Extra To Protagonist

She pulled the blanket tighter around herself. "You left. We thought you were gone for good. Then you come back, and you don't talk to anyone. You disappear again. And when you do talk, it's like you're not all the way here."

"I'm not—" He paused. "I'm here."

"You sure?"

Merlin's gaze dropped to the floor between them. The old hardwood creaked just slightly under his heel.

'I didn't ask for any of this.'

A soft ping echoed in the back of his mind.

[System Notification: Physical Adaptation 27% — Skill Lock in place. Estimated time to next Unlock: Unknown.]

He blinked it away.

"What's going on with you?" she asked. Her tone didn't rise. Didn't snap. It was just quiet. Honest.

He swallowed. "It's hard to explain."

"Try me."

He looked up. Her expression wasn't soft. It wasn't angry either. Just… focused. Present.

He ran a hand through his hair.

"There are things I saw," he said. "Things I… can't forget."

"Labyrinth stuff?"

"Yeah." His jaw tightened. "And after."

Elara didn't push. Didn't scoot closer either. She just stayed where she was, watching him like she was trying to gauge which version of him had come back.

"I'm not the same," he said. "But I'm not broken."

She tilted her head. "You sure about that second part?"

He gave her a look.

She shrugged. "Just asking."

A long silence hung in the hallway. Somewhere behind them, a wall clock ticked too loud.

Finally, Merlin stood. "I should sleep."

She nodded but didn't get up. "Okay."

He turned to his door.

Paused.

Then looked back.

"I'm glad you're here," he said. "Waiting."

Elara shrugged again, but this time her eyes didn't look away. "Someone has to."

He stepped inside his room and closed the door gently behind him.

And for the first time in days, he let out a breath that didn't feel like a lie.

—

The training field behind the complex wasn't fancy. Just a flat stretch of scorched dirt and grass patches, surrounded by what used to be fencing. Some of the posts still stood. Most didn't.

Merlin kicked a rock off the field and cracked his knuckles. "You ready?"

Nathan stood a few feet away, stretching his arms overhead. "For what? You dragged me out here without a word."

"Exactly," Merlin said. "That's how you know it's serious."

Nathan groaned. "I should've faked sleep."

Merlin tossed him a wooden blade. "But you didn't."

Nathan caught it one-handed. "Why wood?"

"You're not cutting anything today. You're just trying not to get wrecked."

Nathan made a face. "That sounds worse."

Merlin turned, facing him fully. The sun hadn't risen high yet, which meant the ground hadn't started baking, and the breeze still carried a bite. Better time than most.

"I need to test a few things," Merlin said.

"On me?"

"You volunteered."

"I really didn't."

Merlin rolled his shoulders, sliding into stance. "You ready or not?"

Nathan gave a shrug, stepping forward, raising the sword casually. "Sure. Hit me with whatever you've got."

Merlin didn't say anything. He stepped in, blade low, movement fast and quiet.

Nathan blocked, but just barely. The impact knocked him back half a step.

"What the hell—" he muttered. "You weren't this fast before."

Merlin adjusted slightly. No words. No taunt. He just came again. Different angle. Faster.

Nathan gritted his teeth and blocked. This time he stumbled. "Okay, okay, what are you eating lately?"

'System's unlocking combat reflexes slowly. Strength's up. Speed too. Not by a lot. Just enough to make it feel unfair.'

[System Notification: Rathan's Martial Insight (Tier 1) – Synchronized: 19%]

He felt the shift in his own body like a second pulse running underneath his first. A rhythm that didn't come from instinct, but memory.

He pressed forward, feinted left, then ducked right.

Nathan twisted, tried to track him, but he was late.

Merlin's wooden blade tapped his side. Not hard. Just enough to prove the point.

Nathan groaned and straightened. "Okay. What the actual shit. You're not pulling moves you learned in school."

Merlin stepped back. "Didn't say I was."

Nathan wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve. "What the hell happened to you in the Labyrinth?"

Merlin hesitated. Just a second.

"I trained," he said.

Nathan gave him a flat look. "In hell?"

Merlin shrugged.

'I'm not lying.'

He circled again. Nathan raised his blade, but the frustration was showing now. His stance was tense, reactive.

Merlin could see the lines forming in real time—his footing, his shoulder roll, the twitch of his jaw right before he moved.

It felt… wrong.

Not Nathan's form. The ease. The understanding.

Like he'd fought Nathan a thousand times already and this was just going through the motions.

He blinked hard. Pushed the thought down.

'It's not me. It's Rathan. System's blurring the line too fast.'

"Come again," he said, loosening his grip. "This time, don't hold back."

Nathan huffed. "Oh yeah. Because clearly I've been winning here."

But he came anyway.

