'Here goes–I'm taking back my life and returning to Arcadius,' he resolved.
With utmost confidence, he stepped past the threshold of the Quandary Gate, immediately finding his senses warped as he passed through the nebulous portal, surrounded by a unique light that surrounded him with a feeling of weightlessness.
It was a surreal feeling that washed over him as the air shifted, turning from hot to cold, humid and dry, before he found himself now standing on a simple, straight bridge. The bridge was surrounded by nothing but a blank, white void, occupied only by ruinous buildings that floated through the unique realm.
It was undeniable now; he was no longer in the "After"; he now existed in the enigmatic space that connected life and death itself.
"...This is it…I just need to cross this bridge."
The atmosphere was distinctly different from the "depressing" air that filled the After; it wasn't quite silent, occupied by but a subtle hum that led to a feeling of mystery within the blank realm. He slowly began to cross the wooden bridge, finding himself peering over it, looking down only to find an infinite stretch of "white" descending below.
For some reason, he felt uneasy while walking over the bridge; the sound of his own steps echoed, reaching far. Sweat left his pores, filling him with a stress that rose unlike any other.
He recognized this feeling, knowing what was responsible for it as his covered eye felt a rising temperature:
'Primordials…There are so many here–I can feel it. They're all watching me; their gaze is suffocating,' he thought.
It was stiffening to be under the constant gaze of creatures so abstract that he couldn't even perceive them; all he could see was that empty, white void around him, yet the presence of the unseen entities weighed on him like a mountain.
Sweat cascaded down his body as he could even feel his metallic arm trembling, somehow; all of his focus was spent trying to ignore the ungodly, prying eyes and moving one foot in front of the other.
'Just keep moving forward. Don't pay it any mind–don't think about it…Pretend they don't exist,' he told himself.
It was a mere dozen steps, yet it took over an hour for him to cross the bridge within the realm of Quandary; slowly inching himself across its length as the pressure of the Primordials' gaze embedded itself deep within him.
Finally, he found a single door occupying the end of the bridge: an unassuming, black door that was attached to no building, only imposed on the air itself, waiting for him to open it.
'...Is this it?' He questioned.
Wrapping the fingers of his left hand around the handle, it felt warm, as if infused with the touch of life itself; he slowly turned it, opening the doorway as he crossed it without a second thought, lured by the nostalgic air it exuded.
–
"Nngh!"
He suddenly inhaled sharply, opening his eyes as he found himself looking up towards an unknown ceiling, laying on some sort of table.
BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP. BA-DUMP.
Thudding inside of his chest, his heart felt lively, pumping the essence of life through his veins as the warmth throughout his body was unmistakable:
'I'm alive,' he realized.
There were bandages wrapped all around his body, though he chose not to tear them off as they seemed to be important.
He had to keep his right eye shut, finding himself without the eyepatch he was gifted by the Progenitor, though somehow, the black-steel arm that was made by the elf manifested on his right side, seamlessly attaching where his right arm was.
'The contract with Blimpo worked–good,' he thought.
As he sat up, he looked around, finding himself in a well-furnished room, though not recognizing it. Though the smell of pine and furbished wood greeted his nose with a welcoming scent of the world of Arcadius.
He noticed one other person in the room—asleep on the couch across from the table he was laying on as he got up.
"Everett," he said quietly, surprised but humbled to find his friend waiting by his body.
As his feet landed on the floor, the slumbering figure woke up, jumping to his feet as he blinked towards Emilio as if seeing a ghost.
"Emilio…Izzat you?" Everett asked.
Tears lined his eyes as it set into reality that he was finally back after an arduous journey through death itself, nodding, "It's me."
"I knew ya would make it!"
He suddenly found himself grasped in the arms of the bumpkin shielder, who happily lifted him up into an embrace, spinning him around.
"Hey…! I'm still adjusting!" Emilio said.
"Oh, right!...My bad," Everett said, putting him down.
There was far too much to explain, though it seemed Everett was more focused on the fact he was alive than how it came to be. Still, it seemed some part of this was expected.
"Melisande is gonna be delighted to see ya!" Everett said.
"Is she here? Where are we, anyway?" He asked.
Everett answered, "The Guild Foundation–they've been taking special care of ya while ya were…well, ya know."
