CHAPTER 80 — HE REALLY CAME BACK

No one spoke.

No one moved.

Percy's eyes had closed again.

But this time, his chest was moving.

Slowly.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

Clara still held his hand. The fingers that had been cold moments ago were warm.

Truly warm.

Clara looked at Percy's hand, then his face, then his hand again.

“Percy?”

There was no answer. The hope on her face turned to fear in an instant.

“Percy?”

Elizabeth Olsen hurried to their side.

“Don't move away.”

Clara looked at her. “What?”

“Don't let go of his hand.”

Clara had no intention of letting go.

Olsen placed two fingers against Percy's neck and waited.

One second.

Two.

Then she felt it.

A pulse.

It was not weak. It was not irregular.

It was there.

Olsen's eyes widened.

“His heart is beating.”

No one reacted. It was as though the words needed several seconds to reach them.

Eleanor stepped forward. “What?”

Olsen checked again.

“His heart is beating.”

Galahad came around to the other side of the bed.

“Are you sure?”

Olsen looked at him. “Galahad.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Check again.”

Olsen watched him for a few seconds, then turned back to Percy and checked once more.

“Galahad.”

“What?”

“His heart is beating.”

Galahad did not answer. He stared at Percy's chest.

Up.

Down.

His lips trembled.

“He really...”

He could not finish.

A day and a half earlier, six healers had surrounded the same bed.

All of them had tried. One targeted Percy's heart. Another his nervous system. One worked on his tissue, one on his Core, one on his Orin flow, and one on his entire body.

None had succeeded.

Now three of those same people stood around Percy again.

This time, none of them were healing him.

They were only staring.

One healer examined Percy's chest, then looked at another.

“Damage?”

“None.”

“His heart?”

“None.”

“Nervous system?”

“Normal.”

“The lightning?”

“No trace.”

The first healer frowned. “Impossible.”

Wycliffe watched them from behind the glass.

Olsen raised her head. “His Core?”

A healer examined it, remained silent for a while, then answered.

“It's working.”

William immediately stepped closer.

“Is it stable?”

The healer looked at him. “Yes.”

William frowned. “What about the damage from before his death?”

“I can't find it.”

“His heart stopped.”

“I know.”

“His nervous system was damaged.”

“I know.”

“There was no circulation for a day and a half.”

“William.”

“I know.”

The healer shook his head. “I don't understand either.”

William fell silent. His eyes returned to Percy, and the words everyone had heard minutes earlier resurfaced in his mind.

[BODY CLOCK REVERSING.]

[SOUL CLOCK REVERSING.]

William's eyes widened slightly.

Wycliffe opened the door and entered.

“It didn't heal him.”

Everyone turned toward him. Wycliffe was looking at Percy.

William frowned. “What?”

Wycliffe approached slowly.

“Healing repairs what has been damaged.”

He looked at Percy's chest.

One healer nodded. “Yes.”

“But you can't find repaired tissue here.”

“No.”

“Scarring?”

“None.”

“Nerve damage?”

“None.”

“Permanent cellular damage?”

“None that we can see.”

Wycliffe fell silent.

William understood.

“It took it back.”

Wycliffe looked at him.

William pointed toward Percy.

“It didn't heal the damage. It took the damage back.”

Silence.

Olsen's expression changed.

“The fire.”

Wycliffe turned to her. Olsen held a hand over Percy's chest and tried to sense something.

Then she pulled it back sharply.

Galahad moved at once. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Olsen tried again, more carefully this time. Her face slowly changed.

“This...” She looked at Percy. “...isn't his old flame.”

Everyone fell silent. Olsen was a fire instructor. She was the person least likely to be mistaken.

“The Fire Element he used before is no longer here.”

“Chaos Fire Dragon,” Wycliffe said.

Olsen nodded. “That was what the universe called it.”

One healer murmured, “Can one element completely replace another?”

Olsen did not answer.

She did not know.

“Twenty percent,” William said.

Olsen turned toward him. His eyes were still on Percy.

“It was nineteen percent just before he died.”

Clara raised her head and remembered Percy's final moment.

That voice.

Nineteen percent.

“Then it became twenty,” William continued.

“The condition was met,” Wycliffe said.

William nodded.

“Death.”

That word silenced the room again.

Clara tightened her grip on Percy's hand. Olsen looked at her. Clara's face had fallen once more.

Wycliffe noticed.

