Resonant Rewrite

Waking up in a hospital bed was quickly becoming an unwanted habit. My eyelids felt heavy, my body like lead as I adjusted to the too-bright room. The familiar sterile scent of disinfectant filled my nose, and the rhythmic beep of machines echoed softly in the background. Blinking against the harsh light, I slowly brought my surroundings into focus.

"You're awake," Evelyn said, her voice rough with sleep.

"And you look like you haven't slept in days," Rin teased lightly.

Evelyn's lips twitched, but her eyes were still filled with exhaustion and relief. "Don't scare me like that again," she said firmly, though her tone was warm.

"I'll try my best," Rin promised with a faint smile. "How long was I sleeping?"

"Too long," she replied, her tone slipping into scolding territory. "You've been unconscious for over a week, Aria. Do you have any idea how worried everyone was?"

I barely had time to reply before the weariness pulled me back under, and I mumbled something unintelligible before succumbing to the darkness again.

When I woke the next morning, the sunlight streaming through the curtains felt harsher than usual. This time, Evelyn was sitting upright, watching me. She looked less tense, but there was still a shadow of something in her expression that made me uneasy.

"How long was I really out?" I asked, determined to get a straight answer.

"Eight days," she admitted, her voice soft but direct. "You've been in and out of consciousness a few times, since yesterday."

Eight days. The words hung in the air between us. That was enough time for an entire world to shift while I was left behind. "What the hell happened to me?"

"You overexerted yourself," she said simply, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her composed demeanor.

A knock at the door interrupted the moment, and soon, before I could press further, the door creaked open, and in came a wave of visitors. One by one, the rest of my team filed into the room. Mira, with her usual bright smile; Kael, who leaned awkwardly by the door; Garret, ever composed but visibly relieved; and Finn, whose youthful enthusiasm was dialed down but still present in his concerned gaze. They took turns approaching my bedside, each expressing their relief that I was awake.

"Don't you ever scare us like that again, Aria!" Mira chided, tears brimming in her eyes. "We thought we'd lost you!"

"You held out like a champ," Kael said gruffly, his hand briefly squeezing my shoulder. "Wouldn't expect anything less."

Garret merely nodded, but his solemn tone carried weight. "You're stronger than you look, kid."

Finn, always the easiest to read, bounced nervously from foot to foot. "You're, like, really okay, right? Not going to, you know, collapse again?"

I chuckled softly, though it strained my ribs. "Not planning on it."

It was heartwarming, seeing them all gathered here, but I couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that they were keeping something from me. Their smiles, though genuine, were tinged with restraint. Like they were walking on eggshells, careful not to upset me. I caught Evelyn's sharp gaze flicking to each of them, a silent warning. She had definitely instructed them to keep quiet about something.

What are you hiding from me, Evelyn?

As they settled into a more relaxed rhythm of chatter, the door opened again, this time revealing our guild master, Vera Lennox. She was an imposing woman, tall and broad-shouldered, with an aura of authority that could silence a room. But today, her expression was soft, almost maternal.

"Good to see you awake, Aria," Vera said, her voice carrying the weight of both relief and reprimand. "You gave us quite a scare."

"Sorry for the trouble," I said sheepishly.

She waved a hand dismissively. "Your team has already debriefed me. You did well, but you need to remember that even the strongest among us have limits. Pushing past them recklessly will only put everyone in danger."

Her words stung, but I nodded, knowing she was right. Still, there was something else in her eyes—a flicker of unease that mirrored Evelyn's. She didn't linger long, leaving with a firm reminder to focus on my recovery.

Her voice measured, Vera said, 'Rest is your priority. We'll discuss the rest of the details when you're ready.'

It didn't escape my notice that they were deliberately avoiding any mention of what happened after the dungeon. The tension in the air was palpable, and I had a sneaking suspicion that Evelyn had something to do with that. She was watching the others closely, her protective demeanor firmly in place. It was clear she didn't want me overwhelmed—or interrogated. But there was something else, too. She was avoiding my gaze, her worry etched so plainly on her face that it almost hurt to look at her.

The strangest visit came the next day. I was sitting up in bed, munching on the bland hospital food, when there was a knock on the door. Evelyn, who had been reviewing her notes in the corner, stood and opened it. In walked a group of unfamiliar faces—another guild team, the Silver Fox Guild. They were the team originally assigned to handle the dungeon we'd barely survived. Their vice-captain led the group, offering formal apologies on behalf of their guild.

"We came to offer our apologies," the vice-captain said, bowing deeply. "Our captain was away on a mission," the vice-captain explained, his voice laced with regret. "And our remaining team wasn't qualified for a Yellow Gate. We deeply regret that our absence put your team in such danger."

