The next morning didn't collide with me; it crawled.
The "stinging yellow" of Ishabana's sun was back, but this time it wasn't a blur. It was sharp, illuminating the ridiculous luxury of the recovery suite. Every surface was polished to a mirror finish, and the air was thick with the scent of lilies that were definitely too expensive to be natural.
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, testing my legs. They didn't feel like lead anymore, but there was a strange, humming vibration deep in my marrow—like my bones were trying to tune themselves to a frequency I couldn't hear.
"You're pushing it," a voice noted.
I didn't have to look up to know it was her. Himeno was standing by a holographic display, her fingers dancing through streams of my biological data. She looked as if she hadn't slept a wink, yet she looked flawless.
"I'm fine, Himeno," I muttered, gripping the edge of the silk sheets.
She stopped. With a sharp flick of her wrist, the holographic display hissed and vanished, folding back into a small device on her wrist. She turned to me, her eyes tracking the slight tremor in my hands with the cold precision of a hawk.
"I believe I told you yesterday: it is Queen Himeno," she corrected, her voice smooth but carrying a dangerous edge. "Unless you've suddenly forgotten whose medicine is currently keeping your nervous system from liquefying."
I looked up, meeting her gaze. I wasn't trying to be difficult—I just couldn't bring myself to care about the hierarchy when my head was still full of ash and broken helmets.
"I remember," I said, my voice dropping. "But the voice in my head doesn't care about titles. We need to talk about the coin, Himeno. And we need to slow down."
Her eyebrows arched. She stepped closer, the clicking of her heels echoing off the marble floor. "Slow down? My doctors are calling your recovery a miracle of Ishabana science. I have the chance to refine the most unique energy signature on Chikyu, and you want to slow down?"
"It's not just energy," I snapped, the frustration finally bubbling over. "It's a hunger. When it surged back in Shugoddam, it didn't just fight Gira's light... it tried to consume it. It felt like it was trying to eat the world. And that voice... it's getting louder. It's cruel. It tells me that everyone out there—you, Sebastian, Racles—are just variables to be managed."
I stood up, my legs shaking, but I didn't sit back down. "If we keep pushing this, you won't have a soldier for your 'perfect' kingdom. You'll be waking up a monster that won't care about your borders or your crown."
Himeno didn't recoil at the word "monster." Instead, she stepped into my personal space, her gloved hand reaching out to tilt my chin upward so she could look directly into my pupils.
"A 'hunger' is just a metabolic deficit, and a 'voice' is usually a sign of neural fragmentation," she said, her voice dropping into a professional, clinical calm. "You underwent a massive psychic and physical discharge. I expect your brain to be searching for patterns where there are none."
"This isn't a pattern, Himeno. It's a memory that isn't mine," I insisted, pulling back.
She let her hand drop, but her gaze remained fixed. "I am the finest doctor on this planet. I have stitched together hearts that stopped beating and rebuilt lungs from nothing. If there is a 'hunger' in your cells, I will find the enzyme responsible. If there is a 'voice,' I will find the frequency and damp it."
She walked back to her holographic console, her expression turning from doctorly concern to royal ambition.
"You fear you are becoming a monster. But in Ishabana, we take the raw, the ugly, and the broken, and we make them beautiful. That is what I do. I am not going to 'slow down' because my patient is hearing echoes. I am going to accelerate the tests so we can define exactly what is talking to you—and how to make it obey my Will".
The air in the room grew heavy, the kind of weight that usually preceded a storm. Himeno didn't just look like a Queen—she looked like an architect about to renovate a condemned building, and I was the blueprint.
"You're not listening," I said, the words feeling like sandpaper in my throat. I walked toward the window, looking out at the lush, vibrant fields of Ishabana. It was too perfect. Too bright. "The coin... it didn't just save me. It chose me. And whatever was inside that vision—that command center, that shattered helmet—it wasn't a hallucination. It was a promise."
I turned back to her, my voice barely a whisper. "If you accelerate the tests, you're just opening the door wider for whatever is trying to get out. You're playing with a fuse you don't understand, Himeno."
She didn't look up from her display. The blue light reflected in her eyes, making them look like cold sapphires. "Then it's a good thing I have a talent for explosives," she countered.
She tapped a final command, and a low hum vibrated through the floor tiles. From the walls, several sleek, needle-like sensors extended, glowing with a soft amber light.
