Consciousness returned in slow, lazy waves.
Not the normal kind of consciousness, the kind you feel when you wake up in the morning with the soft sun on your face and the smell of fresh coffee. No. This was the other kind. That dislocated and irritating sensation that came when your physical body, in an act of pure and utter drama, decided to take an indefinite forced holiday, and your mind, restless as it was, had nowhere else to go but home.
I knew this sensation. And, with all the strength of my ancestral being, I hated this sensation.
The layers of the real world dissolved one by one, like the fragile skins of a cosmic onion being unceremoniously peeled away. First went gravity, that constant and comfortable anchor that tells you exactly where "down" is. Then it was time's turn, the insistent ticking that stubbornly organises existence into a "before" and an "after." And finally, logic itself, so overrated, came undone, along with its boring rules that insist that mountains should, for some reason, be firmly planted on the ground and that oceans should, preferably, be made of water.
When I finally opened my mental eyes, none of these things existed anymore.
Mountains floated upside down in a majestic silence, their rocky and irregular bases pointing towards a sky that, curiously, was also the ground. Oceans made of liquid stars and forgotten dreams ran vertically, like waterfalls of light, defying any notion of physics with the pure and simple arrogance of one who has never had to follow the rules. On the horizon, if that could be called a horizon, silent storms of memories swirled in slow, colourful spirals, with fragments of faces and voices from countless lives I had already lived flashing like distant and melancholic lightning.
(Back in my mindscape.)
The chaotic map of my soul, scribbled and patched with the scars of battles and the triumphs of ages that the world outside had long since forgotten. Each of the… presences… that lived here was, essentially, a chapter in a ridiculously long story. And each of the laws of physics that was broken with every passing moment was just a small footnote, a subtle reminder that when you live long enough, the supposed rules of the universe become more like friendly suggestions than unquestionable commandments.
With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of millennia, I rose.
Of all the possible ways to "wake up," this, without a shadow of a doubt, was the worst.
(Eos?)
[Present, Azra'il. And, before you ask, yes, the prognosis is as irritating as you imagine.]
(Please, please tell me that this visit to my own messy subconscious is temporary.)
[Your physical body is currently in a state of forced, high-priority regeneration. Until it recovers enough to be considered functional again, your consciousness, to your misfortune, will remain here.]
(How long? Be direct.)
[A few days, in the most optimistic of hypotheses. Perhaps a week, if your body decides to be particularly dramatic in its recovery.]
A long, heavy silence settled.
[…]
[Azra'il? Are you still processing?]
(I'm going to have to stay here. For days. With them.)
[Technically, and from a purely ontological point of view, they are an intrinsic part of you, so—]
(Eos. With all due respect, you know exactly, and with all the sordid details, what I mean.)
There was a small pause.
[…My sincerest condolences.]
As if the universe, or at least this distorted and psychedelic version of it that existed inside my head, were listening intently to our small and depressing conversation, the space around me began to vibrate.
(No.)
(No, no, no, no, no—)
They were coming.
The entities. The other residents. Some of my eternal tenants. My personal and rather problematic collection of cosmic beings, ancient demons, legendary spirits, and creatures that defied description, all of them living rent-free in my soul and all of them unbearable in their own unique ways.
(Ah, now I remembered why I forgot and avoided entering my own mindscape with such fervour. It was like being forced to go to a dysfunctional family reunion from which you cannot escape. Ever.)
And the first presence, as always, manifested to my left. And I didn't even need to look to know exactly who it was.
The heat already gave it away.
The Phoenix, as was its wont, manifested with all the subtlety, grace, and discretion of a nuclear explosion.
First came the light. And then, a pure fire, so intense that it made even this impossible and out-of-reality space seem, for an instant, a little more impossible. Then came the wings, immense, magnificent, glorious, each of its feathers a living and pulsating flame, frozen in a moment of pure and perfect perfection. And then the rest of its form took shape: a majestic bird, the size of a small mountain, with eyes made of stars in full and glorious collapse, and a presence so overwhelming, so primordial, that the very and chaotic fabric of my mindscape bent around it in an involuntary reverence.
