Machina Arcanis: Two Worlds Collided
Chapter 159. Mending the Old Wound

“W~where am I?” Zetius stammered. His voice was coarse and husky, and his head throbbed with pain.

“Zeta! It’s me, Astrid,” the lady called out, shaking his shoulders gently. His eyes swam, taking in the white medical chamber with its array of equipment, until they finally settled on his foe, of all people. A faint beeping noise resonated in the background. The sharp, clean aroma of antiseptic caught his nose.

“Astrid? What’s going on?” Zetius mumbled, his eyes wide.

Astrid smirked, still brushing his shoulders. “Welcome back to the world of the living, Zeta.”

After a doctor and a nurse came to check Zetius’s vital signs, they seemed pleased with the results and advised him to get some rest. Simultaneously, Astrid recounted the timeline. In this world, Zetius had taken a critical blow. His body had been admitted to the medical hospital located in the Arcana Institute. Zetius was physically healed with arcane magic, but his mind had lapsed into a comatose state for months. Despite this, to him, it felt like only a couple of days had passed since he was struck down in the Dreamless Realm.

The doctor and nurse exited the room shortly after, leaving him and Astrid alone. Silence crept in almost immediately as the two struggled to find words. Their fierce rivalry had now transformed into awkwardness.

Zetius gulped down a glass of water, quenching his thirst. He noticed now that Astrid appeared awfully feminine in her dress, rather than her usual armour. To be honest with himself, it was quite unsettling.

Astrid sat timidly, her hands resting on her touching knees.

On his bedside table, a vase of tulips was placed. Their freshness indicated they had been put there recently. Another vase held a completely different flower — the red spider lily. Zetius frowned at this vase and pointed. “Are those yours?” he asked, striking up a conversation.

Astrid flinched slightly before nodding frantically.

“Thanks. Weird combination, though. Why two vases with two different types of flowers?” Zetius asked.

“Oh… I didn’t bring the red one,” Astrid admitted, her voice retaining its trademark deep tone.

“I see.” Zetius sniffed. “Tulips have their own meaning, you know.”

Astrid sat up straighter and crossed her arms defensively. “Don’t try to be sophisticated, Zeta.”

Still, Zetius smiled mischievously. “If my hunch is correct, are you asking for my forgiveness?”

She averted her head, then gave him a sideways glance. “Maybe.” Then she pretended that the sky visible through the window frame was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Hahaha, fine.” Zetius chuckled, then coughed a few times. His body still needed to adjust. Months had passed since he blacked out at the colosseum.

He cupped her shoulder, his expression solemn. “You’re forgiven. And I apologise for what happened back then. I was drowned by my own prejudice and ego, and those led me to underestimate you.”

Her lips trembled as she felt a weight lift from her heart, something she had been contemplating for months, finally resolved. “Zeta, I’m sorry too… I was wrong to call you out, you’re not the shadow of the original Zetius. You’re the upgrade, the mature one.”

A warmth spread through Zetius at her admission, a tangible sense of relief. This was it, he genuine reconciliation he hadn’t dared to truly expect, unfolding right here, right now.

Fidgeting her fingers, Astrid added, a hint of her old bluntness returning, “I’d prefer this version over the condescending prick you used to be.”

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“Let’s put it all behind us, Astrid. You’re—” His words were interrupted when Astrid hugged him tightly. He returned the embrace with a soft pat on her back. Despite her muscular body, she was still a young woman, capable of feeling and being hurt.

All in all, her hug felt surprisingly strong, almost like a bear. “Those muscles clearly weren’t for show,”

After a good while, they parted, a quiet understanding having settled between them. As he ran his fingers through his silver hair, he suddenly panicked. “Wait! Where’s Cubie?” He tapped his chest anxiously.

Instant fear surged forth.

“What? Who?” Astrid sprang up, looking around in alarm. “You mean that cube thing that’s usually by your side?”

Zetius nodded, feeling his heart sink. “Cubie!? Cubie!?” he called out, his voice cracking.

