Alexander's eyes burst open with shaky breaths. He instantly sat up in a bed, his face beaded in sweat. He quickly grabbed the sides of his head, letting out labored exhales in his manic confusion.

Memories of the night before flooded his brain in a millisecond. All of the mental anguish he endured with the nightmare he had been shown, everything he had done to Lilith, and the battle against the Titan of Life. All of it poured into him and left him empty.

He swallowed his sudden urge to vomit as he finally noticed his surroundings.

Alexander was sitting in a bed. And, painfully so, that bed was in someone else's home. The room itself wasn't special but the simple view of the interior and the wooden walls proved how large the house truly was.

The room was painted white, just like the tiles on the floor. Practically everything had been painted the same pale color, in fact. All except the brown wooden bed frame and the chair that was beside it.

And it was Anastasia Velda who occupied that wooden chair, her eyes shut as she slept in silence. He spat out a sigh. Of course, she's tired. From sunrise to midnight, they had been all over the realm, through battles and chaos.

She was getting much-needed rest. The only problem was that she slept in a chair and nothing else.

Still seated upright, Alexander turned around to the vast window behind him. Yellow-orange light poured through the window, gleaming past the forest right outside. The singular sight of evergreen proved one thing. He could be anywhere on the realm.

The sun was rising. Considering the time of night it was when he had found the other Virtues, Alexander guessed he had been unconscious for about eight hours. And as many questions as he had right now, he didn't want to wake up Anastasia.

If anything, her presence proved they were safe.

Still, he spat out a sigh. For the whole eight hours, he was unconscious. Not asleep. He was still incredibly tired. His pounding headache didn't help anything either. He had so many questions among his relentless confusion. And the lack of physical anguish was one of the reasons for that confusion.

He slapped himself all over his chest. Alexander finally realized he wore a white tunic instead of anything he had prior. And he wasn't bleeding. Other than the slight pain he felt as he hit his sides, Alexander was perfectly fine.

Maybe not perfectly, he considered, but it was a drastic improvement to what he felt right before he blacked out.

"No sudden movements, boy," a voice called. "Nobody would want your wounds reopening, correct?"

"...Huh?"

"Your wounds. If you put too much pressure on your body, you'll split yourself open."

Alexander stared at him in silence.

"Jeez, that was a joke," the 'deity' clarified. "Don't be so tense. Still, if you do specific things, your wounds will reopen. That won't be good."

"Who... Who are you?" Alexander asked in confusion.

"I'm..." he paused. "I'm essentially a descendent of a Vanir. A demi-god by some standards, a deity by others. As for my name... Well, you wouldn't be able to pronounce it so just call me Patrick."

"...Why Patrick?"

"He was a human saint, I think. Killed a bunch of snakes or something. I think that's pretty cool."

Still confused, Alexander continued to ask questions. "Why... Why did you help us?" he asked, placing his bare feet onto the floor and beginning to stand up. Well, beginning to try.

'Patrick' rushed over to him and grabbed him by the shoulder. "Easy, boy. Stay still for a bit," he said, urging Alexander to sit back down. And as Alexander did, Patrick continued to answer. "We met some of your human accomplices in the days prior. Lumiel Solaire and the blonde boy whose name I can't remember. He had a bad attitude."

He was talking about Gabriel, Alexander figured. So this man was the deity that Lumiel had mentioned. The one that Alexander figured would have some relation to Grisha. And even though he was the only one present, Alexander knew there was more of these Vanir descendants. Patrick had used the word 'we' to confirm that. Alexander swallowed his dry saliva.

It was then that he realized. "Um... I'm dehydrated. Can you... Can I have some water?"

"Of course," Patrick said with a smile. He extended the palm of his hand. And with nothing but a wisp of air, a glass filled with water appeared. "Enjoy," he said, as Alexander grabbed the cup. He began to step away with a smile. "The Golden Dawn has started heading towards the island of Khasmic. I suggest you wake up your friend so you may prepare."

"Huh?" Anastasia asked.

Alexander turned to her. Her eyes were still shut as she said that. And with that, Anastasia Velda began to rub her hands across her tired eyes, slowly and quietly before she spoke.

