A voice drifted through the fog of Leonel's sleep. Gentle, familiar, yet teasingly reproachful.
"What you have been raving about has come… and you are not awake to see it. Wake up soon, Leo."
His eyelids fluttered. For a moment, he thought he was still trapped in that strange haze with the book. But when he finally opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was not runes or shadows—it was his mother's face.
Her eyes were full of care, the kind of warmth that could ground him even when the rest of the world spun apart. She brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and smiled softly.
"You've been out for nine hours, Leo," she said, her tone half scolding, half relieved. "Eat a little, then rest more if you must. I'll come call you when supper's ready."
Leonel sat up slowly, still dazed. His head felt heavy, but the normalcy of her voice, her presence, made the events of last night seem almost… unreal. Almost.
His mum, Sarah Harrynader.
She was the very image of elegance—long blonde hair that shimmered like spun gold in the light, and an ideal figure that seemed sculpted with care. Her presence carried both grace and quiet strength, the kind that drew eyes even when she said nothing.
Leonel couldn't help but stare for a heartbeat longer than he should have. Sarah had always been there—beautiful, gentle, yet with a mysterious aura about her. Sometimes, he thought she seemed less like someone who belonged to his ordinary life and more like a character who had stepped straight out of the stories he loved so much.
When she left the room, the quiet returned, broken only by Leonel's slow breathing. He leaned back against the headboard, her words echoing in his ears.
Nine hours.
He dragged a hand across his face, covering his eyes as he let out a long, heavy sigh.
"So… it finally happened," he muttered under his breath.
His mind replayed the last thing he remembered before collapsing—the strange book, the sting of blood, the voice whispering from nowhere. The memory sent a shiver through him.
And then… a thought crept into his mind. A reckless one. The kind of thought he had read about a thousand times but never truly believed he would think himself.
He swallowed, heart thudding.
System… he called out, internally.