Chapter 4: Talia Rivera
Lanz woke up feeling like he got mugged by leg day.
Every joint in his body ached. Not the good kind of sore where you flex and feel like a champion. No, this sh*t was the kind that screamed, "Congratulations, you’re f*cking dying today!"
He rolled onto his back and let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan. Morning sunlight poured in through the curtains, way too cheerful for how he felt.
"Note to self," he muttered, staring at the ceiling, "no more three-hour solo sword sessions unless I’m actively trying to become an old man by nineteen."
The relic crystal on his desk pulsed faintly, like it was judging him.
He dragged himself out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom. His reflection looked worse than he felt. Hair a mess, hoodie collar askew, bags under his eyes deep enough to have their own zip codes.
"Peak athlete," he muttered, brushing his teeth with the speed and enthusiasm of a dying sloth.
Downstairs, the TV was already on. His little sister Miko was hogging the couch again, curled up with a bowl of cereal like it was her throne.
"Morning, Failure Monarch" she greeted without looking up.
"Morning, Gremlin," Lanz replied, pouring himself coffee. "TV volume’s on max again. You trying to summon demons, or just being annoying for sport?"
"Both," she said, grinning. "Hey, you’re on again."
He froze mid-sip.