A soft groan slipped from Magnus’s closed lips as he shifted slightly. The warmth of the sun bathed his body, its light filtering through his closed eyelids and causing his face to scrunch up even in sleep. For what felt like ten or twenty minutes, he hovered in a state of exhaustion and discomfort, teetering on the edge of wakefulness. Eventually, the discomfort tipped the scales, dragging him into consciousness.

His eyes fluttered open and shut a few times as he turned his head away from the window, where sunlight poured in relentlessly. A moment of confusion followed—an unsettling haze of not knowing where he was, what time it was, or how he had ended up here.

The pounding headache in his skull made everything worse, hammering at the front of his head like an insistent drumbeat. A wave of nausea churned his stomach, threatening to spill over with every small movement. Slowly, he pieced together his surroundings.

I… I’m in my room?

He pushed himself upright, though the motion sent a spike of pain through his head, like a nail being driven into his temple. Grimacing, he pressed a hand to his forehead and scanned the room. He was right—this was his bedroom, and as far as he could tell, he was alone. But something was off. Magnus was used to waking up cocooned in the familiar softness of his custom-made pajamas. Instead, all he could feel was the cool, free breeze brushing against his skin. The odd sensation prompted him to glance down.

He was naked. Not even a stitch of undergarments protected his more... vulnerable areas. At some point last night, it seemed, he’d managed to fall asleep entirely naked.

“What the fuck...” He muttered, his voice rough and tinged with disbelief. The words barely left his mouth before another sharp stab of pain surged through his headache, making him wince.

Ugh, damn it. Basker!

The mental call roused the secondary entity in his mind. Basker reacted quickly, activating [Perfective Regeneration] without needing further instruction. Within moments, the pounding in Magnus’s head subsided, the heaviness in his limbs vanished, and the nausea that had threatened to guide whatever was in his stomach up his throat settled completely. His body, now refreshed, felt like his own again.

Basker, note to future self: if I ever drink again, keep regeneration at the ready.

[Of course, Master.]

With that out of the way, Magnus stood up from his bed, confirming once again that he was completely naked. Glancing back, he noted the disarray of his bed—it looked more like it had been caught in a whirlwind than slept in by an actual person. Letting out a slow sigh, he tried to search his memory for any clues about what had happened.

His attempt was interrupted as his foot landed in something moist and chunky. Frowning, he looked down and immediately identified the yellowish-green liquid as vomit.

“Ugh…” A drawn-out groan of disgust escaped him as he lifted his foot, the half-dried mess clinging unpleasantly to his skin. Judging by the partially digested contents, it was his. From the way it had dried in spots, he guessed he must have vomited over the side of the bed in his sleep without realizing it.

Well, at least I know what my first task is today.

He visualized a small sphere of water into existence and carefully controlled it, swirling the liquid it was made of rapidly to clean his foot and the floor. It wasn’t the most efficient method, but it got the job done. Once the vomit was suspended in the water sphere, he moved to the balcony, opened the doors, and flung the sphere out at high speed. Once he was satisfied it wouldn’t land anywhere inconvenient, he released his control, letting it fall harmlessly to the ground below.

Alright, superficial cleaning is done. Now for an actual bath. I don’t know what the hell happened last night, but dear lord, I need one.

Magnus spent several minutes searching his room—his bed, under it, every corner he could think of—but his clothes were nowhere to be found. Eventually, he stood in the middle of his room, frowning. Resigning himself, he reached into his storage ring and retrieved a fresh set of pajamas. As he slipped them on, the questions started swirling again.

Where the hell did my clothes go? And what happened last night? Why can’t I remember anything?

Though it wasn’t a direct question, Basker chimed in any way.

[The memories of last night are currently fragmented and scrambled between your mind and body; they’re out of sync.]

Yeah, I can feel that much, but why? I thought the Command Console kept my mind protected from outside influences. Wouldn’t that include getting drunk?

[Master, do you remember what Evelyine told us about the mind and mental reality?]

Magnus nodded subtly, even as confusion flickered across his face at the random question. He recalled Evelyine’s explanation about the two halves of existence: Physical Reality and Mental Reality. Physical Reality housed the tangible universe and his body, while Mental Reality was the intangible realm where the mind and things of that nature resided.

[That’s why you still feel affected. The brain and the mind are two separate entities—one tangible, the other intangible. I would think of the body as akin to the drones of your old world: a vessel the mind uses to interact with the physical realm. The brain acts as the relay point between the two.]

As he finished dressing, Magnus mulled over Basker’s words. After a moment, a light of understanding dawned.