“Is she stuck in the Dreamless Realm somehow?!” His mind raced, and sweat formed on his brow.

“Hmmmmmmm…” a voice rang from his chest. “Why… why did you wake up, Zetius?” Cubie replied, her words drowsy as she floated out. The irregular cube whirred slowly.

“Gaia… I thought I’d lost you,” Zetius said, cupping her with both hands. A sense of relief washed over him. Seeing her like this again felt natural.

“No wooooooorry, sleepy…” She bobbed up and down before being absorbed into his body.

“Okay, stay in your slot,” Zetius muttered softly, in a hushed tone.

Astrid watched from afar with amazement. “You’re a box of surprises, Zeta.”

“I feel like having a bath. Would you mind?” Zetius stretched and swung his legs to the side of the bed. As he slowly stood up, he experienced a slight wobbliness, but Astrid’s solid frame held him steady.

“I’ve got you, big boy,” Astrid said with a smirk.

A few hours passed as the two recounted their past lives together, akin to a conversation between two friends who hadn’t seen one another for a long time. Their studies under Master Ignius became the main topic of the evening.

Astrid lifted both fingers and adopted a mock stern voice, resting her back against the wall near the window. “And Master Ignius lectured, ‘You must destroy your evil with haste. And ultimately, without any remorse.’ That’s his way, the way of warmongers. The ruthless champions of Aries.”

Zetius chuckled. “Those were good old times.”

Then Astrid fidgeted with her fingers, finding it difficult to vocalise her thoughts. “After the attack… your ambush… our master went into solitude. He disappeared from the council and even from the Institute. I tried to reach out, but…” Her words trembled, becoming unsteady.

Zetius felt a pang of sorrow. He saw how his own perceived righteousness had twisted into something malevolent in his master. The kind of malevolence that could sacrifice seventy million souls to fuel a forbidden spell — the runic circlet Jack saw adorning the sky was his master’s doing.

“It’s fine. Master Ignius has fallen to a dark path. It’s up to us to bring him back to the light. To justice,” Zetius said, grinding his teeth, conviction ringing in his voice.

Astrid nodded twice in agreement.

Suddenly, the door swung open, followed by two figures, Aurelia and Friederich, both in business attire.

“Zeta!” Aurelia bellowed, a happy smile painted across her face. Meanwhile, Friederich approached with an amicable grin.

“You two!” Zetius called out as Aurelia rushed into his embrace. Her small, delicate frame felt soft and warm. Her sweet perfume filled his nostrils, and her red hair brushed gently against his forearm. Simultaneously, Zetius lifted his fist towards Friederich, and his friend bumped it in return.

“I knew even Hades couldn’t hold you. I had faith that Nyrethein couldn’t keep you there for long, my friend,” Friederich said, his visibly tensed body finally relaxing.

Zetius’s gaze fell upon Friederich’s sheath, which he still wore proudly. “I’m glad you still carry the Arc sheath.”

Friederich looked at Astrid awkwardly before clearing his throat. “Yes, I’d like to apolo—”

“Come on, Friederich,” Zetius interrupted with a smile. “The only way to grow is to make mistakes. Now you’ve learned the cost of power and its consequences.” He swept his gaze across the room, taking in Aurelia, Friederich, and Astrid.

“See? All of us are safe and sound,” Zetius concluded firmly in his husky tone.

Friederich’s lips curled into a smile, a genuine warmth finally chasing the shadows from his eyes. That simple expression, mirrored by Aurelia’s hopeful gaze and even a subtle softening in Astrid’s observant stance, resonated deeper than any grand pronouncement.

Zetius let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. The antiseptic scent of the room, the faint beeping of distant machines, none of it could dampen the quiet strength emanating from their reforged connections. The future remained a canvas of uncertainties, a fallen master, looming prophecies, and the echoes of cosmic revelations, but in this moment, surrounded by faces that chose to stand with him, the old wounds truly felt like they were beginning to mend. This, he realised, was the most potent healing of all.