I nodded politely, though their apologies didn't stir much in me. This was a courtesy visit, a gesture of goodwill. I wonder if they apologized to my teammates as well, but it didn't matter. What caught my attention, however, was the absence of one of their members. A shadowy figure lingered outside the doorway, watching but never stepping inside.

After some small talk and apologies. They exchanged glances before nodding. As they filed out, I noticed something odd: one member lingered just outside the doorway, never stepping into the room. I catch a glimpse—a figure cloaked in shadows; their face obscured—but something about their presence sends a shiver down my spine.

"Who was that?" I asked Evelyn after they left.

She shrugged, her voice dismissive. "Probably just their lookout. Not important."

I let it go, though the image of that shadowed figure lingered in my mind. Something about their stillness felt off, like they were watching more than guarding.

Days passed, and I grew stronger, though my curiosity about what had happened after the dungeon only deepened. Everyone around me acted normal—too normal, like they were trying to fill the air with noise to distract me. Even Evelyn, who had been my constant companion, avoided my questions, deflecting with reassurances or changing the subject.

But she couldn't hide her worry. Her care was genuine—she brought me tea, adjusted my pillows, and even read to me to sleep—but her eyes gave her away. There was a weight in them, and she refused to meet my gaze for long. It gnawed at me, the unspoken tension between us.

Despite the unease, I found myself adapting to this world more easily than I'd expected. The people here—my team, Vera, even the strangers from other guilds—were starting to feel familiar. Natural, even. It scared me how quickly I was forming connections, how easily I was slipping into this life. A part of me wanted to resist, to keep a distance, but another part craved the warmth of belonging.

Still, I couldn't forget the truth. This wasn't my world. I had a mission to complete, a mystery to unravel. I had to find a way back, no matter how comfortable this place became.

That night, the room was quiet, save for the steady hum of the medical equipment. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, my mind swirling with unanswered questions. Then, with a sigh, I closed my eyes and whispered, "System, we need to talk."

The System, ever punctual, responded with its usual impersonal tone. "User inquiry detected. State your question or request."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't you think we need a little heart-to-heart? I mean, I've been thrown into this world, almost died—again—and now I'm back in this hospital bed. What's the deal?"

"Inquiry unclear. Trajectory aligns with User objectives."

Nice of you to check in, I thought dryly. Care to explain why I ended up here again?

"You overexerted your Beast Resonance abilities, resulting in physical and mental strain. Recovery was necessary."

I groaned. "You're really not big on empathy, are you?"

"Empathy is not within System parameters. Current status: recovery. User performance in recent dungeon exceeds projections."

"Well, that's nice to hear," I muttered, my words dripping with sarcasm. "But let's get to the point. What happens next? What's the plan for getting me out of here and back to my own life?"

The System paused before responding, as if calculating its answer. "Next objective will be provided upon full recovery. User progress remains a critical factor in trajectory alignment."

I frowned, unsatisfied. "And what about the anomalies? The weird blending of my classes? The merging of Beast Tamer and Guide? You can't just gloss over that."

"Class integration is functioning within acceptable parameters. User adaptation to integrated classes remains a key component of survival in the current environment."

I sighed in frustration. "So, in other words, figure it out myself?"

I waited a moment before pushing forward. "Great. Thanks for the pep talk."

After a while, I called again. "System?"

The response came instantly, its cold, impersonal voice resonating in my mind.

"Welcome back, User: Aria Felstone. Please provide your inquiry."

I exhaled slowly. "No kidding. And what about the dungeon? What was that anomaly we dealt with?"

"Details of the anomaly are restricted. Access requires completion of Mission Tier: Red."

I groaned inwardly. Of course. And let me guess, you've got another quest lined up for me?

"Correct. Primary Mission updated: Investigate the Gate Disturbances and uncover their origin. Secondary objectives remain active."

Great, I muttered. Anything else I should know?

The System's voice shifted slightly, a hint of something more serious in its tone. "You are progressing adequately. However, be advised: your actions are registering unusual levels of significance. Caution is advised—unforeseen consequences may arise."

The words sent a chill down my spine. Attract attention? From who?

But the System didn't answer. Its presence faded, leaving me alone in the quiet room. I sighed, rubbing my temples. This world was full of secrets, and it seemed I was always two steps behind.

I glanced at Evelyn, her sleeping form bathed in the moonlight. Whatever she was hiding, I would find out. Not because I didn't trust her—on the contrary, I trusted her more than anyone here—but because I needed to understand the bigger picture. If I was going to survive in this world, I couldn't afford to stay in the dark.

Turning onto my side, I closed my eyes, resolving to face whatever challenges lay ahead.