In the next moment, everything went dark. Justin couldn’t see or hear anything. It was as if he were nothing more than a consciousness floating in a void.

Was he dead? Had the drake's ice breath ended him somehow before the Sapphire Star’s effects took hold?

The thought twisted his stomach—or what would have been his stomach if he could feel his body at all.

Then, a single line in the System’s font blazed across his vision.

[Core Alteration in Progress. Recalibration Required...]

Slowly, a scene materialized before him. It was far from what he had expected.

The first thing he noticed was the light—harsh fluorescents that stung his nonexistent eyes. The ceiling above him was sterile white, interrupted by a grid of tiles and a small vent humming softly. The smell hit him next: antiseptic, sharp, and faintly metallic. Then, the sounds—machines beeping rhythmically, their screens glowing with data he couldn’t understand.

His gaze fell to the hospital bed in the center of the room, its occupant a pale, auburn-haired figure surrounded by tubes and wires. The figure’s chest rose and fell faintly, in time with the hiss of a ventilator. Monitors beside the bed displayed vital signs in green lines that spiked and fell in a steady rhythm.

Justin’s stomach dropped as he realized it was himself.

He wanted to scream, to deny the sight, but he had no voice. He was nothing more than a ghost—a powerless observer trapped in this surreal dream.

Or was it a dream? Maybe it was reality.

That was when he saw her.

A woman sat in a chair beside the bed, her hands folded tightly in her lap. She was in her late forties, her face lined with the weight of too many sleepless nights. Her hair, once the same auburn as his, was streaked with gray and pulled back into a loose bun. Her clothes—a faded sweater and worn jeans—hung awkwardly on her thin frame, as if she had been skipping meals. Her eyes, deep brown and rimmed with red, were fixed on his unconscious face.

Mom.

Justin’s heart twisted at the sight of her. She looked older than he remembered, so much more fragile. He tried to call out to her, but no sound came. Panic clawed at him as he fought to make her see him, but it was useless. He was just a phantom.

She shifted in her chair, leaning forward to brush a strand of hair from his forehead.

Justin’s chest tightened. This couldn’t be real. None of this made sense.

He turned his attention back to the figure in the bed—his body. It hit him like a cold slap: Eyrth, the drake, the Sapphire Star...had it all been a dream? A figment of his comatose mind, a way for his brain to keep itself occupied while his body clung to life.

None of what he had just experienced was real. The friendships, the level-ups, the adventures...even the fear and the sorrow.

This had been what was real all along. Somehow, he had known it deep down, but he had refused to fully believe it.

The thought sent a wave of vertigo crashing over him.

He couldn’t stay here, trapped in limbo. He had to wake up. He had to make it real.

Wake up.

The words became a mantra in his mind, a desperate plea that reverberated through the void. He focused every ounce of his will on reconnecting to his body, on breaking through the barrier that separated him from the waking world.

The effort felt like trying to move mountains, but slowly, agonizingly, something shifted. A flicker of sensation in his fingertips. The faint awareness of weight in his limbs.

His mother was standing now, pulling her coat over her shoulders, preparing to leave.

No! The word thundered in his mind.

With a final surge of will, he snapped back into his body.

His eyelids fluttered open, the light stabbing into his retinas. His chest rose sharply as he sucked in a ragged breath, the ventilator hissing and beeping in protest.

“Justin?”

The voice startled him. It was familiar yet distant, as if he were hearing it underwater. His vision blurred as his head turned toward the source.

It was her. Mom. She was leaning over him, her face a mixture of joy and disbelief. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her hands hovered, unsure whether to touch him or to call for help.

“You’re awake,” she said, her voice trembling. “My God, I can’t believe it!”

She wrapped her arms around him, careful not to disturb the tangle of wires and tubes. Her embrace was warm, but it was the emotion in her voice that struck him the hardest. “I thought we had lost you."

His throat felt raw, like sandpaper. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse croak. His mother quickly reached for a pitcher on the bedside table, pouring water into a small cup and holding it to his lips.