I think I get it. So, if the soul is the link between the mind and body, it’s kind of like a wireless signal, right? Whenever we want to do something, the mind decides, and that decision gets transmitted to the body via the soul. It’s like a controller sending commands to an RC drone. But unlike an RC drone, the connection works both ways.

[Exactly, Master. Though I can’t directly observe or influence the soul, my understanding is this: when ‘you’—your body—see, feel, or experience something, that information goes to the brain. The brain, as the focal point of the connection, sends that data to the mind via the soul for the real ‘you’ to interpret.]

Magnus frowned thoughtfully, linking it all back to why he’d woken up feeling so awful and why his memories of the previous night were so fragmented, despite the Command Console’s protection.

Right... so when you get drunk, it’s not your mind that gets messed up—it’s your body. Your brain.

All kinds of things could happen when you got drunk—coordination went out the window, judgment got clouded, and even recognizing danger became a struggle. But the most striking part was how alcohol seemed to create a different version of yourself. Sometimes the change was small, other times dramatic, but the root cause was always the same: your mind and brain falling out of sync. Normally, the two worked seamlessly together, but when alcohol-impaired your brain and body, your mind was left as the only functioning part. It was like trying to pilot an RC drone with a damaged receiver.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The brain sent the mind corrupted, inaccurate data shaped by its drunken state. The mind, in turn, tried to send commands back, but the brain misinterpreted those instructions without even realizing it.

Memories were hit just as hard. What was usually a smooth transmission to the mind became fragmented, distorted, and incomplete. The mind had to piece together the scraps, often making sense of garbled or missing details. The end result was incomplete memories—something even Basker couldn’t fix. After all, the issue wasn’t with Magnus’s mind, but with the unreliable data his brain had passed along. Basker, relying on Magnus’s body to perceive the world just like his mind, had been equally affected by the drunken haze.

“Agh, what a mess…” Magnus muttered, rubbing the back of his head. It was a relief to understand why his memory was in shambles, but it didn’t solve the immediate problem. With a resigned sigh, he shrugged off the thought.

Oh well. Bath first, then I’ll try to find my clothes.

Heading to the door, he stepped out into the hallway. At least his body was fully functional now. If he’d left his room in the state he’d woken up in, he’d definitely have been complaining about the brightness. As he closed the door behind him, a soft gasp caught his attention.

“Hm?” He turned to look and found Marilyn standing nearby, a cup of water in her hands. Her wide-eyed stare was accompanied by a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Oh, hey Marilyn,” Magnus greeted, snapping her out of her stunned state. She blinked, then smiled, though it seemed slightly strained—not fake, just awkward.

“Hi, Magnus. I, uh… didn’t expect you to be up so soon. I was on my way to leave this on your desk for when you woke up,” she explained, gesturing to the cup in her hands. Hearing that, Magnus let out an internal sigh of relief. Ever since waking up naked, the thought that someone might’ve seen him like that had been gnawing at him.

“Oh, thanks. Actually, I’m feeling pretty thirsty now,” he said as he walked over, reaching for the cup. As his hand neared, he couldn’t help but notice the way Marilyn’s posture stiffened. She quickly pulled her hands back the moment he grabbed the cup, and her reaction made him frown slightly.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, watching as Marilyn’s expression turned awkward.

“Do… do you not remember what you did during the banquet last night?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. Once again, Magnus tried to sift through the fragments of his memory. He could clearly recall most of the evening up to a point, but after that, everything blurred into flickers and gaps. He didn’t remember doing anything outlandish while still sober, so whatever she was referring to must have happened after things got hazy.

“Uh, not really. I woke up feeling like crap, and my memory’s got more holes than Swiss cheese. Mind filling me in?” His question was straightforward enough, but he caught the flicker of panic in Marilyn’s eyes. She shifted nervously, her hands fidgeting with one another.

“I see… Well, um… I’m not really sure where to start. I mean, at first, everything seemed fine. But as the banquet went on and you drank more, you started getting a bit… rowdy,” she explained hesitantly. Magnus furrowed his brow.

“Rowdy? What do you mean by that?” Marilyn’s eyes widened slightly as she raised her hands and shook her head quickly.

“Oh, no, not in a bad way! Actually, it was really fun,” Marilyn assured him. “You got up and started talking to the villagers at the banquet and putting on performances with your magic. Like, you made animals out of different elements above the crowd, put on light shows with these weird rainbow flames, and even did a few tricks.” Listening to someone describe events he had no recollection of was surreal, to say the least. Magnus didn’t consider himself particularly antisocial, but if given the choice, he’d much rather stay in than go out to an event.

