CHAPTER 178: GOING EASY

His bare feet hit the floor.

Cold. Not ice cold. Just ’get socks or suffer’ cold.

The apartment was quiet. Not eerily silent, just the kind that came with early mornings and the smell of cheap cereal.

He padded toward the kitchen, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Nathan was already there, leaning half-asleep against the counter with a mug of something that might’ve been coffee, tea, or whatever they’d found at the bottom of the pantry last night. He looked up.

"You’re awake."

"Clearly."

Nathan blinked slowly. "You sleep like a corpse."

’Technically not wrong.’

"I get that a lot," Merlin muttered, grabbing a chipped bowl from the stack beside the sink.

Nathan squinted at him. "You good?"

Merlin shrugged. "Define ’good.’"

"You’re walking. Talking. Not twitching or coughing blood. That’s already way above your usual standard."

"Then I’m great."

Nathan grunted and took another sip of his whatever-it-was. "What time’s the thing?"

"Evening," Merlin replied, scooping dry cereal into the bowl. No milk. Too risky. Last time they tried, Nathan nearly gagged on a chunk of floating mystery. "Still have a day to waste."

"Or prep."

"Or waste prepping."

Nathan raised an eyebrow. "You serious about this training thing?"

Merlin grabbed a spoon and shoved a bite into his mouth. "Do I look unserious?"

"Always."

Merlin snorted, chewing. The cereal was like chewing on sugared gravel.

But it was fine.

He didn’t need gourmet. He needed distractions. He needed motion. He needed something to keep his brain from spiraling back into that silver corridor and the weight of all those damn memories.

The system pinged.

[Skill Transfer Residue – Phase 3: Inert]

[Access Locked Until Physical Sync Catches Up]

[Body Adaptation Progress: 34%]

’Still only a third done?’

He exhaled through his nose. It wasn’t disappointment, just a quiet kind of ’of course it’s going to drag.’

Nathan leaned back against the counter.

"You’re acting off."

"Because I’m eating?"

"No. Because you’re not cracking jokes."

"I just woke up."

"Still."

Merlin looked at him, spoon halfway to his mouth.

"You wanna train or not?"

Nathan rolled his eyes. "Thought you’d never ask."

—

They made it out before the campus really came alive. The field behind the academy was still covered in mist, and dew clung to the edges of the sparring mats. The sun finally dragged itself up over the tree line, cutting slow gold across the gravel paths.

Merlin stood across from Nathan, sleeves rolled up. Nothing fancy. Just a basic stance, feet firm in the dirt, hands loose at his sides.

Nathan stretched his shoulders and yawned like this was a morning jog instead of a duel.

"You’re going easy this time, right?"

"No."

"I just woke up too, man."

"Not my problem."

Nathan sighed. "Fine, but if I get knocked into a tree again, I’m not fixing my own teeth."

They circled once. Casual. Calm.

Then Nathan lunged.

Merlin didn’t even blink.

One step. One angle change. Nathan’s fist swiped air and momentum betrayed him. Merlin tapped him in the ribs, not enough to knock him over, but enough to make him skid three steps sideways.

"Jesus," Nathan wheezed, hand on his side. "You used to hesitate, like, at least a second."

"Trying something new."

"Merciless efficiency?"

"Yeah."

Nathan shook it off and came again, this time feinting left and trying to slide under.

Merlin spun, barely more than a shift of balance, and caught him by the collar. He flipped him clean over.

Nathan landed with a grunt.

"Okay," he groaned, sprawled flat on his back. "That’s new."

Merlin stepped back, offering a hand. "You’re improving."

"I’m also getting my ass beat."

"Both can be true."

Nathan took the hand and got up, dusting off his back. "What did you do while you were ’dead,’ anyway?"

Merlin paused, just for a second.

’Burned. Bled. Watched a man become a monster. Lived through decades in days. Watched gods lie and die and lie again.’

"I had a dream," he said.

"Must’ve been a hell of a dream."

"Yeah," Merlin said, brushing hair from his face. "It was."

—

They went again. And again. And again.

Nathan landed some hits. Not a lot. But enough that Merlin didn’t coast. Not completely.

But it was clear.

He was different now.

Not just faster. Not just stronger.

There was a precision in how he moved that hadn’t been there before. Like every dodge was a rehearsal he’d run a thousand times. Like his body knew things it hadn’t earned.

Nathan staggered back, rubbing his chin.

"Okay. Last one."

"You sure?"

"No."

Merlin gave him three seconds. Then lunged.

And this time?

He didn’t hold back.

—

Nathan saw it.

