"

"How is he?" Ethea asked, her voice trembling.

Dr. Aris sighed. "He is alive, but his condition is critical. His mana circuits are overstrained, and he has suffered severe physical trauma. We have stabilized his life force, but he has fallen into a deep stasis."

The news hit Ethea like a physical weight. Her heart ached with a sharp, stabbing pain at the thought of him lying there unconscious, yet a part of her felt a wave of cold relief, because he was alive.

The doctor noticed Ethea trembling, her knuckles still white against the armrests. He looked at his assistant and then back at her.

"You can go inside to see him," Dr. Aris said. He gestured to the woman beside him. "My assistant will help you through the door and get you settled. He needs rest, but having family nearby can sometimes help."

The assistant opened the door with a soft click, allowing Clara to push the wheelchair inside. Under the watchful eyes of those in the hallway, they entered the room.

The door slid shut behind them, cutting off the sterile noise of the hallway and plunging the world into a thick quiet.

"!" Ethea’s breath hitched as her eyes landed on the bed in the center of the room.

There lay the man she had been watching the door for all afternoon. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

’Soren...’

He looked smaller than she remembered, swallowed by the white sheets and the complex array of monitoring equipment surrounding him. A faint, rhythmic hum filled the space, synchronized with a flickering blue light on a nearby monitor that traced the slow, steady pulse of his life force.

His face was pale, nearly translucent under the harsh glow of the overhead lights, and a thin bandage was wrapped around his forehead. His hands, usually so warm and full of life, lay motionless at his sides.

Clara positioned the wheelchair right next to the bed.

"..."

Ethea stared at the small gap between her hand and the edge of the mattress. She wanted to bridge the distance, to feel the heat of his skin and prove to herself he was truly there, but her muscles refused to obey. The familiar, crushing weight of powerlessness settled over her, making the short distance feel like an impassable canyon.

Clara noticed the slight tremor in Ethea’s shoulders. Without a word, she reached down and gently lifted Ethea’s hand from the armrest. She moved it with careful precision, placing it onto the soft white sheet so that Ethea’s fingers came to rest directly against Soren’s palm.

The contact was cold.

The heat that usually radiated from him had been replaced by a faint, artificial warmth from the monitor. Ethea’s fingertips curled slightly, pressing into the familiar calluses of his hand.

She then looked at his face, searching for a twitch of a muscle or a shift in his expression. His features remained frozen in that deep, unnatural sleep.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The rhythmic chime of the monitor remained the only sound, a mechanical heartbeat filling the void where his voice should have been. Ethea kept her fingers curled against his palm, her grip the only thing anchoring her in the silent room. The physical connection was a fragile bridge, yet it felt like the only real thing in a world that had suddenly turned quiet and cold.

’Thank goodness...’

’You’re alive...’

’You’re safe...’

The word "safe" felt wrong for a man tethered to mana-monitors in a recovery ward, but compared to the dark void she had imagined back at the house, this was a miracle she had to cling to.

Even if the coldness of his skin terrified her, the fact that his pulse still flickered across the screen proved he was still here.

This realization brought an intense wave of relief, a fleeting warmth that momentarily numbed the ache in her chest and pushed back the worst of her fears.

However, as her gaze lingered on the heavy bandages and the various tubes connected to his body, that warmth began to sour.

’This...’

’He is like this...’

’Because of me...’