In the dark, the boy could see a red star flare up, sending visible distortions rippling across the black sky. Five other lights lit up in response, shading their own portion of the heavens with their own respective colours. Enthralled, his vision followed the invisible waves as they danced across the firmament, eventually stopping at a single point of light. The process had taken barely a few seconds, but to the boy, the beauty of such a spectacle lasted forever, and his eyes smiled as they regarded the single pinpoint of brilliance directly over him.

Gaius tried to reach out, and the scene before him shattered as he felt something weighing his arms down, revealing the drab ceiling of the Library of Ancients. A stack of blankets had been laid out with overwhelming neatness on his body, creating an impediment that most likely created the weighty feeling in the moments before he woke up.

As the ability to feel returned to the boy, Gaius writhed from the sheer feedback from his body and his nerves. His vision, clear just a few seconds open, misted over with tears and turned red a second later.

He trembled slightly, but that single motion was enough for something embedded in his left hand to activate, and a cooling sensation ran through his body as the wooden syringe-like object released its contents inside Gaius. Ecstasy flooded his mind, and he groaned slightly, the pain having receded from his consciousness.

Gingerly pushing the blankets off his body, the boy’s eyes habitually darted towards the corner of the hospital ward, where Nakama was, and a tingle ran down his spine as he noticed that her bed was empty.

A croak left his mouth as he tried to speak, but this time, there wasn’t any water canteen he’d prepared for himself. Before he could get up, however, the doors flew open, and a little figure ran in, a teenage girl following closely behind.

“Gaius!”

The little figure climbed onto the bed, before the teenage girl, Isabelle, picked her up and prevented her from getting any closer. “Don’t do that, Nakama! You’ll worsen his injuries that way!”

“Really?”

“Have I lied to you?”

“When you took my omelette…”

“That doesn’t count!”

Gaius watched the little exchange, bemused, and then another croak escaped his mouth as he tried to force some words out.

“Oh, right.” Isabelle took out a water canteen — which looked like it’d seen better days — and passed it over to him. Gaius sipped at the water slowly, cautiously, as the cooling liquid went down his throat and moistened it.

“Fank Qu.” Gaius frowned, and cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Isabelle placed Nakama back onto the bed slowly, after a quick, non-verbal conversation between the two of them using their eyes only. The little girl, under some specific direction by her older counterpart, crawled over to Gaius, and he smiled.

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She looked more like a baby doing so. Gaius reached out his hand slowly, and flicked her nose gently. Nakama sniffled, and before the boy could do anything other than widening his eyes, she’d burst into tears, mumbling what seemed to be butchered renditions of his name over and over.

Gaius’ heart twisted, and he hugged the little girl. “It’s okay. I’m back. I’m—”

The world changed abruptly, and the scenery changed from the interior of the Library to a snowed-over garden.

“—back.” An older Gaius, or what the boy called Memory-Gaius, was patting a crying person. He couldn’t tell if the person was a he or a she, but that wasn’t as relevant as the fact that a reunion between brother and sister had just been interrupted by a returning memory. The boy didn’t know how to react, as he was just reliving a memory, but he couldn’t help but feel quite annoyed at the horrible timing.

He placed his irritation aside for a moment, and then realised that the him in this memory was missing a few fingers from his left hand. As the view continued to shift and turn, Gaius noticed an ominous blood trail that led to Memory-Gaius.

The him on Earth was injured, and badly.

What on Earth did I do to be this injured? Surely the me back then knew that middle-aged men don’t go on assassination missions anymore, no? Gaius frowned at the apparent stupidity of himself on Earth. He couldn’t discount the possibility that there was a reason, however, but he was quite sure that the Gaius back then knew what he was getting into.

The vision faded away abruptly, and Gaius was once again back in the Library, patting Nakama and comforting her. To his left, Isabelle stood vigil, her hands wiping at her eyes. The little boy couldn’t blame the Knight for her emotional reaction, given that he was on the verge of tearing up himself. Nakama was more important to him than he cared to admit, and now that she was safe, the boy felt a load off his chest.

After a few more minutes of patting and muffled words, Gaius finally untangled himself from his little sister, and immediately frowned when he noted bloodstains on her clothes. Apparently, her tears had moisturised the dried blood on him, which had promptly rubbed off on her grey tunic. Gaius made Nakama go and wash herself up, and as Isabelle followed closely behind, the boy got up from the bed slowly.

“Good to see you awake, Master Gaius.” A small hole appeared on the ceiling, and a little wooden figurine fell from it.

Gaius raised his eyebrow at the sight. “I see you’ve obtained a new means of transportation around the Library. And you’ve remodelled it too.”

“Nothing two weeks’ worth of work can’t do,” said the sculpture. “But yeah, it’s great that you’re awake. Nakama and Isabelle have been worrying about you the entire time.”

“When did she wake up?”

“A day after you fainted, Master Gaius,” replied Nexus. “She was understandably confused when she woke up, and then proceeded to panic when she saw your bloodied and battered body a few beds away. If Isabelle hadn’t been there…”

“Looks like I owe her one.” Gaius knew just how much distress a child could feel when their loved ones were in mortal danger…and how much more it took to calm them down. Isabelle probably had a gift or two in talking and interacting with children.

“Definitely, Master Gaius. Always repay your debts.”

The boy smiled, and slowly slid off the bed. The pain plaguing him had been dampened, and even with his ability to stuff it into some dark corner of his mind, he could still feel the flames of pain licking at his nerves.

“How long would that last, Nexus?” Gaius asked.

“Would what last, Master Gaius?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” said the boy. “Don’t lie to me.”

“It’s a rather long story, so you should clean yourself up somewhat first,” replied the artificial intelligence. “We’ll talk after that.”

“…Fine.”