Epilogue - Sweet awakaning

It takes me several seconds to open my eyes, partly because my eyelids feel so heavy and partly because of the blinding light spilling in. When I finally manage to focus, I notice that the light is actually just a faint glow coming from the hallway, barely illuminating the room. Given how difficult it is to clear my head, I must have slept for many hours… or maybe even days.

Wait a second… this isn't my room! The place smells of disinfectant, the walls are sterile and white, and there's no trace of my usual belongings. It feels more like a hospital room. Where the hell am I? I glance down and see that I'm wearing only a flimsy white gown, the kind that leaves your backside exposed, and there's a tangle of tubes connecting me to an IV bag filled with red liquid—almost certainly blood.

That's when I see them: Clare and Brianne. They're sleeping right beside me on the same wide bed, wearing nothing but their underwear. Their bare skin is touching, and their arms are wrapped around each other in an embrace that radiates both intimacy and tenderness. In the flickering light, I can make out their profiles: Brianne's perfectly firm breasts pressed against Clare's, their legs seductively intertwined. They look flawless, like Greek statues carved by the gods or two lingerie models stepping straight out of a glossy catalog. What a heavenly vision! They're so beautiful that, for a moment, I almost forget the IV, the gown, and everything else. Almost. My muscles still seem to function—one in particular feels very much alive.

Footsteps in the hallway yank me back to reality, interrupting my reverie. A woman with long raven hair, neatly pinned at the nape of her neck, steps in. She's wearing a white coat and a pair of square-framed glasses that give her a classic "sexy doctor" vibe. She's holding a stack of folders and documents, and her gaze fixes on me with a mix of curiosity and sternness.

«So, you're the famous Ren Volkom. Brianne has told me quite a bit about you,» she begins in a clinical tone, making me feel as if I'm under scrutiny. «My name is Amanda Clegg, Secret Service agent and head of the Crystalbringer research department. And for the record, I'm the one Brianne Leviantis takes orders from. In other words, I'm your boss's boss.»

A Secret Service agent? Brianne's boss? I'm stuck in the same room as someone I should probably be terrified of. My voice wavers as I attempt to sound composed.

«Nice to meet you, Ms. Clegg...» I mumble, still battling the embarrassment of being half-naked. «Could I... may I know what happened?»

Amanda adjusts her glasses, straightens the papers in her hands, and clears her throat. She looks like she's about to deliver an official statement, like a president making an important announcement.

«Your friend Clare Azuralis, after hearing no response to Brianne's calls, went to the district where you two were on patrol. Fortunately, she found both of you before anyone else could, and you were brought here immediately. Brianne's injuries weren't particularly serious—she did lose a lot of blood, but she managed to avoid any vital organs. As for you… well, you've been unconscious for two weeks.»

Two weeks?! My eyes widen. It's worse than anything I could have imagined.

Amanda goes on in a dry tone. «After the Blood Rage, your body was practically dead—no vital signs. Frankly, I wouldn't have bet a penny on your recovery. But those two girls...» she glances at Clare and Brianne, who look like sleeping angels, «...never stopped hoping you'd wake up. To keep you alive, your body needed an enormous amount of blood, and those two lunatics let doctors draw from them every single day for two weeks—far more than a human body can safely spare without risking anemia. It's a miracle they're both still alive. And as if that weren't enough, they also drove two hours every evening to be by your side. You're a very lucky guy to have two such devoted friends. They must care about you deeply.»

Brianne... Clare... They risked their lives to save me. Again. My heart overflows with gratitude and guilt at the same time: once again, my own weakness put the people I love in danger.

After a moment, Amanda leaves in silence, abandoning me to my thoughts and those two angelic visions. I gently run my fingers through Brianne's hair, brushing the tips against the long blonde strands cascading down her neck. Then I move my hand to Clare's nape, pale as a corpse.

Looking at them now, with the dim light tracing their curves and illuminating their milky skin, my stomach tightens at the thought of how much they've suffered. Because of my weakness, they went through a daily ordeal, giving all they could without ever leaving my side.

A knot forms in my throat, and my eyes grow damp. I can't even begin to imagine waking up in a world without them. Their affection, their presence, their strength… Brianne. Clare. I… I love you. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone in my life.

I clench my fists, burning with the desire to repay everything they've done for me.

I will become stronger. I'll never let anyone hurt you again. From now on, I'll be the one protecting you!

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Area 51. Underground Laboratory. 3:00 AM.

«Welcome, Mr. LeBlanche. We weren't expecting you...» Aaron Bryce, the Army's Chief of Staff, speaks with the tone of someone who'd rather be anywhere else.

Gin fixes him with an icy stare, his hands deep in the pockets of his long black coat. «Where's the lead researcher?»

Aaron gulps. «He... hasn't arrived yet. He was supposed to be here an hour ago. Mr. LeBlanche, I'm truly sorry.» He bows slightly, sweat shining on his forehead, his fear revealed by the faint tremor in his hands.

Gin shrugs, then erupts. «The secret services are cutting deals with every Crystalbringer they can find. The Black Jackets are doing crystal implants like dentists, and you? The world's most feared military can't deliver a single decent result!» His voice cuts like a whip, his fists tightening as his glare burns into Aaron. «I've been funding your research for two years, and all you've got to show for it is... nothing!»

DING.

The sound of the entrance sensor interrupts the tirade. Gin barely turns his head, while Aaron exhales as though he's narrowly escaped execution. «The lead researcher is here, Mr. LeBlanche!» he announces, a glimmer of relief brightening his face.

A middle-aged man with disheveled gray hair, a scruffy beard, and thick yellow-framed glasses hurries toward them in a long white coat.

«I apologize for being late,» the researcher says, his tone sincerely regretful.

Gin exhales slowly, as though counting to ten to regain his composure. «It seems perpetual lateness runs in the family. Isn't that right... Dr. Volkom?»

END VOLUME 1