“Slowly,” she said, guiding him as he took a sip. The cool liquid soothed his parched throat, allowing him to speak a single word. “Mom?”

“Yes, it’s me,” she said, smiling through her tears. “Oh, Justin, I thought I’d lost you. That tornado…it came out of nowhere. You’ve been in a coma for three months. I didn’t know if you’d ever wake up.”

The memory hit him like a punch to the gut. The storm, the deafening roar, the sensation of being lifted off the ground, and then...darkness. And after that, Eyrth. The frost-covered caverns, the gleam of Vorthyrn’s violet eyes, the Star’s sapphire light. Lila’s laughter, her steady presence...

Had any of it been real?

His chest tightened as despair welled up. The vertigo returned, stronger this time. If none of it had been real, then what was he left with? A shattered body and a world that had moved on without him?

“You’re overwhelmed,” his mother said gently. “That’s okay. Just take it easy. You’re safe now.”

Safe? Justin wasn’t so sure about that. He still had trouble believing this was happening.

At last, he managed to speak. "They...they need me."

Justin tried to sit up, but his body felt heavy and sluggish. His mother gently pushed him back down, not seeming to hear him. “Don’t rush it. The doctor will be in soon to check on you. He'll explain everything."

He nodded absently, his eyes scanning the room. It was a standard hospital room—clean, orderly, unremarkable.

He had to get back. This place wasn't real. Aranthia, Kaldrath, Windfall. Those were real places.

Had he gone mad? He wanted to close his eyes to go back.

Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second before she recovered. “Justin...I've had so much time to think. You're all I have left in this world. And you...you've been through so much, too. It's a new start...isn't it?"

Justin frowned. His memories felt fragmented and jumbled.

"It must be close to Christmas," he said carefully.

"Yes," she confirmed.

Justin's chest tightened. "Christmas has always been a hard time of year."

She looked annoyed. “Where is that nurse?" She turned back to him, offering a smile. "You just rest, okay? Be right back.”

As she left the room, Justin’s gaze shifted to the machines beside him. Their displays flickered, briefly showing lines of text that made no sense. It was like trying to read a language he vaguely understood.

His heart raced as he thought about his mother's words. She had said it was Christmas, but it had been May when that tornado hit. And she had confirmed it had been three months. It had been his test to see if this was real or something in his head.

If this wasn't real, then what was it? Some conjuration of the Baron or Vorthryn, perhaps? He should have been immune to Mind Control, but maybe this was something else entirely. Perhaps his top hat had fallen off when Kargan's ward broke.

Or had he simply misremembered his previous life? How could he trust his own memories, especially after getting knocked out by a tornado? Maybe it had happened in September. Certainly, his body didn't seem to be injured too badly, though he would most certainly be atrophied from lying in bed for so long.

He looked toward the window, hoping for some clarity, but the stars outside were eerily static, as if painted onto the night sky.

“This can't be real,” he muttered. But his mind was so fuzzy that he couldn't be sure of anything.

The beeping of the machines seemed to grow louder, almost mocking him. Justin clenched his fists. He looked back out at the night sky, noticing something strange. A bright blue star that did not exist in his own world. Elara's Star, here?

Justin lay back, defeated, his head spinning, his body too exhausted to do anything but surrender to the moment. He felt like a hollow shell, his thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. Drawing breath, even with the ventilator, was a monumental task.

The door opened, and his mother returned with two nurses in tow. The first nurse was a short woman with a no-nonsense air, her graying hair pulled into a tight bun and a clipboard clutched to her chest. Her movements were brisk and efficient. The second nurse, a younger man, had an easy smile and dark, curly hair. His warm brown eyes radiated kindness as he wheeled in a machine to check Justin’s vitals.

“Welcome back, Justin,” the younger nurse said cheerfully, his tone as bright as the fluorescent lights above. “You gave everyone quite a scare.”

The older nurse glanced up from her clipboard. “I’ll say. Three months in a coma and you’re still managing to look better than most people after a weekend bender.”