"Dead," he said.
"Yeah, that," Everett ruffled his own hair.
The door to the recovery room was suddenly swung open as a familiar girl with silver hair and shining, emerald eyes stood in the doorway with a look of disbelief and hope in those jewels.
"Emilio…?" Melisande said, as if not believing what she was seeing.
"The one and only," he smiled.
Before he knew it, he was hugged again, finding the girl's arms wrapping around his stomach and her face being buried in his chest. It wasn't a feeling he was opposed to, though, as he stroked her hair and returned the embrace.
"I was so worried…" Melisande said.
"Sorry," he apologized with a soft smile, "There's a lot I need to tell you, though."
"There is?" Melisande looked up at him.
He nodded before noticing the other person that seemed to come along with Melisande, though didn't jump into his arms like the other two.
Yuna stood in the doorway, not one for a dramatic reunion, "Welcome back."
"Good to be back," Emilio said.
—
After notifying the nurses and medical mages of the facility that the Dragonheart had awakened, the bandages were helped off of his body before he was sent towards the tailor that had a change of clothes ready for him:
A verdant cloak along with a black-and-gold vest, a light-gray, silken shirt beneath with rolled up sleeves, and matching trousers. Fortunately, they had eyepatches laying around too, giving him a simple, black covering for his special eye.
'Feels good to have my normal clothes again–fits like a charm,' he thought.
"Dashing fit, young man."
Witnessing him come out from the special tailor sector of the Foundation was the tailor himself that was contracted to the Guild Foundation–an eccentric man with a twirly, orange mustache and a sublime, gold monocle with a suit fit for an aristocrat, though colorful like a spring day.
"Thanks–you got it down perfectly," Emilio remarked.
"No outfit is too complex for myself, Don Vandrosa, to replicate," the tailor said with a tip of his hat.
–
After returning from the visit to the eccentric tailor, he reunited with his companions again with his verdant cloak flowing behind him, also having his special sword–"Silver Wing"--returned to him.
"Still…I can't believe ya needed to trade yer arm," Everett said.
He went through telling them what had happened in the After, mainly explaining what had happened in regards to his right arm and eye.
"Yeah, it's fine though–really, this arm is even better," he assured his companions, moving his black-steel arm around.
"So, you really saw my big brother again…and he helped you," Melisande said.
"Yeah," Emilio nodded.
Melisande didn't seem to know how to process this information before smiling, though a sadness laid in her eyes, "That's amazing. He's doing good, then."
"He was the same, goofy guy I knew," he assured the girl.
After a long time of less-than-culinary masterpieces to eat during his journey in the After, he chewed on a refreshing sandwich while sitting in the lobby of the Guild Foundation, spending time with his friends after what felt like an eternity away.
The lobby of the Foundation was occupied by many vendors and traveling adventurers, flooded with reception desks and countless quests needing to be taken.
"You made it back, huh? Good job."
Approaching the table he was sitting at in the busy lobby, a horned man in a black suit walked over.
"Hey, Scarlet!" Everett greeted.
"Scarlet? Oh, you're the guy from back then," Emilio recalled.
"'That guy', huh?...Well, I'm just glad you made it back. The Foundation would mourn the loss of such a promising adventurer–speaking of which, here you go," Scarlet said.
It wasn't any sort of special ceremony, though it didn't need to be: the moment that insignia was pulled out of a lavish box that the Nihilum Core member revealed from his pocket, Emilio felt his heart flutter.
"You're now officially a world-class adventurer of the Guild Foundation; welcome aboard, rookie," Scarlet bestowed upon him his official necklace.
Emilio gulped down the sandwich he held, accepting the dragon-designed necklace and adding it to his neck along with the other necklace he wore, thanks to Irene.
"Thank you!" Emilio said.
"I should be thanking you. Hate to admit it, but you saved our asses–a lot of asses, really, out there," Scarlet said, sliding his hands into his pockets, "I already heard from your friends that you'd be wanting to head home and visit your family again. The Foundation has arranged a ride to your hometown. I suggest you use that time to rest up and recover–your body is certainly going to need it."
"Really? Awesome. I appreciate it!" Emilio said.
"No problem," Scarlet walked off with a simple wave.
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