Death's Ultimate Upgrade

Chapter 3: The Bodyguard’s Obsession

“Move!” Nyvara’s command echoed through the narrow, debris-choked alley as she pulled Kaelion into the darkness, just seconds before the searchlights of an Association drone swept over the spot where he’d stood.

Kaelion stumbled, his new boots—which felt surprisingly sturdy despite being scorched—skidding on the oily pavement. “Hey, watch the arm! I’m still technically a medical miracle, remember?”

“You’re a walking catastrophe,” Nyvara shot back, her voice a low hiss. She didn't slow down, her silver hair shimmering like a ghost in the moonlight as she navigated the labyrinth of Sector 7’s ruins. “We need to get to the sub-level safehouse before the perimeter is locked down. Can you keep up, or do I need to carry you like a sack of mana-crystals?”

“I’m keeping up! Actually, I’m barely even breathing hard,” Kaelion realized, his eyes widening as he checked his internal clock. They were moving at a pace that would have left the old him hacking up a lung, but now? He felt like he was coasting. “Is this the 180 Agility? Because if it is, I am never going back to taking the bus.”

“Focus, Vexaris. We’re not out of the woods.”

They ducked under a rusted shutter and into the skeletal remains of an old subway entrance. Nyvara finally stopped, spinning around to face him. She raised a hand, her fingers glowing with a pale, translucent blue light.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Kaelion asked, instinctively backing into a damp brick wall. “Is that a ‘memory wipe’ thing? Because I’d really like to remember the part where I punched a monster into dust.”

“Hold still,” she commanded. Her eyes, usually a sharp silver, began to swirl with golden rings. “Eye of Truth, Level 4. I need to see what you actually are.”

Kaelion felt a strange, tingling sensation wash over him, like a thousand tiny needles prickling his skin. “Look, I already told you. I’m just Kaelion. F-rank scavenger, mediocre cook, and apparently, a part-time fireball. There’s no secret hidden under my skin.”

“Shut up,” Nyvara muttered, her brow furrowing. She leaned in closer, her face inches from his. He could smell the ozone and cold steel that seemed to radiate from her armor. “The system says… what? Eternal Phoenix? Host Status: Reborn? Your mana veins aren't even blue, Kaelion. They’re molten gold.”

“Is that bad? Gold is valuable, right?”

“It’s impossible,” she breathed, the golden rings in her eyes fading as she deactivated the skill. She looked at him with a mixture of awe and genuine irritation. “You weren't lying. You really did die. The system logged a total vitality collapse, followed by a ‘Solar Resurrection.’ Do you have any idea what this means?”

“It means I don't have to pay my rent this month because I’m legally dead?” Kaelion suggested hopefully.

“It means you’re the most dangerous resource on the planet,” Nyvara said, stepping back and pacing the small, dark space. “The Association, the Cult of the Rift, the Northern Syndicates—they’d all kill a thousand people just to get a drop of your blood. A system that bypasses permanent death? That’s the Holy Grail of Awakening.”

Kaelion rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the warmth of the wing tattoo on his chest. “Okay, okay, I get it. It’s a big deal. But look at the stats! 250 Strength! I could probably bench-press a tank. If I’m that strong, why are we hiding?”

“Because you have the combat experience of a wet noodle!” Nyvara snapped, turning back to him. “Stats aren't everything. A D-rank with ten years of training could still trip you up and slit your throat while you’re busy admiring your own glow.”

“Hey, I’ve got skills! I just… haven't unlocked them yet,” Kaelion argued. He navigated his mental UI, scrolling through the confusing notifications. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Nyvara, look at this. There’s a sub-menu for the Rebirth protocol.”

“What does it say?”

“It says… ‘Passive Trait: Tempered by the Flame. Permanent +10% to all physical resistances upon each successful Resurrection.’ And there’s another one. ‘Next Milestone: Solar Flare Strike (Requires 2nd Death).’”

The silence that followed was heavy. Kaelion looked up from his screen, a slow, manic grin spreading across his face.

“No,” Nyvara said flatly.

“Think about it!” Kaelion waved his hands enthusiastically. “If I die, I get stronger. It’s like a cheat code! If I just go jump off a bridge a few dozen times, I’ll be invincible. I could be S-rank by breakfast!”

“You are not jumping off a bridge, you idiot!”

“Why not? It’s efficient! We can find a nice, high ledge, you can give me a little push—purely for training purposes, obviously—and then boom, I wake up with a defense buff. It’s the perfect grinding strategy.”

Nyvara marched up to him, her gauntlets sparking. “Do you have any idea how much mana a Resurrection surge puts out? It’s like setting off a flare in a dark room. Every Rift-beast within ten miles will be knocking on our door. Not to mention, you don't know the limit! What if it only works three times? What if there’s a cooldown? You’re talking about throwing away your life for a ten-percent buff!”