Justin forced a weak smile, his energy too sapped for much else. He mumbled something noncommittal as they checked his blood pressure, adjusted his IV, and took note of the machines' readings. Their chatter felt like background noise, like a distant radio station barely tuned in.

Finally, the older nurse straightened up, setting her clipboard aside. “How are you feeling, Justin?”

For some reason, it was easy for him to grasp the words. “Better." The lie rolled off his tongue with ease. He had no strength for an interrogation, not now.

The older nurse nodded. “Doctor Evans will be in shortly, along with Miss Harper, your physical therapist. She won’t be starting your therapy until morning, though. Try to get some rest in the meantime, yeah?”

“Sure,” Justin replied, his voice faint.

His mother lingered for a moment as the nurses left, offering an apologetic smile. “I need to step out for a bit, sweetheart. I’ll be back soon, I promise. Just…rest, okay?”

Justin hesitated. If his suspicion was right, this might be the last time he saw her, possibly forever. The thought hit him like a gut punch, and he clenched his fists against the sheets.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“Mom,” he said, his voice raw. “I’m sorry.”

Her expression softened, and she came back to his bedside, taking his hand. “Sorry for what?”

“For…wasting so much time. Before the storm, before all this, I didn’t do anything. I just let myself…disappear.”

She gave him a sad, tender smile. “Oh, Justin. None of that matters. You’re here now. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. You have the rest of your life ahead of you. It's never too late to start living.”

He held her gaze, memorizing every line of her face, every flicker of emotion in her eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Get some rest. Be back soon.”

She kissed his forehead and left the room, her footsteps fading down the corridor. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Justin waited a moment, ensuring no one was coming back. Then, with a grunt, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. The action was instinctual, impulsive. He hadn’t even thought about whether it was possible. The effort should have left him breathless.

Instead, his legs obeyed—but the moment he tried to stand, dizziness hit him like a wave. His vision swam, and he braced himself against the bed’s edge, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

It’s not real, he thought. I shouldn’t be able to do this.

As if in response to the doubt, his legs wavered beneath him, the weakness returning with a vengeance. Justin clutched the mattress, struggling to stay upright. Panic flared in his chest. What was happening? Why had his strength vanished?

No. Stop. You’re fine. You can do this.

He steadied his breathing, forcing the thought into his mind like a mantra. Slowly, the trembling in his legs subsided. Strength trickled back, cautious and hesitant, as if it needed his permission to remain.

Justin frowned, testing the theory. He shifted his weight onto one leg, willing it to be strong and steady. It held. A small victory. Encouraged, he straightened, imagining himself fully capable and untethered by months of atrophy.

He took a hesitant step forward, then another. His movements grew smoother, more confident with each thought. The room tilted slightly, but he fought the sensation back, focusing instead on strength, health, and capability.

This shouldn’t be possible. But it was.

With every step, his thoughts became commands, reshaping his reality in real time. The ache in his joints disappeared. The sluggishness in his movements faded. By the time he reached the door, Justin felt…fine. More than fine. He felt whole.

He glanced down at his hands, flexing his fingers. They moved with ease, with no trace of the frailty he should have felt after three months in a coma.

“This isn’t real,” he whispered, the words breaking the silence. "But if it’s not real...what is it?”

He opened the door cautiously and peered into the hallway.

The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting their harsh glow over a corridor devoid of life. No doctors. No patients. Just an endless stretch of white walls and closed doors. He stepped into the hall, his bare feet making no sound against the linoleum.

Room after room passed, each identical, each disturbingly silent. His unease grew with every step; his pulse quickened. Something was definitely off about this place.

He stopped suddenly, catching his reflection in the polished glass of a nearby window. His breath caught.

There, perched atop his head, was his top hat. The one he’d taken from Lord Harrington. And not only that, but the brilliant blue of the Sapphire Star, along with the six-jeweled Amulet of Equilibrium. It was a strange juxtaposition with his hospital gown.

