Chapter 4: In the hospital: First meeting with Starla

Ben's eyes opened slowly, the world a blur of pain and haze. The ground beneath him was no longer the scorched earth of the forest but soft, yielding—a bed.

He tried to sit up. Bad idea. Every fiber of his body screamed in protest, burning as if the black flames of Chaos still lingered in his veins. Even the thin sheet draped over him felt like a lead blanket.

"Urgh…" Ben groaned, the sound raw and broken. He turned slightly to his side, but his nerves flared in revolt, sharp jolts lancing through every limb. He clenched his teeth, forcing shallow breaths as he fought to stay conscious.

Above him, the ceiling blinked faintly—smooth and sterile white, lit with dim pulse-lights that throbbed like distant stars. The air reeked of antiseptic and metal, cold and biting against his lungs.

Where... am I? His thoughts churned, murky and jumbled. This wasn't the forest. This wasn't the tiger's hellish domain.

A soft whirrr broke the silence beside him.

His gaze found a machine—sleek, black, humming low like a predator at rest. Thin wires snaked from it, one ending in a needle buried in his arm. A warm, artificial tingling spread from the point of entry—soothing, yet invasive. As if the machine wasn't just healing him... it was scanning him.

I'm in a hospital, Ben realized, blinking slowly. Looks like someone found me after all.

His body was too exhausted to process more. His mind replayed fragments of the White Sea—blood, monsters, fire—before fizzling out in fatigue. He barely noticed when the door slid open with a soft swish.

Footsteps. Gentle. Controlled.

Someone approached the bed and sat beside him.

"How are you feeling?"

The voice was feminine, soft, almost musical in his ear.

Ben winced as he turned his head. Agony flared again. His body protested—but his eyes met hers, and suddenly, the pain… dulled.

Shit.

Who is this angel?

She was beautiful—no, extraordinarily beautiful. Her black eyes held a quiet confidence. Her caramel-brown hair shimmered under the overhead light, tied neatly into a braid. She wore a sharp white blazer with black trim, a short pleated skirt, and a black blouse that hugged her figure. A golden lion insignia rested over her chest.

Ben blinked.

"Who... are you?" he croaked. "And where am I?"

Not shyness. Shock. Who the hell looked like that this early in the morning?

The girl smiled, soft and sincere. "My name is Starla," she said. "And you're in a hospital room, as you can probably tell."

Even her voice was dangerous—sweet, charming, dangerously feminine. It stirred something in Ben.

Then her expression shifted. She leaned in, her black eyes narrowing with a mix of worry and scolding.

"What made you think going into the White Sea right after awakening was a good idea?"

Her tone was serious now—laced with gentle fury.

Control, Ben.

Control.

Ben, who prided himself on his iron self-control, felt a strange heat rise as the girl leaned closer, her presence oddly disarming.

"I'm sorry," she said gently, brushing her fingers across her forehead. Her voice softened again. "And you are?"

Ben's gold eyes sharpened, snapping back to composure like a blade sheathed. "Ben. Noir," he replied, calm and measured.

Starla tilted her head slightly, confused. "You're not from around here, are you?"

Damn.

I can't exactly tell her I got dumped into this world by mistake.

"What do I see?" she murmured, more to herself than him.

Ben's brain scrambled. Think, think, think.

"I come from a faraway place," he said with practiced mystery. "You wouldn't know it."

"Which continent?" she shot back immediately. "I can ask my grandpa—he's traveled all over. Maybe he's heard of it."

And boom. Confidence? Shattered.

This girl's harder to fool than a customs officer with trust issues.

Time for Plan B.

"Ah!" Ben suddenly screamed, grabbing his head like a banshee was clawing through it.

Starla leapt forward, panicked. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Skill: Cool Down!" she chanted.

Golden light burst from her hands, cascading over Ben's head in a gentle wave. He wasn't expecting it to actually feel good. The warmth soaked into him, easing his mind and muscles, leaving him more relaxed than he'd been in days.

The light faded. His eyes opened, wide and blinking.

"...What the hell was that?"