Chapter 39 : The Weapon
Dirga froze mid-motion.
A flicker of awareness skimmed the nape of his neck—sharp, electric, alive. Not just the mosquito. Something else.
Two presences.
His gaze narrowed, eyes glinting with new alertness. His telekinesis reached out like a reflexive breath and caught a flicker in the air.
A second mosquito.
"...Wait. Has it already been two days?" he muttered, blinking.
Above the arena, Sasa floated upside-down, lounging like a cloud caught in an idle daydream. He raised a spoonful of pudding and waved it lazily. "Well, yeah. That’s what happens when time passes, kid."
Dirga frowned. No hunger clawed at him. No fatigue dulled his thoughts. His body didn’t ache. It just felt... wrong. Or different.
"Your body’s not what it used to be," Sasa said casually, licking the spoon clean with his rabbit tongue. "You’re transformed now. You’ll still need food, maybe even sleep—but not in the ways you remember. Sleep’s more for the soul now than the flesh."
Dirga rolled his neck until a sharp crack echoed through the chamber. His skin shimmered faintly under the torchlight—denser, more responsive. His very stance felt more grounded, like his bones remembered combat even before his brain did.
His eyes shifted toward the Crimson Core, floating beside him like a faithful ghost.