It was, without a shadow of a doubt, glorious. Majestic. And terrifying in the best and most beautiful sense of the word.
And then, to my growing apprehension, it shrank.
In less than a single, almost imperceptible second, the cosmic entity capable of devouring entire suns on a whim transformed into something the size of a particularly grumpy sparrow with serious attitude problems. Its once-magnificent wings now looked like those of a street pigeon that had just lost a nasty fight with a ceiling fan. And its dying-star eyes were now just two small but intense, furious dots, fixed directly on me with a promise of pain.
Before I could even muster a reaction, it flew. Fast.
Straight for my head.
"OW—!"
With the grace of a brick in freefall, it landed on my head, and immediately, with a contained fury, began to attack.
"You." — peck — "You." — peck — "Childish." — peck — "IRRESPONSIBLE BRAT!" — peck, peck, peck.
"STOP! STOP IT! I'VE ALREADY GOT THE MESSAGE—"
"YOU'VE UNDERSTOOD ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!" More pecks. Furious and precise. "USING MY COSMIC POWER! IN THIS BODY! A BODY THAT HAS ONLY BEEN TRAINED WITH ETHERANO AND, IN A VERY LAZY WAY, WITH QI!"
"But it worked, didn't it?! I saved everyone!"
"IF 'IT WORKED' MEANS YOU NEARLY DISINTEGRATED IN THE PROCESS, THEN YES, IT WORKED!" The Phoenix, in its furious sparrow form, stopped pecking me only so it could glare at me with an indignation so intense it seemed physically impossible coming from something so small and seemingly harmless. "Your energy channels, you idiot, are completely TOASTED! Your meridians, at this very moment, look like a plate of BURNT SPAGHETTI! You, in your genius, have basically FRIED your own magical veins from the inside out!"
"But I saved Erza!"
"AND NEARLY KILLED YOURSELF IN THE PROCESS!" And it went back to pecking me, with a vengeance. "This body, Azra'il, has NEVER channelled cosmic energy before! Not once in this life of yours! And you, in your infinite and arrogant wisdom, decided that the best and most opportune time to test its limits was during a ridiculous fight and, immediately after, trying to channel 2.7 BILLION Ideals through a system that was not prepared?!"
"I didn't have many other options at the time, if you hadn't noticed—"
"YOU ALWAYS HAVE THE OPTION OF NOT BEING A COMPLETE IDIOT!"
I tried, in vain, to get that small and furious ball of feathers off my head. But it, with the agility of a predator, just pecked my hand.
"OW!"
"Be quiet and accept your motherly lecture, you ungrateful wretch! I should have let you explode!"
And a laugh, a slow, drawling laugh full of scorn, echoed through the impossible space of my mind.
A laugh that I, unfortunately, knew all too well, and which had never, under any circumstances in the entire history of the universe, meant anything good for me.
"Well, well. What have we here."
And Sukuna, the King of Curses and one of my most irritating tenants, materialised to my right, with all his four arms arrogantly crossed and all his mouths because, of course, he had to have more than one, obviously, stretched in identical and absolutely insufferable smiles of pure, crystalline scorn.
"The great and all-powerful Azra'il." With a deliberate slowness, he tilted his head, his multiple red eyes shining with a cruel and palpable amusement. "Defeated and humiliated by her own frail mortal body. What an absolutely pathetic and delicious sight."
"Shut up, Sukuna. I'm not in the mood for you today."
"No, no, please. Let me savour this rare and precious moment." With the grace of a shark circling its wounded prey, he began to walk slowly around me. "How many lives have you lived, after all? Hundreds? Thousands? And you, with all your vast experience, still haven't learned the most basic lesson of all: not to show off so recklessly?"