As for performing in front of a large crowd, showing off tricks like some kind of entertainer? That was fairly far outside his comfort zone, so it sounded like an alternate version of himself had taken over.

Still, it doesn’t sound so bad.

Or so he assumed until Marilyn continued.

“But after a while, you started singing and dancing with the villagers. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a song like that before, but eventually, everyone started singing along and dancing with you.” Magnus’s face went blank for a moment.

“What?” He muttered, but Marilyn didn’t pause, pressing on with her recounting.

“Things really started spiraling out of control once you began taking requests from the other villagers—who were also really drunk, by the way. A few of them asked if you could juggle three tables at once. You did manage it, but… well, you didn’t let them move the food or drinks first, so everything spilled everywhere. And when you tried to clean it up by summoning water, that just made a bigger mess. Then you dropped the tables, which almost hit some people and ruined even more tables.” Magnus didn’t say a word as he listened to Marilyn recount the escalating disaster. His mouth stayed shut, but internally, he was screaming.

After the whole table-juggling fiasco, things didn’t calm down in the slightest. If anything, they escalated, with Marilyn recounting one chaotic event after another.

“So, after you stopped trying to cook Freddie’s fowl with bolts of lightning,” she said, her tone carrying a hint of amusement and exhaustion, “Mary and I finally managed to get you to sit back down at the table. Though…” She hesitated for a moment before continuing.

“It was a little hard to get used to you calling her… uh, I think it was Wendy?” Magnus pinched the bridge of his nose but stayed silent as she continued.

“At that point, we couldn’t really understand what you were talking about anymore. You started rambling about something called ‘shows’—I’m not sure what those are—and comparing everyone to people I’ve never heard of. After that, you just sort of… fell asleep on my, um, lap for the rest of the banquet.” Marilyn’s cheeks flushed slightly at the memory, while Magnus processed everything she’d just said. On the outside, his expression was as close to neutral as possible. Inside, though, he wanted to curl into a ball and vanish from existence.

Great. I basically committed social suicide. Amazing. Never thought I’d be so excited to leave a village the morning after a celebration.

Marilyn stayed quiet, watching him with an uncertain expression as he stared off into space. After a long pause, she finally spoke up.

"Are… are you sure you’re okay?" Marilyn asked, her voice tinged with concern. Magnus took a deep breath before nodding.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for letting me know what happened; I really didn’t remember any of that.” With that, he took a big gulp of the water Marilyn had brought him, as though trying to wash down the lingering embarrassment along with his thirst. When he finished, he let out another breath, calmer now.

“Well, sorry about that. I’ll have to apologize to the elders before I leave. I didn’t mean to ruin everyone’s night,” he said, his voice genuine with regret. But Marilyn shook her head, this time with a more natural smile.

“No, it’s fine. It was a bit… chaotic, sure, but I think everyone had fun in the end.” She paused, her smile faltering slightly.

“But… are you really leaving today?” Her question and the subtle disappointment in her tone brought a more grounded atmosphere to the conversation. Magnus nodded, though he hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“Yeah. As much as I’d like to stay and help out more—and make sure Seraline recovers okay—I have something I need to take care of. I’ll probably be leaving in a couple of hours.” Marilyn gave a slow nod, her expression thoughtful.

“Hmm, okay then.” A moment of silence passed between them before Magnus remembered a question that had been nagging at him, and he used it to lighten the mood.

“Oh, before I forget. Who brought me back to my room?”

“It was Seraline,” Marilyn answered easily.

“The little boy she had with her was getting tired, so when she went back to her room, she offered to bring you up too.” Hearing that, Magnus felt a small wave of relief. Based on Marilyn’s recounting of the banquet, he’d made a mess of himself, drenching himself in the process. Seraline bringing him back to his room explained why he’d woken up naked. It wasn’t ideal that she had likely seen him like that, but if he was honest with himself, she was probably the best-case scenario.

Better than what I thought happened, at least. If I’d stripped in front of everyone at the banquet… yeah, I’d probably just leave without saying a word.

Satisfied to have that mystery cleared up, Magnus turned back to Marilyn.

“Alright. I’m going to take a bath and get ready to leave.”

“Oh, okay,” Marilyn said, her tone lighter now.

“I only came up here to give you the water, so I’ll be downstairs on the first floor helping out. Mary should be down there too.”

“Got it,” Magnus replied with a small nod before walking past her, heading towards the baths. As he walked, only one thought lingered at the forefront of his mind:

Mom was right. I’m never getting drunk again.