"I'm glad you're awake," she said, her eyes still half-shut in her tiredness. She smiled at him as their eyes began to meet.

"...I'm- I'm glad you're awake, too," he responded. "So... Where... Where are we?" Alexander finally asked. "Location-wise, I mean."

Anastasia looked through the window beside them. "I don't really know, to be honest. According to Patrick or whatever his real name is, they can actively change the location that this house resides in. Essentially, it's spatial magic. Which contradicts what the king said about spatial magic on Vanaheim. But that's not the weirdest thing we've experienced, so just accept that."

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Alexander turned back to Patrick. Or rather, where Patrick once stood. Since Anastasia opened her eyes, the semi-deity had disappeared. And yet, Alexander's cup of water had refilled each time he finished it.

He smiled at that before placing it onto the floor beside his bed.

And just like earlier, Patrick appeared from air and nothingness. "I was the one who healed you up," he clarified. "You were in terrible shape. I even had to perform surgery. Do you understand how horrible your state was, that my sorcery wasn't enough to heal you?! I had to use those so-called sciences! And medical tools!" He shuddered as those words left his lips.

Alexander swallowed his dry saliva. "Well... Thank you. I guess- I guess I'm indebted to you."

"Damn right you are." Still, Patrick continued. "Plus, I did you the favor and removed your appendix."

Alexander furrowed his eyebrows and paused. 'Wait...' The appendix was on the right side. And Alexander's wound was on his left. He confusedly turned to Anastasia. "He's joking, right?" he whispered.

"...I actually have no idea."

Alexander looked down his tunic. Both sides of his lower abdomen carried injured tissue. On his right, there was a thin, already sewn scar. As for his left...

Alexander furrowed his eyebrows at that sight. It was normal skin.

But that was the strange part. Stranger than his current situation. Instead of scarred and contorted flesh from his open wound, what sat there was simple skin. It was almost perfect as if he hadn't gotten struck by a bullet of wood, as if he hadn't forced the projectile out of his guts with his fingers.

He put his hand into his shirt and traced his hand across his gut was pierced. The skin, the muscle, even the blood flow was perfect, as if his hadn't gone through hell. "Well, damn," he mumbled to himself.

Patrick smiled once again. "The way the skin reformed... That wasn't me."

Alexander looked up to him, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes widened. "...What?!"

His dark verdant eyes locked with Alexander's. "One of the very, very few benefits of being a Demon-Born. ...Well, what you're capable of isn't for Demon-Borns in general. You're just different. And because of that, pure magic energy is capable of restoring your body. And over time, such as these eight hours, followed by my treatment obviously, your body reinforces itself. Understand?"

"I... I guess."

Before Alexander could say anything else, Patrick tossed a plastic bag onto his lap. "Here you go," he said.

Alexander and Anastasia looked at the transparent bag. Inside it was a thin pinkish tube. Pale and crimson fluids sludged around as the two of them stared and processed it.

Alexander was the first to speak. "...Is that-"

"What?" Patrick asked. "It's not like it had any use to you," he said, shrugging to himself.

"Ew!" Anastasia shouted. She shot up from her chair and yanked the plastic bag before throwing it to the opposite end of the room. "Why would you show that to us?" she asked Patrick.

Alexander's removed appendix was in that bag. And... "As disgusting as that is, I don't think you should've thrown it."

She spat out a sigh and sat back down. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"Maybe not throw one of my organs across someone else's home?"

Anastasia kept herself silent to that.

At the same instant, the door at the side burst open. Hjálmarr and Leonard quickly crashed through.

"Alexander!" Leonard shouted. And at the same time, Hjálmarr cried out, "My liege!"

Unlike Leonard who simply walked towards them, Hjálmarr ran, tripping and sliding onto the floor. Still, he forced himself and dashed again.

With rapid ferocity, he wrapped his arms around Alexander and smiled. "I'm so glad you're alive, my liege," Hjálmarr declared, holding Alexander and pushing his head onto his chest.

Alexander was confused but hugged him back, smiling in the process. "I'm glad you're okay, too, Hjálmarr."