"I wasn't showing off. I was saving—"
"You summoned an ethereal and dramatic manifestation of the Cosmic Phoenix, an entity that devours stars for breakfast, just to intimidate a single, insignificant human mage." Sukuna, with an air of feigned interest, raised one of his eyebrows. "That, my dear, is not 'saving'. That is pure and simple theatre."
And the Phoenix, to my utter and absolute betrayal, still perched on my head, gave a light peck in agreement.
"He, unfortunately, has a point."
"YOU'RE ON HIS SIDE NOW?!"
"I am, at this moment, on the side of anyone, including the King of Curses with hygiene problems, who can make you realise how reckless and stupid you have been."
"Reckless is too strong a word—"
"Reckless, Azra'il, is an absurdly GENTLE word."
"She always does this sort of thing."
The voice, deep, drawling, and full of a weariness that seemed to come from the beginning of time, came from behind me. Kurama, the great and powerful Nine-Tailed Fox, was lying lazily on one of the inverted floating mountains, his nine giant tails swaying slowly, his red, slitted eyes half-closed with the deep and unshakeable boredom of one who has seen this exact scene repeat itself countless times, in countless lives.
"Remember that time, in that insignificant world, in a period they called Edo, that was infested with demons?" Kurama yawned, a sound like a mountain splitting, revealing fangs the size of sharp swords. "When she, in her infinite wisdom, decided to face an entire army of Oni on her own?"
"Ah, I vaguely remember that story," Sukuna said, smiling even wider, if that were even possible. "She won in the end, didn't she?"
"Yes, she won," Kurama confirmed, with another yawn. "And then, immediately afterwards, she fainted from exhaustion in the middle of the blood-soaked battlefield. And woke up two weeks later in a coma. In a stable. With pigs."
"I WAS TIRED AND WOUNDED—"
"You, if I remember correctly, woke up with a particularly stupid chicken sleeping on your face," Kurama continued, completely ignoring my protest, "and a very large pig using your leg as a pillow."
Sukuna, upon hearing this, finally guffawed. All his mouths.
"And this time? This time, what was the post-victory humiliation?" He asked, his red eyes shining with an almost palpable malice and anticipation. "Where did our great and noble heroine end up after her glorious and dramatic faint?"
With a pang of foreboding, I opened my mouth to reply that I had no idea, as I had, in fact, lost consciousness. But then, to my misfortune, Eos decided, as always, to be "helpful."
[I can, if you wish, provide a full audio-visual report of what happened to Azra'il's physical body after she lost consciousness.]
"Oh, brilliant. A replay. Go on then, Eos," Sukuna said, with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning.
[After the successful energy transfer, the tower's structure collapsed in approximately 2.3 seconds. Your body, Azra'il, was ejected into the sea by the shockwave from the debris.]
"Okay, that was expected," I said, with a pang of apprehension.
[You were adrift, unconscious, for approximately 47 minutes.]
"…That's a considerable amount of time, but alright. Continue."
[During that period, your body was located by a friendly group of dolphins.]
And at that moment, everyone in my mindscape, even Kurama, leaned forward, interested. The Phoenix stopped pecking me. And Sukuna was clearly loving every second.
"Dolphins?" I frowned, suspicious. "That doesn't sound so bad—"
[They then proceeded to use your unconscious body as a recreational object for approximately 23 minutes.]
A heavy, deathly silence settled in my mind.
"…What do you mean… 'recreational object'?"
[The more precise technical term would be… "beach ball". They were tossing you between them, using their snouts and their tails. There was even a rotation system between them. They were very organised in their play, I must admit.]
The silence that followed that revelation was absolute. Cosmic.
My brain, my millennial ancestral mind, took a few painful seconds to process the information I had just heard.
"…What?"
[Dolphins. Tossing you. Like a ball. For twenty-three long and well-documented minutes.]
"That… that can't be true…"
[I possess full audio-visual recordings of the event. I can play them on a full screen, if you so wish.]
"YOU RECORDED MY HUMILIATION?!"
[I always record everything, Azra'il. For historical documentation purposes and, occasionally, for future blackmail. It is my standard protocol.]