His eyes drifted to his face. It was leaner, sharper, almost aristocratic—closer to the face he had seen in his reflection in Eyrth. Not the face he had worn in his old life. It was him, but it also wasn't him. How had his mother even recognized him?

His heart pounded in his chest. He touched the brim of the hat, his fingers trembling. This was not a hospital. Not a reality he could trust.

At last, Justin entered an empty atrium and approached a pair of sliding doors with an EXIT sign glowing faintly above them. Beyond the glass, he could see a mostly empty parking lot illuminated by cold, fluorescent streetlights. In the distance, several skyscrapers loomed. One of them was unmistakable—Devon Tower, the tallest building in Oklahoma City. The sight should have comforted him, but instead, it filled him with unease. Had they transported him here for recovery? Or had this dream—or whatever it was—chosen this location to make the scenario more convincing?

He hesitated at the threshold, the cool air from the automatic doors brushing his face. Maybe stepping outside would offer clarity. Maybe it would prove that this was real.

He stepped forward, ready to enter the parking lot when a soft voice spoke from behind him. It had an unearthly calm and a melodic resonance, like the first notes of a symphony.

“Justin.”

The single word stopped him cold. It wasn’t commanding, but it wasn’t to be ignored either.

Justin whirled around, his heart lurching—not in fear, but in awe.

It was a woman, radiant beyond description. Her presence seemed to fill the sterile hallway with a gentle light. She wore a gown of shimmering blue, adorned with stars that shifted as if alive. In her dark hair rested a single flower, glowing softly. Justin exactly what it was, though he had never seen one. The starflower's petals were a deep violet, almost black, the edges lightening to the faintest blue. At its center, a soft golden light pulsed gently, reminiscent of a twinkling star.

Her blue-eyed gaze seemed to hold the weight of eons.

“You're Elara,” Justin breathed, the name coming unbidden to his lips. "Elara Starfire."

She straightened, her movements fluid and unhurried, as though she had all the time in the universe. Her melodic voice carried an almost hypnotic quality. “Justin. The one who dares bind my Star."

Justin’s throat tightened. He looked between her and the EXIT sign. “What is this? Where am I?”

Elara tilted her head slightly, studying him. “You are at a crossroads. This place, this moment, is an intermediary. Few have tread here, except in death. It has been called 'The Realm Between Worlds.' The Star of Elara is no ordinary artifact. Its power has brought you here to decide your fate.”

Justin’s jaw tightened. “Decide my fate?”

Elara nodded, her expression calm yet enigmatic. “Beyond those doors lies your old life. The world you knew, free of Eyrth, free of the struggle of which you've found yourself a part. Out there lies your home, your family, your comforts. It is as real as you will make it.”

Justin’s fists clenched. “As I’ll make it? What does that even mean?”

She stepped closer, her presence almost overwhelming in its serenity. “Reality is shaped by thought, Justin. By belief. What you lived before was no more or less real than this. This place, your old world—it is all the same in essence. The mind is the architect. The Star offers you the chance to return, to create what you desire.”

He shook his head, backing away slightly. “But my friends—Lila, Eldrin, Kargan. If I leave…”

“They remain,” Elara said gently. “They are as real—or as ephemeral—as you deem. The decision is yours to make.”

Justin stared at the glowing EXIT sign, the faint outline of the parking lot and the Oklahoma City skyline visible through the glass. He turned back to Elara. “Was it all just a dream?"

"Was it?" Elara asked, her smile playful. "Have you considered the alternative?"

"What alternative?"

"That your world is the dream. And in any case, what reality isn't a dream? Why is anything here at all? Power lies in perception, where we choose to turn our attention. Does it not?"

Justin found he was in no mood for riddles. "So I can leave and go back to Earth through these doors. And if I stay? What happens then?”

Her gaze softened, though her voice carried a somber note. “You face the trials ahead. The Vault, the drake, the Baron. Death may come for you, but so might triumph. That is the nature of Creation. It is harsh, but it is also alive, vibrant, and full of purpose. And make no mistake...it is very real. Perhaps what you truly seek lies within it.”

