The truck rumbled up the familiar gravel path toward the Clearwater house, the smell of rain-heavy evergreens drifting through the cracked windows.
Luna—Leah—kept her breathing steady, focusing on the rhythm of the road.
She could feel Sue watching her in the rearview mirror.
Not angry.
Not panicking.
Clinically observing.
A nurse's gaze—measuring pallor, responsiveness, pupil dilation—while a mother's worry simmered beneath.
Harry, in the driver's seat, kept his eyes forward, but Luna felt his attention like a second heartbeat.
Noticing.
Sensing.
Weighing the shift in his daughter's spirit with the intuition that came from years as a tribal elder.
She was so screwed.
---
The moment the front door shut behind them, a missile launched out of the hallway.
"LEAH!"
Seth—tbright, adorable 12 year old Seth—collided with her in a full-velocity hug.
Her lungs evacuated all air.
"Oof—hey, buddy," Luna rasped, arms instinctively wrapping around him.
He smelled like grass and laundry detergent and sunshine.
Leah's heart responded with fierce sisterly love—Luna's responded with something more fragile.
'So this is what having a little brother feels like…'
Seth pulled back, beaming up at her. "You look weird."
"Seth!" Sue barked—nurse tone first, mom tone second.
"What? She does!"
Harry snorted.
Luna tried to smile. "I'm just tired."
Seth nodded solemnly, accepting that as fact. "Want me to bring you my dinosaur plushie? He helps."
Her chest tightened. "Yeah, buddy. I'd like that."
He sprinted off.
---
"Sit."
Sue pointed at the couch like it was a hospital bed.
Luna obeyed immediately—nurse authority trumped reincarnator panic.
Sue knelt in front of her, flipping into full medical mode:
- Checking pulse
- Assessing hydration
- Tracking eye movement
- Asking symptom-pattern questions so fast Luna almost admired it
"Any nausea? Blurred vision? Slurred speech? Tingling in the extremities? What exactly did you feel before you fell?"
Luna, who had spent too much time binge-watching medical dramas, rattled off a textbook-safe list:
"No vomiting, mild dizziness, transient headache. No tinnitus. No memory gaps prior to the event."
Sue froze.
That was not how an 18-year-old described fainting.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you talk like a resident doctor?"
Crap.
"Uh," Luna coughed, scrambling. "I listen when you talk? …A lot?"
Sue's eyes narrowed. She wasn't buying it.
Harry, however, studied her differently—quiet, steady, elder-deep.
"Your… energy feels different," he said finally. "Not bad. Just… stirred."
Luna's heart jumped. Did he know? Could he feel the system? The merge?
She forced out a shaky laugh. "I think I'm just stressed."
Harry didn't respond, but the weight of his gaze softened.
Like he wasn't convinced—
but he wasn't afraid of her either.
A subtle chime echoed inside her skull.
[MISSION COMPLETE — "Stabilize Your New Identity"
Reward Granted: 50 SC]
[New Passive Skill Acquired: Emotional Grounding (+20% Mood Stability, +5% Social Navigation)— (Star Wars: Jedi Mind States)]
A wave rolled through her—warm, stabilizing, gently smoothing the jagged edges of panic.
Her breath softened.
Her pulse steadied.
Her thoughts aligned.
For the first time since arriving, she felt present.
The System's store screen flickered open:
– MCU Low-Level Combat Drills (Basic)
– Jedi Meditation: Beginner Level
– Grisha Durability Boost (Minor)
– Potions (Healing, Fatigue, Calm)
– Infinity Nikki Outfit Storage
All Practical. Useful.
She selected:
- Infinity Nikki Outfit Storage (Infinity Nikki) -30 SC
- Basic Jedi Breathing (Star Wars) — 10 SC
[Items Purchased. Balance: 10 SC]
The breathing skill settled into her mind like a whisper.
Controlled inhale.
Measured exhale.
Stabilize the shift.
Anchor the self.
She didn't realize she'd closed her eyes until a warm weight touched her knee.
Harry's hand.
"Leah," he said softly, "you don't have to explain anything right now. Just rest."
Something inside her cracked open.
Not from pain—
from belonging.
She nodded, a small smile trembled upon her lips.
"Thanks, Dad."
His smile was quiet and warm—the kind that could guide entire communities through storms.
"You're my girl," Harry murmured. "I always know when something's wrong. And I'll be right here until it's right again."
Her throat burned.
'I'm going to save you,' she thought fiercely.
'I don't care what the timeline says.'
Sue stood, arms crossed.
"You're not going to school tomorrow. It's all formality anyway. I'll pick up any of your belongings after my morning shift."
Luna swallowed. "Yes, Ma—Momma."
Sue's breath hitched.
Harry's eyebrows lifted.
That was Leah's word.
The one she used as a child before teenage prickliness took over.
And Luna hadn't even meant to say it—
it just… slipped out of Leah's heart.
Sue's suspicion softened.
Just a little.
"Alright," she said gently. "Let's get you some soup."
And she turned toward the kitchen.
Harry squeezed her shoulder once, then followed.
When Luna finally let herself exhale, the System shimmered faintly:
[Mission Progress (New Questline):
"Become Leah Clearwater" — 6%]
She lay back against the couch cushions, blinking up at the ceiling fan.
New world.
New body.
New family.
And for the first time—
She wanted desperately to stay.
And protect every single one of them.