“But it’s a permanent ten percent!” Kaelion countered. “Look, all my life, I’ve been the guy who gets stepped on. I was the F-rank who couldn't even afford a real sword. Now, for the first time, I have a way to actually stay ahead. If the cost of power is a little bit of dying, I’m willing to pay it.”

“I am not letting my only lead on the Phoenix System commit suicide because he’s greedy for stats,” Nyvara growled.

“Oh, so now I’m your ‘lead’?” Kaelion crossed his arms. “A second ago, I was a ‘walking catastrophe.’ Make up your mind, Silver Valkyrie.”

“You’re both,” she said, her voice dropping an octave.

Before Kaelion could react, Nyvara moved. Her hand blurred, grabbing the front of his scorched jacket and slamming him back against the stone pillar. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and he found himself staring directly into her intense, silver gaze. She was strong—terrifyingly so. Even with his boosted stats, the sheer pressure of her presence felt like a physical weight.

“Listen to me, Kaelion Vexaris,” she whispered, her face inches from his. “You think this is a game because you saw a blue screen. But I’ve seen what happens to people who think they’re immortal. They get cocky, they get sloppy, and eventually, they find something that doesn't just kill them—it erases them. If you’re the Phoenix, then I’m the cage. You’re not dying unless I say so. You’re not leveling up unless I’m there to watch your back. From this second on, you are my responsibility.”

Kaelion swallowed hard, his heart hammering against his ribs—not from fear, but from the sheer intensity of her focus. “You’re… you’re being a bit intense, don't you think? Most people just start with a handshake and a nondisclosure agreement.”

“I don't do agreements. I do results,” Nyvara said, her grip tightening slightly before she let go. She smoothed out his jacket with a lingering, possessive pat. “You want to get stronger? Fine. I’ll train you. I’ll show you how to use that 250 Strength without breaking your own arm. But the ‘jumping off bridges’ plan is officially canceled.”

Kaelion let out a long breath, sliding down the wall a few inches. “Fine. No bridges. But if I see a really tempting cliff, I’m at least going to mention it.”

“Mention it and I’ll break your legs myself. No mana required.”

“You’re kind of scary, you know that?” Kaelion muttered, trying to regain his composure. “Is this how you treat all your ‘wildcards’?”

“Only the ones who are too stupid to value their own lives,” she replied, checking her tactical HUD. “Now, get up. We’re moving to the safehouse in Sector 4. It’s shielded against thermal scans, so you can stop glowing like a—"

Suddenly, a sound cut through the air. It wasn't the hum of a drone or the roar of a beast. It was the high-pitched, rhythmic wail of the Colony’s emergency siren.

WROOOO—WROOOO—WROOOO—

The red lights of the subway tunnel began to pulse in sync with the alarm.

“That’s the Rift Siren,” Kaelion said, his voice turning serious. “That’s not for a scout. That’s a localized breach.”

Nyvara’s eyes went wide as she tapped her ear comms. “Command, report! What’s the frequency? I’m hearing the Class-A alarm.”

“Nyvara!” a voice crackled through the speaker, audible even to Kaelion. “We’ve got a massive surge! A Rank-A Rift just opened in the middle of the Sector 7 Commercial Plaza! It’s a ‘Grave-Walker’ class event. The local garrison is being decimated. We need every S-rank on-site five minutes ago!”

Nyvara cursed under her breath, her armor’s runes igniting with a fierce, silver light. She looked at Kaelion, then at the exit.

“Well,” Kaelion said, a nervous sweat breaking out on his forehead. “I guess you’re going to work. I’ll just… stay here? Hide in a box? Maybe find a nice book?”

Nyvara grabbed his wrist in a grip of iron. “Not a chance, Phoenix.”

“Wait, what?”

“You wanted to level up, right?” she asked, a dangerous, predatory smile crossing her lips as she began to drag him toward the stairs. “You wanted to see what 250 Strength can do? Well, here’s your chance. If you’re going to be a hero, you might as well start with an A-rank breach.”

“Nyvara, wait! I don't even have a weapon! My dagger broke on a Slag-Beast!”

“Then use your fists!” she shouted over the mounting roar of the siren, leaping up the stairs and pulling him into the chaotic, red-lit night. “And try not to die in the first five minutes. It’s embarrassing for my reputation!”

“I hate my life!” Kaelion yelled, even as his legs moved with a speed he couldn't control, following the Silver Valkyrie directly into the mouth of hell. “I really, really hate my life!”

“Save the complaining for the afterlife!” Nyvara laughed, and together, they vanished into the smoke of the burning city.