"Sebastian has prepared a high-calorie meal for you in the courtyard," she said, her tone returning to that brisk, untouchable elegance. "Eat. Gain your strength. Your first 'acceleration' begins at sunset. We are going to push that coin until it gives up its secrets, or until I find the 'variable' that makes you tick."
She finally looked at me, a sharp, challenging smile crossing her face. "Don't look so grim, BJ. If you're going to be a monster, at least have the courtesy to be a magnificent one. Now, go. I have a kingdom to keep beautiful, and a patient to reinvent."
As I walked out, the coin in my pocket felt heavier than a Shugod's soul. It wasn't just humming anymore. It was purring.
The automatic doors hissed shut behind me, severing the cold, hum of Himeno's monitors. I found myself in a long, glass-walled corridor that felt more like a display case than a hallway. To my left, the glass overlooked the inner workings of the palace—maids in yellow uniforms moving with military precision but to my right, it revealed the sprawling heart of the kingdom.
The air in the corridor was pressurized and perfectly filtered, but as I walked, the lab's antiseptic scent started losing the battle to something heavier… sweeter. Every few feet, I noticed small, recessed sensors in the ceiling tracking my movement, their amber lights blinking like tiny, watchful eyes.
By the time I pushed through the heavy double doors at the end of the hall, the transition was jarring.
The courtyard was a masterpiece of Ishabana's botanical ego. Rare flowers that shouldn't have been able to grow in the same climate were blooming in perfect, color-coded rows. In the center sat a white wrought-iron table, stacked high with enough food to feed a small squad of knights.
Sebastian stood there, his hands folded neatly behind his back, though his posture looked more exhausted than usual.
As I sat down, my body took over. I didn't even use the utensils at first. The "Ravenous" warning Himeno gave wasn't an exaggeration—it felt like my stomach was a black hole. I was halfway through a plate of high-protein steak before I even realized Sebastian was watching me.
"Slowly, Master BJ," Sebastian sighed,
pouring a glass of dark, nutrient-rich juice. "The Queen's chefs do not take kindly to people choking on their craft."
"She's not listening, Sebastian," I said between mouthfuls, my voice muffled. "I told her the coin is... different. It's dangerous. She wants to 'accelerate' it."
Sebastian paused, his gaze shifting toward the high balcony where Himeno's lab was located. He let out a long, weary breath—the sound of a man who had been the voice of reason for a woman who didn't believe in it.
"Her Majesty has many virtues," Sebastian began, his voice low and cautious. "She is the finest healer this world has ever seen. But... she is also profoundly selfish. Not in the way a common thief is selfish, mind you. "But when Her Majesty sees something she desires whether it is a rare flower, a piece of art, or even a patient who by all rights should be dead she becomes singular in her pursuit"
He leaned in slightly, his expression softening with a touch of genuine worry.
"She does not see the 'danger' you describe, BJ. She only sees the potential for a masterpiece. She has always been this way; if the world does not fit her vision of perfection, she will break it and rebuild it until it does. I have warned her that some powers are not meant to be 'beautified,' but..." He trailed off, his hand briefly tightening on the edge of a silver tray before he continued his work.
"But?" I paused, waiting for him to continue.
Sebastian exhaled through his nose, as if choosing his words carefully.
"she has never met a problem she couldn't solve with a scalpel or a decree," Sebastian finished. "She believes she can tame your 'voice' because she has never known a force of will stronger than her own. I fear, for both your sakes, that she is finally mistaken."
Sebastian's words hung in the air, heavier than the floral scent of the gardens. He wasn't just warning me about her selfishness; he was warning me about her overconfidence.
"She thinks she can fix a hurricane with a pair of tweezers," I muttered, pushing the empty gold-rimmed plate away. The hunger had subsided into a dull, throbbing heat behind my ribs. The coin wasn't just purring anymore; it felt like it was breathing in sync with my heart.
I looked at Sebastian, whose tired eyes seemed to apologize for the Queen's ambition. "If she wants to see what I'm 'capable' of, Sebastian... maybe I should stop trying to hold it back. Maybe the only way to get her to listen is to show her exactly how much of a 'masterpiece' this really is."
Sebastian straightened his waistcoat, his face paling slightly. "I would advise against provoking her, Master BJ. A Queen who is denied her vision can be... difficult."
"And a monster that's been poked with a needle is worse".