Brotherly Bond (Part One)

"Wakey, wakey, sunshine!" A voice jolted Matthew awake, dragging him out of the loop.

Time worked differently there. Inside, it had felt like days—maybe even weeks—of relentless learning and training. But in reality, only five hours had passed.

Matthew sat up with a small cough, his body aching and more exhausted than before he had fallen asleep.

[Wake up, you fat shitty fuck.]

The message blinked in his vision. Normally, it was the author who sent him these messages, but now Matthew knew exactly who had written this one—Elliott.

"Fuck off," Matthew muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples.

As Matthew stretched his sore limbs, the memories from the loop still lingered in his mind—Elliott's fighting techniques, his relationships, every little detail the author had forced into his brain. It felt overwhelming, like he had lived two lives at once.

Ace was already heading toward the house, glancing back at him. "You sure you're okay? You've been acting weird lately."

Matthew forced a smirk, trying his best to channel Elliott's usual cocky demeanor. "Weird? Me? Nah, just got a lot on my mind."

Ace snorted. "Yeah, well, hurry up. Mom made breakfast, and if we're late, Dad's gonna eat everything."

At the mention of food, Matthew's stomach growled, reminding him that, even if he had spent days in the loop, his real body had barely gone five hours without eating. Shaking off the exhaustion, he followed Ace toward the house, trying to act as normal as possible.

…

"You slept outside, didn't you?" Ellen—Ace's mother asked, as she was making a stew. 

"Yes, ma'am, I did." Matthew said standing straight, like a soldier. Which resulted in him getting hit in the head with the stick Ellen used to mix up the stew.

"Where is Eric?" Matthew asked. "How come he isn't first in line to eat?"

"Eric? Since when are you calling daddy Eric?" Rafaela asked, from underneath the table.

Matthew froze for a second, realizing his slip-up. Elliott wouldn't call Eric by his name—he would say Father or Master, depending on the situation.

Thinking quickly, he forced a smirk and ruffled Rafaela's hair, trying to play it off. "Since I figured it'd annoy him," he said with a chuckle. "Where is he, anyway?"

Ellen gave him a suspicious glance but didn't press the issue. "He left early this morning. Something about handling business with the Earl," she said, returning to the stew. "Now, sit down before the food gets cold."

Ace clapped Matthew on the back, guiding him to the table. "You're acting weird," he muttered under his breath. "You sure you're okay?"

Matthew forced a grin. "Just tired," he lied, hoping Ace would drop it.

[Are you fucking kidding me? You fucking worthless fat fuck]

Elliott seemed quite annoyed by Matthew's performance, especially since he had trained him.

[Pathetic.]

The system message popped up in Matthew's vision, unmistakably from Elliott. He gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

What the hell does he expect? I've only had five hours to learn how to be him.

Still, he knew Elliott had a point. His performance was sloppy—calling Eric by his name, standing like a soldier, acting uncertain. If he didn't tighten up, someone was bound to notice.

Matthew exhaled and straightened his posture, slipping back into the cocky confidence Elliott had drilled into him during their time in the limbo. He needed to be sharper. More natural.

"Oi, Ace," he drawled, leaning back in his chair with a lazy smirk. "You worried about me? I didn't know you cared so much."

Ace scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I don't. But if you suddenly start acting like a weirdo, it's my problem too."

[Better.]

Matthew ignored the message. He had more important things to focus on—like surviving the day without blowing his cover.

…

Matthew groaned, letting his head fall back against the chair. "Come on, man. Can't I get a break?"

Ace crossed his arms, unimpressed. "A break? Elliott, you got your ass handed to you. If Erthan had been serious, you'd be six feet under by now."

Matthew sighed, rubbing his face. Right. Elliott was supposed to be a damn good fighter. He could already hear Elliott's voice in his head, mocking him.

[Yeah, genius. That's why you're training today. Try not to embarrass me again.]

"Fine," Matthew finally said, sitting up straight. "But I get to eat first."

…

An hour later, both Matthew and Ace stood behind the house, shirtless in the snow. The cold bit at Matthew's skin, but Ace seemed completely unfazed.

Matthew muttered to himself, "Your body is so resistant…"

[Of course it is. I used to sleep in the snow.] Elliott's voice echoed in his head, sounding almost smug.

Matthew exhaled, watching as his breath turned to mist in the freezing air. "Yeah, well, I'm not used to this," he muttered, rubbing his arms for warmth.

Ace stretched his arms above his head, completely unbothered. "You wanted to train, didn't you?" he teased. "Or are you gonna start whining already?"

Matthew scoffed. "Like hell I'm whining."

[Then stop acting like a little bitch and get moving.] Elliott's voice rang in his head again.

[Side Quest: Brotherly Bond]

[Objective: Win Against Ace]

[Reward: Stats Window]

[Penalty: None]

Matthew clenched his jaw. "Fine. Let's do this."

Ace grinned. "That's more like it."

Without warning, he lunged. Matthew barely had time to react before Ace's fist came flying toward his face. Instinct took over, and he dodged, but just barely.

[Too slow.]

"Shut up," Matthew muttered, but there was no time to dwell on Elliott's commentary—Ace was already coming at him again. 

Ace came in fast with a Spartan kick, but Matthew sidestepped just as Elliott had drilled into him countless times. Without wasting a second, Matthew countered with a punch to Ace's stomach.

Ace let out a sharp breath as Matthew's fist connected with his stomach, but he didn't stumble. Instead, he smirked.

"Not bad," Ace admitted, his stance shifting slightly. "But you're still too slow."

Before Matthew could react, Ace grabbed his wrist and twisted, using Matthew's own momentum against him. In the blink of an eye, Matthew was on his back, the cold snow seeping through his skin.

[Idiot. I told you—never leave yourself open after a punch.]

"Shut up," Matthew muttered under his breath as he rolled to the side and sprang to his feet.

Ace raised an eyebrow. "You talking to yourself again?"

Matthew forced a grin. "Just cursing myself for underestimating you."

Ace laughed. "Good. Keep that energy. Now, round two?"

Matthew cracked his knuckles. "Bring it."