The clash was sharper. Stronger. Nathan's blade swung with real weight this time, and Merlin let the pressure hit. He absorbed it, countered once, twice.

Nathan pushed him back a few steps.

Then, he dropped low, swept a leg out.

Merlin jumped it.

'Nice.'

But Nathan didn't stop. He came up with a thrust, forced Merlin to deflect.

Then grinned. "Getting tired?"

Merlin breathed out slow. "Barely warming up."

Nathan laughed, short and sharp. "Liar."

They traded a few more hits before Merlin dropped the act and disarmed him cleanly.

Nathan stood there, breathing hard, looking at his empty hands. "What the hell are you, man?"

Merlin lowered his blade.

'Good question.'

"Still me," he said. "Just… sharper."

Nathan looked him over, quiet for a second.

"You're not slipping, right?" he asked, voice lower. "You're not doing that thing people do when they lose themselves in power?"

Merlin met his eyes. "I'm not."

Nathan nodded, slowly. "Okay."

Merlin turned to the horizon, jaw tight.

[System Notification: Combat Synchronization increased. Rathan's Physical Flow: Tier 1 – Synchronized 33%]

He exhaled.

'It's gonna get harder to hide this.'

But for now?

He just handed Nathan back his sword.

—

Nathan came at him again. Same form. Same grip. Just a little more desperate now.

Merlin watched the blade arc, eyes calm, arms loose at his sides. He didn't block.

He stepped in.

Nathan's strike went wide. Merlin was already inside the guard. Elbow to ribs, soft, not enough to hurt, just to remind.

Nathan stumbled back, coughing.

"Okay," he wheezed. "What the hell was that?"

Merlin tilted his head. "You left your side open again."

"I didn't. I mean—I did, but you didn't even look at it. You just knew."

Merlin gave a small shrug. "Lucky guess."

Nathan squinted at him like he was trying to do math. "Dude. I've seen you fight. Before the Labyrinth. You weren't—" He waved at him vaguely. "This."

Merlin didn't answer.

He was already spinning the practice blade in his hand, idle. Just to keep the tension out of his fingers. His body still wanted to move, still buzzed with the undercurrent of a fight it hadn't been allowed to finish.

'Rathan's instincts don't switch off. Even when I tell them to. System said "unlocking," but this feels like full access.'

[Synchronization: Rathan's Battle Flow – 45%]

[Warning: Host body nearing limit. Physical strain accruing.]

'No shit.'

Nathan came in again, this time more reckless. Merlin caught the blade with his forearm, ducked low, and pivoted behind him before Nathan even knew what happened.

"Come on," Nathan muttered, panting. "Don't hold back. I can take a few bruises."

"You sure?" Merlin asked quietly.

Nathan turned to answer, and Merlin moved.

Fast.

Faster than he should've. Three steps, one feint, blade to Nathan's throat.

Not pressing. Just there.

Nathan froze.

"…okay," he said after a long second. "That's new."

Merlin dropped the blade.

"I'm done."

Nathan lowered his arms, rubbing his neck. "What the hell, man."

"I told you."

"No, you didn't. You said you trained. You didn't say you trained with ghosts or some shit."

Merlin didn't laugh. He just sat down on the edge of the field, elbows resting on his knees.

Nathan stayed standing. Still catching his breath.

"You're not gonna tell me, are you?" he asked finally.

Merlin didn't look at him.

'What would I say? "Hey, I inherited the muscle memory of a genocidal war god locked in my system. Also, I died for a bit. Also, I think the gods are watching."'

"No," he said out loud.

Nathan grunted. "Cool. Love the transparency."

He flopped down in the grass next to Merlin. Their shoulders didn't touch, but the weight of the spar hung there between them like another person.

"Are you okay, though?" Nathan asked after a while.

Merlin blinked. "What?"

"Are you okay?" Nathan repeated. "Like, in the head. I know what it looks like when someone's pretending to be fine."

Merlin's throat tightened. Just a little.

'It's too early in the day for this.'

"I'm not broken," he said.

"That's not what I asked."

Merlin looked at the sky.

"It's not that simple."

Nathan exhaled through his nose. "It never is."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes.

Then Merlin stood.

He needed to move. Think. Breathe.

[New Quest: Control the Flow]

[Objective: Reach 60% Synchronization without exceeding physical strain threshold.]

'Perfect.'

He turned slightly. "We're doing this again tomorrow."

Nathan raised a brow. "You trying to train me or humiliate me?"

Merlin cracked a dry smile. "Both."

Nathan stood. Groaned. "I hate you."

Merlin didn't answer.

He was already walking back toward the complex, grip still flexing like it couldn't quite forget the feeling of holding a blade.

And somewhere behind his eyes, Rathan's muscle memory whispered:

That wasn't a fight. That was a warm-up.