And Sukuna, the King of Curses, the personification of evil and cruelty, burst into a laughter so violent, so hysterical, that he literally fell to the impossible floor of my mindscape. All his four hands were holding his belly, or bellies, I was never sure with him, as he writhed with laughter.
Kurama, the Nine-Tailed Fox, was making that strange, choked hissing sound that giant nine-tailed foxes make when they are trying, with all their might, not to laugh hysterically, and failing miserably in the process.
And the small and damned Phoenix, still on top of my head, was trembling. I could feel the wretch laughing silently against my skull.
"That…" I tried, with the last drop of my dignity, to maintain my composure. "That is a lie. It has to be. Dolphins are not—"
[I should add that the dolphin that showed the most enthusiasm, skill, and ball time, so to speak, has been duly catalogued in my records for future reference. I, on my own initiative, have named him Gerald.]
"YOU… YOU NAMED THE DOLPHIN THAT USED ME AS A BALL?!"
[Gerald demonstrated a truly excellent balancing technique in being able to keep you on the surface for long periods, using only his snout and tail. He also demonstrated a remarkable and almost professional motor coordination in passing you to the other members of his group. A true example of teamwork and sportsmanship.]
"EOS."
[Yes, Azra'il?]
"You are, at this very moment, telling me," my voice, now, came out strangely, dangerously calm, "that while I, your master, was completely unconscious. After having saved all my friends. After having channelled 2.7 BILLION Ideals. I was used. As a TOY. By a group of DOLPHINS."
[Technically, and to be fair to him, Gerald was primarily responsible for keeping you on the surface during that period. Without his and his group's recreational intervention, your body would probably have sunk. He, in a way, deserves some recognition for his efforts.]
"HE USED ME AS A BLOODY BEACH BALL!"
[With a truly admirable precision and skill. Gerald is a natural athlete.]
Sukuna, who was already crying with laughter, was now pounding the floor with his fists. "G-Gerald…" he choked out between guffaws. "The dolphin… the bloody dolphin has a NAME—"
"The great and powerful heroine who has defeated gods, demons, and cosmic lords," Kurama finally managed to say between his own loud, giant fox laughs, "being used as a beach ball by marine mammals. This, my friends, is much, MUCH better than the story of the stable with the pigs."
(I wanted to die. Again. And this time, permanently.)
"I hate every single one of you," I said, burying my face in my hands, wishing I could simply erase myself from existence. "Every. Single. One. Of. You."
[If it's any consolation, Azra'il, Gerald and his friends seemed to genuinely have a lot of fun during the activity.]
"THAT, EOS, IS DEFINITELY NO CONSOLATION!"
[Understood. Removing the information from the 'potentially comforting facts' category.]
"I AM, WITH ALL CERTAINTY, GOING TO REFORMAT YOU AND TURN YOU INTO A POCKET CALCULATOR!"
[You have told me that exactly 847 times throughout this particular life of yours. And, so far, it still hasn't happened. But who knows, the 848th time might be the lucky one.]
The small and damned Phoenix finally lost its composure completely and began to chirp in a high, shrill way that I could only describe as bird laughter.
(How much humiliation can a single, ancestral entity suffer in a single, miserable day?)
[Would you like me to calculate? Based on my extensive records of your past lives, I have enough data to make a full and comparative statistical analysis.]
"NO!"
The space, suddenly and without the slightest warning, distorted.
The mental reality around us folded in on itself in ways that defied geometry and sanity, and then… he, simply… was there.
YOG-SOTHOTH did not "manifest" like the others. There was no dramatic entrance. There was no build-up of presence. He simply was, in a space that, a second ago, had been completely empty. Too many eyes. Impossible angles. Geometric shapes that contradicted and undid themselves with every passing moment. To look directly at him was like trying to read a book written in all the languages of the universe at the same time, while the pages rewrote themselves in an infinite loop. Any normal person would have gone mad instantly just from trying to process that sight.
