CHAPTER 174: TIME IS SHORT

The ceiling didn’t respond.

It just stared back, off-white and cracked, the paint chipping slightly near the light fixture like it had been there longer than anyone else. Merlin blinked once, then again, as his arm slid off his face.

His ribs hurt. Not broken. Just bruised in that way that made you rethink every single breath.

Nathan was still in the armchair. Still scrolling on that battered black tablet he swore wasn’t outdated.

"You look like you lost a fight to a boulder," Nathan said, finally glancing up. "Did the mysterious bastard actually let you hit him this time?"

"No," Merlin grunted, dragging himself upright, "but I managed to stay standing for half a second longer than last time."

Nathan whistled low. "Progress."

Merlin leaned forward, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. The ache settled behind his eyes. Not pain. Just too many things happening at once. Body adapting. Mana stabilizing. Pressure residue still wrapped around his bones like static that wouldn’t shake off.

’He said I’m halfway. Halfway to what, exactly? Becoming someone like him? Becoming someone like... Rathan?’

A soft chime echoed at the edge of his thoughts.

[System Sync: Complete]

[New Ability Tree Unlocked: Memory-Bound Techniques – Stage 1]

[Skill: Inverted Pulse – Acquired]

Merlin didn’t respond outwardly. Just let his fingers rest against his forehead, thumb tracing under his eye as the system’s voice faded again.

’Right. More skills. More reminders that I’m walking around in someone else’s history.’

"Did you eat?" Nathan asked.

Merlin blinked. "No."

"Go fix that." Nathan waved vaguely toward the kitchen. "I made that dumb rice-egg thing you like."

"You mean omurice?"

Nathan shrugged. "Whatever. That thing that looks like a dying omelette."

Merlin forced himself up. The soreness in his thighs complained immediately, but he ignored it. The kitchen lights flicked on with a small hum. The scent of soy, egg, and that weird ketchup glaze was still faintly there.

Elara wasn’t around. Probably out.

Dion and Mae... gone.

Not just out of the house.

Gone.

Like they’d never existed.

And no one had mentioned it.

He paused with the fridge open, staring at a bottle of water like it owed him answers.

’The hell happened to them?’

He shut the door slowly. Grabbed the plate Nathan had left on the counter, reheated it, and sat.

Two bites in, he heard footsteps.

The front door opened quietly, like whoever was entering didn’t want to make a scene.

He didn’t need to turn.

"You’re back," he said, mouth half-full of egg.

The white-haired man didn’t answer. Just crossed the room like he lived there. His coat didn’t make noise. His boots didn’t creak. He just was.

Merlin didn’t look up. "You eat?"

"No."

"Didn’t think so." He stabbed another bite. "Why are you here?"

"You need to be ready."

Merlin swallowed. "Define ready."

"Three days," the man said, ignoring the question. "That’s all you got before the next major event."

Merlin looked up now, the fork hanging midair. "You knew it was coming?"

"Yes."

Merlin stared. "You knew it. Like, from the start?"

The man nodded once. "That’s why I pushed you."

’He knew. Of course he did.’

"Can you be any less vague?" Merlin muttered. "Like, just one time, say something like a human."

The white-haired man’s expression didn’t shift, but his voice dropped a little.

"The northern territory border will collapse," he said. "An elder beast breaks through. It wipes out the entire squadron. Then the city. Then the next."

Merlin’s chest tightened. "That wasn’t in the novel. Not that I remember."

"It wasn’t. But this world is changing."

He didn’t blink.

Merlin leaned back, arms crossed. "And you just drop that on me casually, huh?"

"You’re strong enough to hear it now."

Silence.

Merlin glanced at Nathan in the living room. He hadn’t moved. Still reading. Still blissfully unaware that in three days, the sky might crack open.

Merlin sighed and set the fork down. "What’s your role in all this?"

The man tilted his head slightly. "I don’t have one."

"Bullshit."

"Then call it observation."

Merlin’s eyes narrowed. "No. You’re not just watching. You’re cleaning up. You erased Mae and Dion. You’re pulling strings behind the curtain."

For the first time, the man paused. Not defensive. Not surprised. Just acknowledging it with silence.

"I know what you are," Merlin said. "You’re not from this world either."

The man smiled faintly.

But he didn’t deny it.

Merlin stood. Slowly. The weight of everything felt tighter on his shoulders now.

"And the others?" he asked. "Do they ever find out?"

"No."

"They forget?"

"They never remembered."

Merlin crossed his arms again, gaze steady. "What about me?"