Justin took a step forward, his chest tightening. “You’re saying it’s my choice. That all this—” he gestured around him, “—depends on me?”

Elara inclined her head. “All things do. The mind is boundless, and the Star has given you the power to transcend limits. Choose, Justin. But know this: once you step through those doors, there is no going back.”

Her words hung in the air. Justin’s heart pounded as he stared at the EXIT, the possibilities swirling in his mind like a storm.

He turned back to Elara, his voice trembling. “If I go…will I remember any of this?"

Elara’s expression softened. “At first, perhaps. But in time, as a dream fades with the morning, so too will these memories. You will return changed by the journey, in ways you cannot yet comprehend. Even if the details blur, the essence of what you have learned will remain.”

His chest tightened, his mind grasping at the fleeting images of Lila’s laughter, Eldrin’s steady guidance, and Kargan’s unwavering loyalty. Would those connections truly dissolve, leaving only faint impressions he could never grasp again? Could he bear to let them go, even if it allowed him to return to the life he once knew?

"Am I really in a coma like that? Or was I shown this because the idea has occurred to me before? Or have I been dead all along?"

“You seek absolutes in a world of shifting truths, Justin. Were you in a coma? Perhaps. Were you dead? Perhaps not. Does it matter, when everything you are, everything you will be, will crystallize with your next choice?”

She took a step closer, the gentle glow of her presence filling the space between them. Justin caught the aroma of mountain breezes, the sweet perfume of flowers. “What matters is this: the Star reveals what your heart needs to see, what your mind must confront, before you are allowed to bear it. It has no single truth to give you. You are alive, as you define life. You are here, as you define presence. Whether this moment was born of death, slumber, or something else entirely is irrelevant. The path forward remains yours to choose.”

Her gaze was steady, unyielding yet kind. “And the question is not what has been, but what will be. What truth will you write for yourself, Justin? Do not fear what is forgotten. Do not pine for what is past. The mind is a vast tapestry. Not every thread is visible to the eye.”

Justin swallowed hard, his gaze shifting between her and the glowing EXIT. The thought of losing everything—the good, the bad, the triumphs and failures—was almost unbearable. But so was the thought of staying and facing the next trial, one that could end him entirely.

He might never get this opportunity again. It was all he ever wanted. But if that was so, then why was it so hard to leave?

Elara stepped aside, her radiant presence no longer blocking the doors. “The choice is yours. Step through, and find peace in the familiar. Fix your mistakes, go back to your old life, and forget this ever happened. Or stay, and let this world test you further. There is no wrong answer. Only the path you choose.”

Justin’s mind raced. He thought of his mother’s face, her joy at seeing him awake. That could be real. He also thought of the sterile hospital room and the stars outside the window that didn’t twinkle.

For some reason, he believed Elara. He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that if he walked through those old doors, his old life would come back.

Just as true as if he stayed, he'd go right back to that cavern and be in the middle of the battle with a drake in the middle of attacking him. A battle he might not survive at all.

"You never told me how I should decide to stay," Justin said.

Elara’s eyes shimmered with something between sadness and admiration. She nodded down the atrium, past the empty reception desk. For the first time, Justin noticed a shimmering ovoid portal at the end of a corridor. “Then you go through there and face the trials ahead. You will stand against Vorthyrn, the Baron. And if you survive them, the countless challenges this world will throw at you. But you will do so while carrying the Sapphire Star, with all its blessings and costs. And perhaps you will discover a strength and a role within you that you never imagined you possessed.”

Justin’s breath hitched. The weight of her words pressed on him, but so did the promise they held. The sterile, quiet halls of the hospital felt suffocating now. If he went back to his old life, would he truly be alive? Or would it be like before, merely existing? Had his journey and adventures in Eyrth really come to an end?

The choice was heavier than anything he had ever felt. He looked down and noticed the Sapphire Star sitting next to the Amulet of Equilibrium on his chest, its blue light pulsing faintly.

