"You are mine….no, you are ours and ours alone"
The words tore through Azrael's skull as his eyes flew open, repeating with the steady, merciless beat of a war drum.
They weren't sounds. They weren't even thoughts. They were brands carved into the marrow of his bones, echoing with every flicker of breath.
Cold hit him first. A cruel, biting cold that dug into his skin like needles, seeping past muscle into the very hollows of his bones.
The cave floor beneath him was unforgiving; jagged stone pressed into his back, sharp edges bruising flesh that already screamed from strain. He shifted, just slightly, and the rock bit deeper, grinding against him as though the earth itself wanted him pinned.
Then came the pain.
His shoulder roared with it. The pulse was steady, merciless, each throb perfectly in time with his heartbeat.
Hot, wet, and raw, the wound was still fresh enough that his body hadn't yet accepted it.
Every tiny movement sent a fresh wave of fire down his arm, burning until his hand tingled and his chest tightened.
He clenched his jaw to keep from groaning. The sound that escaped anyway was guttural, ragged, and more animal than man.
The cave stank of iron and ash. His own blood still lingered in the air, thick and metallic, mingling with the faint sourness of poison.
And beneath it all was the faint whisper of smoke, left over from some long-dead fire. He dragged air into his lungs, but it felt like breathing knives, sharp and shallow.
And still, beneath it all, the words remained.
You are mine… ours, and ours alone.
He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the darkness would drown it out. But in the black, he saw her again, those impossible eyes, one crimson, one gold, swapping places with every blink until he couldn't tell which was real.
He heard her voice, soft and aching, thick with intimacy, repeating words he hadn't wanted but couldn't refuse.
A shiver cut through him that had nothing to do with the cold.
He forced his eyes open. The cave roof loomed above, jagged rock glittering faintly with frost. His breath misted in the air, curling like ghosts around his face before vanishing into nothing.
Then warmth. Against his side.
Olivia.
Her head lay pressed against his chest, just above the steady drum of his heart. Her breath was slow, even, almost fragile.
She was asleep, her body slack in a way he hadn't seen since before the battle. Her weight anchored him, pulled him back into the cave, into the present, into reality.
For a long moment he stared down at her, his vision blurred with exhaustion and lingering confusion. She was here. Alive. Safe. That should have been enough.
But the voice would not stop.
Ours. Ours. Ours.
Each repetition made the ache in his shoulder sharpen, made the edges of the world press harder against him.
He couldn't tell if it was memory or invasion, if the words were something he carried back with him, or if the being still lingered, still pressed its will into his mind across worlds.
He tried to sit up.
The jagged stone scraped his spine, tore at his flesh, and his shoulder screamed in protest. The effort ripped a hiss of pain through clenched teeth, his body trembling as sweat chilled on his skin.
He pressed one palm to the ground, forcing himself upright despite the fire crawling through his veins.
The movement stirred Olivia slightly. She made a soft sound, shifting but not waking, her pink eyes hidden beneath lashes that fluttered briefly before falling still again.
Azrael froze, holding himself perfectly still until her breathing steadied again.
Only then did he allow himself to breathe, ragged and shallow, his heart hammering far too fast for someone lying still in a cave.
You are mine…no ours, and ours alone.
He shut his eyes again, dragging a hand down his face. His fingers came away sticky with blood. His own? He didn't even know anymore.
The lines between battle, nightmare, and reality blurred until he couldn't see where one ended and the other began.
And the worst part was the whisper that followed in silence, soft as a lover's breath against his ear
Never forget.
Then it appeared right in front of his eyes like all those times before
[System Notification]
Minor Regeneration has been acquired.
Source: Side effect of Body of Pure Devastation.
Effect: Wounds heal at an accelerated rate. Bleeding is slowed. Broken tissue will slowly knit itself back together. Severe or fatal injuries cannot be healed.
But this time he didn't even pay any mind he was far too tired for this so instead Azrael just let his eyes fall shut.
Time slipped away from him, he couldn't tell if it was minutes, hours, or days. Every second stretched, every breath dragged on as though the cave itself held him suspended between waking and oblivion.
His body was working. He could feel it.
The deep throb of his shoulder dulled little by little, the torn flesh knitting thread by thread.
Bones pulled themselves back into place with aching slowness, grinding and setting with faint shivers that wracked his chest.
Even the poison, which had once felt like molten fire in his veins, had thinned into a faint heat, burning itself out under the stubborn will of his blood.
It wasn't perfect. The pain was still there, still sharp when he moved. But at least he could move.
A low groan escaped his lips as he shifted, rolling just enough to ease the worst of the jagged stone beneath him. The sound stirred Olivia.
Her lashes fluttered, pink eyes cracking open as she let out a drowsy hum.
For a moment, she looked confused, caught between sleep and waking.
Then she focused on him, and the fog in her gaze sharpened to worry.
"Az…" Her voice was soft, raw with exhaustion. "How do you feel?"
He drew in a slow breath, forcing his chest to rise steady even as pain licked at his nerves. "Better," he said at last, though the word tasted like ash. "Alive. That's enough."
Olivia pushed herself up onto one elbow, studying him closely. Her attention was wholly on him. "You don't look fine," she said.
He almost laughed. "I don't feel fine either."
Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn't argue.
Instead, she sat up fully, brushing dust and frost from her arms. The cave's silence pressed heavy between them until she finally spoke again, quieter this time.
"We can't stay here. If we rest too long, something else will find us."
He nodded slowly, testing his arm.
The muscles screamed, but they obeyed. That was enough.
He forced himself upright, every movement stiff and deliberate, until he was sitting beside her.
His breath steamed in the cold air, and for a moment, he just sat there, matching his rhythm to hers.
"Then we move," he said finally. His voice was hoarse but certain.
Olivia's expression softened. She reached out without hesitation, steadying his good shoulder as he rose to his feet.
The weight of her hand was grounding, solid not like the shifting, unreal touch of the woman in his dream.
Together, they gathered what little they had, blades strapped back into place, steps slow but steady.
The mouth of the cave loomed ahead, shadows curling like teeth around the opening. Beyond it, the path to the next floor waited, cold and merciless.
Azrael glanced at Olivia, her pink eyes glinting with weary determination. Then he finally said
"Whatever we find on the next floor am eating it"
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I know the system doesn't seem to be doing much right now, and it might feel like this isn't a system novel at all. But that's only because Azrael hasn't completed the very first mission the system gave him back in Chapter 1️⃣. By the end of the dungeon arc, he will finish it, and after that, the system will start to play a much bigger role. I promise it won't be like any system you've seen before (well… maybe you have, who knows 👀), but trust me, it's going to get interesting.