The man’s eyes met his. Pale. Sharp. Not cruel, but absolute.

"You remember," he said. "That’s why you’re different."

The room fell quiet again.

Merlin exhaled, long and low.

’Three days. A beast. A border collapse. And I’m the only one who knows it’s coming.’

He picked the fork back up and took another bite.

"What’s the name of the beast?" he asked.

The man looked toward the window.

"Nyreth," he said. "Class: Unknown."

Merlin nodded once. Chewed slowly.

"Cool," he said. "Guess I better get stronger."

The man didn’t respond.

Just turned to leave.

Merlin didn’t watch him go.

Because he didn’t need to anymore.

He already knew.

That man would always be there.

Watching.

Waiting.

And stepping in only when no one else could.

—

He didn’t finish the food.

Left three bites on the plate and set the fork down like he was done arguing with it. The microwave clock blinked something past midnight. Nathan had passed out in the armchair without even trying to look comfortable. One leg thrown over the side. Tablet still balanced across his chest.

Merlin rinsed the plate, set it in the sink, and leaned both hands on the edge of the counter.

’Three days.’

That wasn’t time.

That was a threat written in hours.

And Nyreth. Class unknown. That wasn’t just code for "strong." It was system-speak for "We haven’t classified this thing because everyone who’s tried is dead."

He let out a breath.

’Three days and a monster out of a disaster log. Cool. Just a normal Tuesday.’

A chime echoed again in his head. Cold, smooth, private.

[New Quest Registered: Boundary Breach – Nyreth Emergence]

[Time Remaining: 72:00:00]

[Objective: Survive Encounter. Minimize Civilian Casualties.]

[Warning: Your current level of strength is insufficient.]

’Yeah. No kidding.’

Another blink.

[Recommended Action: Rapid Progression Training Unlocked.]

A new panel flared open beside the sink, just over the water faucet like the System had a sense of humor. Merlin stared at the small glowing box.

[Accelerated Combat Echo Chamber – Access Granted]

[Location: Restricted. Mobile Deployment: Denied.]

[Optional Instructor Override: None Present.]

’Echo Chamber. That’s new.’

He closed the window.

He’d look at it later. If he kept reading system popups tonight, he was going to brain himself with a cabinet door.

He turned and padded to his room, flicking the hallway light off with his elbow. The quiet padded after him like it was trying to get his attention.

Elara’s door was shut. Seraphina’s room had been empty for days. Nathan snored once behind him.

The door clicked shut behind him.

The second it did, the space changed.

—

A message pinged.

[Private Channel Active – White]

[You forgot something.]

Merlin sat down on his bed. The system knew who "White" was. It didn’t even try to explain it anymore. Neither did he.

[You didn’t say what the trigger was.]

[You’ll know.]

[Vague.]

[You’re catching on.]

Merlin rolled onto his back and flopped a pillow over his face.

’Gods, he’s like if a metaphor and a deadpan stare had a baby.’

His ribs still ached.

His hands were still raw from training.

And his thoughts weren’t slowing down.

Every breath still tasted like the faintest leftover trace of metal from Rathan’s last scream. Every time he blinked, he saw the temple doors again, bent, blood-stained, dragging open to something that hadn’t been written yet.

And under it all?

The memory of that white-haired man walking through his life like a shadow that refused to disappear.

He turned to his side.

Three days.

He wouldn’t sleep.

Not yet.

He pulled open the drawer beside his bed and tugged out a worn notebook, paper, not system-generated. The kind that bled ink if you weren’t careful.

The last thing he’d written was back before the Labyrinth.

Before everything had gone sideways.

He uncapped the pen.

Paused.

Then started writing.

Event: Nyreth.

Timeline: 3 days.

Status: Class Unknown.

Location: Northern Territory.

Prediction: Border collapse, full city loss.

Objective: Prevent maximum death toll.

Required: Get stronger. Fast.

He flipped to a new page.

Action Plan:

Use the Echo Chamber.

Test new skill: Inverted Pulse.

Scout North. Don’t wait for disaster to show up.

Don’t die.

He underlined the last part.

Then, as an afterthought, scribbled under it:

Make sure Nathan doesn’t die either.

Merlin snapped the notebook shut and leaned back against the headboard. His hand still itched faintly where the mark from the ninth circle used to sting.

It didn’t now.

But he knew better.

It was still there. Just waiting.

He let his head roll to the side. The window was cracked. The city beyond it was quiet. No sirens. No fires. No monsters climbing over the skyline.

Not yet.

But soon.