The EXIT sign above glowed softly. His mother’s face flashed through his mind, the joy in her eyes when he’d woken. Maybe he could go back to college. Get a job. Perhaps even meet a nice girl and get married.

He had the power to choose. These possibilities called to him.

But so did Eyrth.

He thought of Lila, her presence calming, lending him a strength he didn't know he had. Eldrin, who was always ready with a plan and had the bravery to carry it out. He remembered Kargan, his gruff demeanor and self-doubt hiding a deep well of loyalty and strength. Even trusty Shadowflight, soaring with the Star of Elara clutched in its talons.

All that could be reality, too, if only for a few more moments.

But it could also not be. Elara had mentioned Justin had the power to decide if they even existed. If he chose his old life, they would not suffer for it. They would simply cease to be.

At that moment, it seemed as if Eldrin's voice were speaking in his head.

We have the bond of adventurers, no matter where our travels take us.

He had said that in the Moonlit Alehouse, what seemed like so long ago. It was a reminder of the friendships he'd be leaving behind. Was he ready to do that?

Next came Lila's. You’re not alone, Justin. You have friends here who see your worth and stand by your side.

Did he ever really have that in his old life? Elara had said Eyrth was as real as his own world. The question was, did he trust her? And the more important question was, did it even matter?

Kargan's voice came next, with something unexpected. I never dreamed I would see an Elf in all my days.

The seeming randomness of the quote brought a smile to his face. Kargan had said that during the Vault in Eldareth. It was a reminder of all the wonders he would never see if he left now.

And yet, what about his mom, his only tie to the previous world? To stay here would be selfish, to be denying her his presence when he had the power to give it back. After losing Dad and Connor, Justin was all she had left. If he stayed, he wouldn't have a chance to right his wrongs, to become the person he was meant to be.

The question was, what would she want? If she knew he was happy here, would Justin have her blessing? What if he still had things to learn about himself?

Just stepped forward, and the automatic doors pulled apart to reveal a cool night breeze and the Oklahoma City skyline. He hesitated. It would be so easy to step through, to leave behind the battles and dangers. To go back to a world where magic didn’t exist, where he could heal, and maybe start over.

But something held him back.

Deep in his heart, he felt the truth of Elara’s words. This world was no more real than the one he had fought so hard to survive.

And in Eyrth, he had something he had never had on Earth: purpose.

Maybe he would go back someday. When the time was right.

“Sorry, Mom,” Justin whispered.

He closed his eyes and took a step back. The doors shut, sealing the other life away.

Justin turned and was surprised to see Elara was no longer there. Beyond the empty reception desk lay the quiet hallway. At the end of it loomed the blue portal, just like the one he'd seen in the funnel of that tornado.

He walked forward, his movements growing steadier with each passing moment.

The air seemed to warp as he got closer, charged with an inexplicable energy. It was as though the building itself was holding its breath, waiting. Overhead, the sterile fluorescent lights flickered. One by one, they began to extinguish, plunging the corridor into deepening shadows.

By the time the last light went out, Justin was left in utter darkness, aside from the faint, shimmering portal before him.

I'm really doing this, he thought.

As his mind wrestled with the enormity of it all, something deep within him felt settled—a rare clarity that pushed his fears and doubts aside.

For the first time in a long while, his path felt…right. Not because it was easy or safe, but because it was his.

He stepped forward, his pulse pounding. The air around the portal buzzed, pulling at him like an unseen current. A chill spread through his skin, followed by a strange warmth, as if the boundary between two worlds was brushing against him.

The moment he touched the portal’s edge, the pull became irresistible. He was yanked forward with a force that stole his breath, his vision flooding with dazzling, kaleidoscopic light. Colors swirled, shapes twisted, and sound collapsed into a deafening silence. The world fell away, leaving only a void.

Then, out of the darkness, a single line of glowing text appeared in his vision.

[Core Alteration Complete! Ascendant Benefits Unlocked.]