Not just the motion, anyone could see that, but the shift.

The way Merlin’s weight shifted forward, heel pivoting, upper body folding in, hand flattening instead of fisting. The step was surgical. Measured. Like he wasn’t attacking out of instinct but out of memory. Like his body had done this before. Thousands of times.

Nathan didn’t dodge.

He tried.

Didn’t succeed.

Merlin’s palm met the side of his neck with the precision of a guillotine. Not enough to knock him out. But enough to collapse every plan Nathan had built in the three seconds of prep.

His vision blurred.

He stumbled back, coughed once, then wheezed out, "Jesus, what the hell was that?"

Merlin dropped the stance immediately. "You alright?"

"No." Nathan straightened, blinking hard. "What was that move?"

"A palm strike."

"That was not a palm strike. That was divine punishment in an open-hand format."

Merlin exhaled, just a little. "I didn’t mean to hit that hard."

Nathan gave him a look. "That wasn’t hard. That was intentional. You’re not just strong now. You’re like... trained."

’Because I was.’

"Better reflexes," Merlin said aloud. "More to work with."

"More to—" Nathan rubbed his throat, squinting. "Okay, what’s actually going on with you? You’ve been off since you woke up. And this isn’t the usual ’I didn’t sleep’ kind of off. This is, like, new-level weird."

Merlin walked over to the edge of the training mat and picked up the canteen. The metal was still damp with morning mist.

He didn’t answer right away.

’Telling him would make things easier.’

He sipped.

’I could say I have a system. That Rathan’s memories were burned into me. That I’ve lived a whole lifetime under someone else’s skin. That every time I blink I see blood and broken sky.’

But he didn’t say any of that.

"Just trying to keep up," he muttered.

Nathan didn’t look convinced. "Well, if you keep going like this, I’ll be the one trying to keep up. That’s new."

Merlin handed him the canteen. "Drink water."

"You’re dodging."

"You’re dehydrated."

"Fair."

Nathan drank and leaned back against a nearby post, wincing slightly as he rubbed his shoulder. "You know you moved like someone twice your age, right? But in a good way. Like you’ve been training with ghosts or something."

Merlin looked down at his hands.

’Close enough.’

[Body Adaptation Progress: 42%]

’Still going.’

Nathan wiped his mouth. "You think the others are still asleep?"

"Probably."

"You should show Elara some of those moves."

Merlin blinked. "What?"

"Don’t look at me like that. You two have this whole unspoken tension thing. She’d love an excuse to kick your ass."

Merlin gave him a flat look. "She already has. Twice."

"Exactly. A rematch would be good for you."

He looked away, focusing on a leaf slowly twirling to the ground.

’He’s not wrong.’

Merlin exhaled again and stretched out his shoulders. His muscles didn’t ache the way they used to after sparring.

They cooled. Like the pain had been replaced by rhythm. Efficiency. Like even his exhaustion had learned discipline.

The last thing Nathan said lingered though.

"You moved like you’ve been training with ghosts."

’Ghosts... yeah.’

That part wasn’t far off.

He still felt Rathan sometimes. Not in a haunted way. Just... present. Like a posture you pick up from someone you used to admire. Like a breath that isn’t yours, but you keep taking it anyway.

He’d never admit it aloud.

But sparring now? It was easy.

Not because of power.

Because of familiarity.

His body remembered how to fight.

And that scared him more than anything.

Because he didn’t know how far that memory would go.

And what would happen when it finally caught up.

—

Nathan slumped onto the couch with a satisfied grunt and immediately reached for whatever passed as a protein bar in the half-stocked cabinet. It looked vaguely edible. That was enough.

Merlin lingered by the window.

The sky had gone pale and blue.

Normal.

He hated how normal it was.

"Yo," Nathan called from the couch. "You ever gonna sit down?"

"In a minute."

Merlin’s hand was in his pocket, fingers grazing the smooth rectangle of the old academy token. Not his. Rathan’s. It shouldn’t be real.

But it was.

[Body Adaptation Progress: 48%]

He closed his eyes.

The system didn’t say anything else. No dialogue box. No notes. Just progress.

"I’m gonna crash for an hour," Nathan said. "Wake me if the world ends."

"Sure."

The couch squeaked as he shifted.

Merlin stayed at the window.

The city looked calm. Too calm. People walked below. Students. Workers. A stray cat darted between a railing and a planter box.

Everything continued.

Like nothing had changed.

But it had.

And the next event?

It was already on its way.

He could feel it.

And for the first time since coming back... he wasn’t afraid of it.

He just didn’t know who’d still be standing after it hit.