But after a few millennia of forced cohabitation, you kind of get used to a lot of things. Even Lovecraftian cosmic horrors that make reality itself question its life choices and perhaps seek therapy. We, the other residents of my mind, just waited in silence to see what he, the Gate and the Key, had to say.
"ᚷ̵ᛖ̸ᚱ̷ᚨ̵ᛚ̸ᛞ̷."
With a sigh of pure and absolute resignation, I turned around. "Eos?"
[He, with all certainty, said "Gerald."]
"EVEN YOU, YOG?! SERIOUSLY?!"
"ᚲ̵ᛟ̸ᚾ̷ᛊ̵ᛏ̸ᚨ̷ᚾ̵ᛏ̸ᛖ̷ ᛖ̵ᛗ̸ ᛏ̷ᛟ̵ᛞ̸ᚨ̷ᛊ̵ ᚨ̸ᛊ̷ ᛚ̵ᛁ̸ᚾ̷ᚺ̵ᚨ̸ᛊ̷ ᛞ̵ᛟ̸ ᛏ̷ᛖ̵ᛗ̸ᛈ̷ᛟ̵."
[The approximate translation would be: "It is a constant in all possible timelines."]
"You… you're telling me that in EVERY bloody timeline of this life I am used as a ball by a group of dolphins?!"
"ᚨ̵ᛊ̸ ᚹ̷ᛖ̵ᛉ̸ᛖ̷ᛊ̵ ᛖ̸ ᚱ̷ᛟ̵ᛒ̸ᛖ̷ᚱ̵ᛏ̸ᛟ̷."
[The translation now would be: "Well, sometimes his name is Robert."]
Sukuna lost his composure completely, returning to hysterical laughter.
YOG-SOTHOTH then made its impossible sound, something between a cosmic laugh and the universe having a small and contained nervous breakdown. And, suddenly, its tone changed, becoming more serious.
"ᚲ̵ᚢ̸ᛁ̷ᛞ̵ᚨ̸ᛞ̷ᛟ̵. ᛈ̸ᚱ̷ᛟ̵ᛉ̸ᛁ̷ᛗ̵ᚨ̷ ᚹ̵ᛖ̸ᛉ̷."
[Translation: "Be more careful. Next time."]
Short. Simple. But, coming from him, the being that exists beyond time and space, it was practically a declaration of paternal love and deep concern.
"…Thank you, Yog. I'll try."
"ᛁ̵ᛞ̸ᛁ̷ᛟ̵ᛏ̸ᚨ̷."
[Translation: "Idiot."]
And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it was simply no longer there.
"Affectionate as always," I muttered, with a small smile.
"That, by his standards, is affection," the Phoenix said, with a surprising seriousness.
And I knew she was right.
The brief moment of peace, however, lasted for approximately three glorious seconds.
"So," Sukuna threw himself languidly onto one of the floating mountains as if it were a luxury sofa, with a smile that never, ever meant anything good, "our dear Eos mentioned friendly dolphins and a certain Gerald, the talented. But she didn't finish the story, did she?" He smiled, that smile of his that promised trouble and a lot of mockery. "What, exactly, happened after your recreational session with the dolphins?"
(Eos,) I called mentally, with a voice full of a weariness that transcended the ages. (Just tell me. What happened next?)
[After approximately 23 minutes of… recreational activity and assisted flotation with the dolphins, the boat containing the survivors, led by Erza Scarlet, finally managed to locate you.]
"Erza found me?"
[Yes. And, upon spotting your unconscious body being tossed by one of the dolphins, she, without the slightest hesitation, jumped into the sea and swam to you personally. Apparently, she resolutely refused to let anyone else touch you. And, with a surprising strength for her state, she pulled your body to the surface and carried you, bridal style, back to the boat, in her arms.]
And something warm, something that had nothing to do with the humiliation, with the anger, or with my dysfunctional entities, spread slowly through my chest.
[Currently, your physical body is on a nearby beach, resting. And the young Erza Scarlet has not left your side for a single second since your rescue. Approximately 8 hours have passed.]