He paused. "You're hugging me a bit too tightly, Hjálmarr," Alexander coughed out.

"Oh! My apologies, my liege!" the elf said, still laughing a bit as he released Alexander. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm doing great, actually. Plus I drank some kind of holy water. It's been a good morning," he said, chuckling as he spoke.

Lumiel and Leonard quickly approached them.

Alexander's smile widened as he saw the two. "Hi-"

And before he could finish his greeting, Leonard shoved a ceramic plate of steaming pizza near his face. Leonard was unnecessarily giddy. "Try it. It's amazing. For a realm with no Italians on it, they really know how to cook!"

Lumiel passed another plate to Anastasia and sat down alongside, immediately as Alexander grabbed the plate from him.

Lumiel stared at him with her verdant eyes in silence. Still, it wasn't long before that stare turned into a light smile as she finally spoke. "You went through a lot by yourself, huh?" she said, running her hands through Alexander's jet black hair and ruffling it.

"Well, I wasn't really by myself. Giovanna and Hjálmarr both helped me out," he said. He raised his head and locked eyes with Lumiel. "You don't really have to... touch my hair, y'know?"

"Considering the fact that I'm older than you and everything we've been through, I'm practically your older sister. I was worried about you. Don't fight it," she said, her slight smile widening to a grin.

Leonard jumped in once again. "Still, we're just glad you're okay," he said as Alexander began to eat. "And, hey, we get free food. Pizza, at that."

Alexander smiled. "It's a good thing these guys managed to help us," he said, staring around the room. "Even with Hjálmarr's abilities, I think I would've ended up dying," he said, laughing before taking another bite of the pizza. "Would've preferred something easier on the stomach, though," he said.

Anastasia stared at him. "That's your problem with the whole situation?"

"...I mean, I'm not complaining. It's practically the only thing I've eaten in almost 24 hours," he said, laughing again.

She sighed. "The way you can just accept the way things are... has always confounded me."

He turned to her with a smile and a shrug. "Where's Morgana, by the way?" His eyes widened.

Alexander jumped up from the bed. "Is she okay?!"

"The Asgardian girl? Yes, she's fine. According to the elf, she's alive because of you. Fine and dandy, and all that."

Alexander spat out a sigh. "Thank God. Where is she though?"

"Where's who?" Morgana asked.

Everyone in the room spun towards her. Alexander's face lit up immediately as he turned to the white-haired Demon-Born. The way Morgana could randomly teleport to people was a terrifying concept to him at times, but now it simply brought joy.

He dropped to her and quickly wrapped his arms around her. Alexander spat out a sigh. "I'm glad you're safe," he muttered.

Morgana's face spread with a smile. "Why wouldn't I be safe? You protected me, remember?"

Alexander paused as he separated himself. "Oh, yeah," he said, squinting as he tried to recall each event of the previous night. "Pretty much everything I remember after White Light is hazy. Hell, even a couple of seconds before that. I don't know if it's blood loss or just the way White Light works, but whatever. I'm still glad."

Morgana remained smiling. "I'm also glad you're okay," she said.

Alexander's grin widened. "Thanks," he said as he raised his palm.

Morgana turned to confusion as she stared at his raised hand. "...What?"

"It's a high five."

Again, "...What?"

"You don't know what a high five is?"

The Asgardian girl shook her head. And again, Alexander smiled. He gripped her wrist and opened her hand.

He brought their hands together and impacted their palms.

"That's a high five," he said with a smile.

She stared at her hand after the collision. "Okay, but... Why?"

"...It's fun." Alexander continued and lowered his hand, his palm still floating. "And this... This is called down low."

Morgana stared as she understood. She quickly opened her hand again and slammed her palm downward. But...

She only struck air as Alexander swiped his hand back. His face was adorned with a grin. "Too slow."

Her face lit up in slight anger and not-so-slight joy. "Hey!" she complained.

Alexander burst into laughter.

The chatter of the Virtues and the others continued on. Before any of them quieted down, Anastasia Velda leaned towards Alexander. She stared at him, before grabbing hold of his wrist and pulling him up. "Come on," she said. "Let's talk."