Healing System

Claire didn't look at him right away. Her fingers drummed against the stone railing, quiet taps against the night.

"I was part of a recon unit," she began. "It was a really small team, real stupid missions. You know the type—'check out this anomaly, report back, don't engage.' That kind of thing."

Michael didn't say anything. He just listened.

"We got sent to investigate this weird rift," she continued. "Nobody could explain it. Our sensors went haywire when we got close. They told us to pull back, but we were already too far in."

She let out a breath, more a tired exhale than a sigh.

"I walked too close. Thought I could mark the edge for data. Next thing I know, I'm falling—except not really. It was more like being yanked, like something reached out and dragged me in."

Michael glanced over. She wasn't shaking, but her hand had stopped tapping.

"When I woke up, I was here," Claire said. "Middle of nowhere. Took me a week to find people, another month to stop thinking I was losing my mind. Then I found work, and eventually became a guard."

"And the rest is history," Michael said.

Claire gave a short laugh. "Yeah. Something like that."

She looked up at him. "Your turn."

"Hmm... I guess my story is a bit more complicated than yours," Michael chuckled. "I died, then died again. Now? I simply went forward and did what I should've done the first couple of times. Or rather, the first couple million times."

"You died a million times?" Claire asked, shocked. "Are you okay?"

"I don't feel my past deaths except the last two," Michael replied plainly. "Honestly, they barely affect me. If anything, they served more as learning material than anything else."

He paused before continuing. "Now, I'm a bit stronger than I used to be. Definitely not as strong as I was at my peak, but not too far off. Honestly, if I did one thing in particular, then my strength would skyrocket, but I can't do it—not yet."

"I see..." Claire leaned back with a sigh. "So in short, you experienced something you didn't like, so you came back to the past. Then you became stronger and are now trying to change some sort of predetermined outcome?"

"I guess that's the gist of it, yeah," Michael replied. "It's not as special as you make it out to be, though. I'm just lucky, and unlucky at the same time. I never asked to be given this power; however, it was practically forced on me."

After all, if not for what happened all those years ago, he would've died. Yet someone just had to swoop in and save him.

The system, or maybe not. He still didn't understand the origin of who or what had saved him.

Either way, it had lasting consequences up to this point.

"But..." Michael muttered, meeting her eyes. "I can't say I'm disappointed. Maybe in the back of my mind, this was always a fever dream. Grow powerful, defeat powerful entities, and in the end, have women who love you. I guess that's me in a nutshell."

Claire tilted her head. "So how many women are you courting?"

Michael flinched but decided to be honest. "I think it's four..." He adjusted his gaze on her and flashed a sly smirk. "Or maybe five... who knows?"

There was Astraea, Chloe, Celestara, and of course, Lila.

Now? There was also Claire he was quite interested in.

Obviously, she wasn't as strong as him, which made them have a little bit of a rift between them. However, in the end, it was the same with all the girls he knew.

Lila was the most powerful, but she was nowhere near his current strength.

Astraea was alright, and Chloe was weak.

As for Celeste? She was down the middle. A prodigy, but also someone who hasn't bloomed to her full potential yet.

Michael needed to somehow push that potential out of them and make them the strongest versions of themselves.

But given his own powerlessness, it might prove to be a bit difficult.

Claire raised an eyebrow. "You're really keeping count?"

Michael shrugged. "Only when someone asks."

She stared at him for a second longer, then scoffed and turned back toward the railing. "You're unbelievable."

"Not denying that."

The wind brushed against them again, a little colder this time. The kind that signaled the night was getting deeper.

Claire's voice came a few seconds later, quiet but clear. "Do you actually care about them? Or is this just something you're doing because you can?"

Michael leaned on the railing beside her. "I care."

He didn't elaborate, but the way he said it—flat, no hesitation—was enough.

He never played around with the girls. Even Lila, who initially was someone he'd manipulate, had become someone he had come to care for.

Claire nodded slowly. "Then you've got your work cut out for you. Making all of them stronger, keeping them close, fighting whatever war you've got going on in the background…"

She trailed off.

Michael didn't respond right away. He watched the faint ripples in the canal below. Thought about the question he hadn't asked himself in a while.

Why?

Why keep going? Why keep dragging others along?

But he already knew the answer. Same reason as always.

Because if he didn't, no one else would.

"Power means responsibility, or whatever," he muttered. "I'm not good at sitting around and watching people get left behind."

Claire gave him a side glance. "So you're doing all this because you feel responsible for them?"

"Not just that," Michael replied. "They're not tools. They're people I care about. They matter. If I can help them survive the shit that's coming… I will."

Claire leaned on the railing again. "Even if it kills you?"

Michael chuckled dryly. "Wouldn't be the first time."

A few more seconds passed.

Then Claire sighed. "Guess I picked one hell of a guy to hang out with."

"You still can leave, you know," Michael said. "No strings."

"Yeah, but then who's going to stop you from doing something stupid?"

Michael gave her a half-smile. "You volunteering?"

Claire held his gaze. "Maybe."

They didn't say anything after that.

The street behind them was dead silent now. No voices, no music, no footsteps.

Michael looked up. The stars were clearer than before. No clouds in sight.

"We should head back," Claire said softly.

"Yeah," he replied.

They turned from the railing and walked side by side once more, the night around them still and quiet.

Neither of them spoke as they left the bridge behind. The stone streets were cold underfoot, a few puddles reflecting the amber light of lanterns. The crowd had thinned, and only the occasional distant shuffle, or a curtain flicking in a window remained.

Basically A city resting after a long day.

Michael kept his hands in his pockets, scarf still fluttering slightly with each breeze. Claire walked with her arms crossed, her steps relaxed, but her expression unreadable.

After a while, Michael glanced sideways. "Still thinking about the others?"

"Not really," Claire said. "Just thinking about what you said. That you're not at your peak."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "I've seen what you can do, and you're telling me you're not even at full strength. That's… kind of terrifying."

Michael didn't respond at first. Then: "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's not," she admitted. "But it makes everything feel temporary. Like eventually, you'll reach some point way above the rest of us, and we'll just be left watching from below."

Michael stopped walking for a moment.

Claire noticed and turned back to face him. "What?"

He looked her in the eye. "Then don't watch from below."

She blinked. "Easy for you to say."

"I'm serious," he said. "You think the others were strong from the start? They weren't. They had drive, and I gave them a direction. That's it. No one starts at the top."

Claire gave him a look. "You sure about that? Because the way you talk, it sounds like you skipped a few steps."

"I had help," Michael said. "I still do. And if you're willing, I'll help you too. Not just to catch up—surpass."

Claire raised an eyebrow. "That your idea of a pick-up line?"

"No," he said. "That's my idea of a promise."

She held his gaze for a second, then exhaled and looked away. "Tch. Don't go making promises you don't intend to keep."

"I don't."

They started walking again. The tension that had settled for a moment now gave way to something quieter. More grounded.

"So," Claire said, her tone shifting slightly, "what's this one thing you mentioned earlier? The one you said you can't do yet."

Michael hesitated.

"Is it dangerous?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied. "But not to me. It's the reason I haven't done it yet."

Claire didn't press further. She just nodded, accepting the answer for what it was.

They made their way through a narrow side road, passing an old bakery closed for the night. A cat darted across their path, vanishing into an alley.

Then Claire asked, "Do you think it's worth it? Changing the past, I mean. Even if you succeed."

Michael didn't answer right away. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.

"I don't know," he said eventually. "But I'm already walking the road. If I stop now, then everything I've done, everything I've sacrificed… it'll all mean nothing."

Claire halted, turning to him with a determined look.

"How about I join you?"