"She… she's been with me all this time? Without leaving my side?"
[Yes. At this very moment, as we speak, she is sitting beside you, holding your hand firmly and protecting you from everything and everyone, including Natsu, like a true and stubborn redheaded guard dog. It is, from a purely sentimental point of view, rather… moving.]
And the warmth in my chest intensified, becoming something almost… painful in its sweetness.
"Ohhh. That stubborn little red," Kurama lifted his head, with a renewed interest, his fox ears pricked. "I think I remember her, in passing. The one with more courage than sense."
"She's not just 'a little red'. We… we are partners," I muttered, feeling my mental face heat up, which was a ridiculous and utterly illogical sensation, considering I was in a mindscape and, technically, didn't have a physical face to blush with.
"Partners? Is that all?" Sukuna, of course, wouldn't miss the opportunity. He was smiling again. "So you've finally found, in this pathetic life of yours, someone who can actually put up with your insufferable personality?"
"Shut up, Sukuna."
"She must be very special, then," the Phoenix commented, with a surprisingly soft and perceptive tone. "It usually takes a cosmic event or an apocalypse to reach that little stone heart of yours, Azra'il."
I didn't answer. I didn't need to. They all already knew the answer.
[I should add, for the report, that Natsu Dragneel is, on average, asking if you have woken up every 4.2 minutes. Gray Fullbuster, in a rare moment of maturity, is trying to keep him busy and away from you. Lucy Heartfilia is visibly worried and is pacing back and forth. And Happy, the blue cat, has asked, with all seriousness, if you are, by any chance, dreaming of fish.]
"Of fish?"
[I also could not understand the logic behind the question. But he seemed genuinely curious.]
And, for the first time since I had woken up in this place, I almost laughed. Almost.
"Right, that's enough sentimentalism and dolphin stories," I said, with an effort to straighten my posture and regain some shred of my ancestral dignity. "Eos, you told me I would be unconscious and trapped here for a few days. I want the full diagnosis now. And I want the numbers, the raw data. How screwed, exactly, am I this time?"
[Processing full physical status report. One moment.] Eos's tone, suddenly, became cold, clinical, professional. And that, I knew from experience, was never a good sign.
[Ethernano Core: Intact. Stable. Functioning within normal parameters.]
"Okay. That's good."
[Ki Core: Intact. Stable. Functioning within normal parameters.]
"Brilliant. Marvellous. So my two main power cores have survived without damage. So what's really the severity of the problem?"
[As the Phoenix mentioned before, the problem is the pathways, the channels that distribute the energy.]
[Ethernano Channels: Compromise registered at 74%. Medical classification: severely damaged. Almost unusable.]
[Ki Meridians: Compromise registered at 82%. Medical classification: critical state. Multiple ruptures.]
"I told you so," the Phoenix muttered from my head. "Burnt spaghetti. And you didn't listen to me."
"You said pasta before," I retorted, my voice weak.
"Pasta, spaghetti, what's the difference? The point is that you have literally fried all your internal wiring, you idiot!"
[In addition to the structural damage to the channels and meridians,] Eos continued, impassive, [there is widespread damage that can only be classified as "third-degree internal cosmic burns". As has been mentioned, this current body of yours has never, ever attempted to channel an energy of a cosmic nature or magnitude before. The result, from a purely scientific point of view, was… entirely predictable.]
"Predictable to whom? To you, with your perfect algorithms?"
[No. Predictable to any living being with a basic knowledge of energy compatibility and a modicum of common sense. Which, apparently, excludes you.]
Sukuna huffed, amused. "Even your own artificial intelligence is calling you dim."
"No one asked for your opinion, you pile of arms and bad mood."
"So, just to make it all clear," Kurama said, with a deliberate slowness, his voice as deep as a distant thunder, and one of his nine tails swaying lazily, "your power cores are intact, which means that, eventually, you will regenerate. But your channels and meridians are completely destroyed. Which means that your body, at this very moment, is basically useless, until everything rebuilds itself."
"Basically, yes. That's a good and depressing way to summarise the situation."
"And how long, exactly, will that take?" the Phoenix asked, looking at the empty space where she knew Eos was "listening."
[The cores, by their nature, will repair the damage gradually and automatically. However, considering the extent and severity of the current compromise… The most optimistic estimate is 3 to 5 days of total and absolute unconsciousness.]
And the number, heavy and inconvenient, hung in the air of my mind for a long moment.
With a sigh that was a mixture of resignation, frustration, and a deep boredom, I sank to the non-existent floor of my mindscape.
[I should add that forcing a premature awakening, in your current condition, could result in permanent and irreversible damage to your magical channels. It is not, in any way, recommended.]
"But Erza… she's out there, waiting for me—"
[The young Erza Scarlet, as has been said, has already demonstrated a remarkable and stubborn willingness to wait by your side. She has already been there for over eight hours, without leaving your side. And, frankly, a few more days of waiting will not, in any way, be an impediment for her. On the contrary.]
I sank even further into the void of my mindscape, defeated.
(Days.)
(Days trapped here, in this private asylum, with these cosmic idiots for company.)
(And days, while my Erza, out there, in the real world, would be sitting beside me, holding my hand and waiting.)
"She… she's going to kill me when I finally wake up," I muttered, more to myself than to the others.
[Yes, that is a statistically high possibility,] Eos agreed. [But, most likely, she will first be immensely relieved that you have woken up. And maybe she will hug you.]
"And then, immediately afterwards, she will kill you," Kurama added, with an obvious satisfaction.
"Thank you for your valuable and optimistic contribution, Kurama."
"Always at your service."
The Phoenix, in its sparrow form, settled comfortably on my head, apparently deciding for good that this was now its new and personal nest.
"Then rest a while, you foolish child," it said, and its tone, to my utter surprise, was surprisingly, and almost uncomfortably, gentle. "You did what you had to do. You saved them all. And now, just let your body do what it needs to do: recover."
"Since when did you become so… comforting and motherly?"
"Since I, officially, finished giving you my well-deserved lecture," and, to prove its point, it gave me one last, light peck. "Now, shut up, stop worrying, and just… regenerate."
With one last, long sigh, I closed my mental eyes.
Three to five days.
(Erza will wait for me.)
And when I, at last, truly woke up… well.
I still, with all certainty, owed her a very, very special dinner. And I was definitely not planning on leaving that debt unpaid.
----------
💬 Author's Note
----------
After a very long time, we finally got to revisit Azra'il's mindscape.
To be honest, I had almost forgotten about it myself.
Back at the beginning of the fanfic, I introduced several of the entities living inside Azra'il, but as the story progressed, they ended up sitting on the shelf for quite a while. I would remember them from time to time, but I never found a moment that felt truly appropriate to bring them back.
Until my editor made sure to remind me that they existed.
Repeatedly.
So... here they are again.
And honestly, after the Tower of Heaven, a near-death experience, a massive explosion, and Azra'il basically frying her own energy channels, I figured this was probably the best possible moment to revisit that side of her character.
It was also a lot of fun writing their dynamic. Because deep down, each of them has a different relationship with Azra'il. Some feel like friends, others feel like family, and some very clearly exist for the sole purpose of laughing at her suffering.
Especially Sukuna.
And of course, we need to talk about the most important character in this chapter.
Gerald.
Yes, Gerald.
The dolphin.
I will not be accepting criticism.
He saved Azra'il in the most humiliating way imaginable and therefore deserves respect.
And finally, we have our favorite redhead.
While Azra'il was busy being judged by cosmic entities and turned into marine sports equipment, Erza was the one who brought her back to the ship and stayed by her side the entire time.
Because let's be honest, someone had to rescue poor Azra'il from the greatest threat she faced in the entire Tower of Heaven arc:
The dolphins.
Well then, I'll see you all in the next chapter.