“Clara.”

She did not answer.

“He is alive now.”

Clara looked at Percy. His chest was still moving.

Up.

Down.

Up.

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Down.

She slowly nodded.

“I know.”

But she did not let go.

Holar Jun had listened to the entire conversation without speaking.

William was calculating. Wycliffe was trying to understand the mechanism. Olsen was sensing the new flame. The healers were talking among themselves. Eleanor was crying. Galahad refused to leave Percy's side.

Holar only looked at his grandson.

At last, he spoke.

“His heart?”

The healer immediately answered. “Beating.”

“Normal?”

“Yes.”

“Breathing?”

“Normal.”

“Core?”

“Stable.”

Holar waited a few seconds.

“His soul?”

The healer did not know how to answer.

Olsen stepped in. “The universe said his soul clock was reversed.”

Holar looked at Percy for a while without saying anything. Then he sat down.

“Alright.”

William turned to him. “Alright?”

Holar nodded. “Alright.”

Wycliffe raised an eyebrow. “Holar.”

“What?”

“Your grandson returned from a day and a half of death.”

“I noticed.”

“The time of his body and soul was reversed.”

“I heard that too.”

“A different flame completely replaced the Fire Element we knew.”

Holar looked at Percy again.

“Adrian.”

“Yes?”

“Is his heart beating?”

Wycliffe fell silent.

Holar continued.

“You can solve the rest later.”

Wycliffe had no answer. Eleanor laughed involuntarily through her tears. Olsen lowered her head.

Even William did not object.

Minutes passed.

Percy slept, but the silence in the room was different now.

An hour ago, no one had wanted to speak. Now no one dared speak too loudly, as though they were afraid of waking him.

Nathaniel sat against the wall, watching Percy.

After a while, his stomach made a sound.

GRRRR.

Everyone in the room turned toward him.

Nathaniel looked down, then around.

“What?”

Charlotte's mouth fell open. “Nathaniel.”

“What?”

“Percy died.”

Nathaniel looked at Percy. “Not anymore.”

Charlotte was silent for several seconds.

“We've been sitting here for a day and a half.”

Nathaniel thought about it.

“And now I'm hungry.”

Silence.

Arthur stared at him. Nathaniel shrugged.

“What do you want me to do?”

His stomach growled again.

“I'm serious. I'm starving.”

Arthur watched him for several seconds.

Normally, he would have mocked him.

Animal.

For once in your life, stop thinking about food.

Nathaniel waited for it.

Arthur reached into his pocket.

“I'll pay.”

Nathaniel froze. “What?”

“For the food.”

Nathaniel looked at him suspiciously. “You?”

“Yes.”

“For me?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “Move before I change my mind.”

A smile slowly appeared on Nathaniel's face.

“How much can I eat?”

“Canceled.”

“ARTHUR!”

Arthur started for the door. Nathaniel ran after him.

“I was joking.”

“No, you weren't.”

“No, I wasn't.”

Arthur laughed despite himself. Nathaniel laughed too.

Charlotte watched them.

Then she laughed as well.

William shook his head. For the first time, a small smile appeared on Galahad's face. Eleanor laughed through her tears. Olsen closed her eyes.

Wycliffe looked at Percy.

After a day and a half, the room was alive again.

Percy woke again two hours later.

This time, he did not open his eyes only to close them again.

He opened them, stared at the ceiling, and thought for a while.

Then he asked, “Why am I still here?”

Twelve heads turned toward him at once.

Percy blinked.

“...What?”

The food in Nathaniel's hand fell to the floor.

“PRESIDENT!”

Percy flinched. “WHAT THE—”

Nathaniel charged toward the bed. Galahad caught him in midair.

“STOP.”

“LET GO.”

“DON'T JUMP ON HIM.”

“THE PRESIDENT WOKE UP.”

“I CAN SEE THAT.”

Percy raised his head. “Nathaniel?”

Nathaniel struggled in Galahad's arms.

“PRESIDENT.”

“I'm not the president anymore.”

Nathaniel stopped.

Percy stared at him for several seconds.

“Former President,” Nathaniel said.

The corner of Percy's mouth curved. “That's longer.”

Nathaniel's expression changed. Percy noticed it too.

They looked at each other for a few seconds. Then Nathaniel turned his head and wiped his eyes.

“Alright, Percy.”

Percy smiled.

“Alright.”

Galahad released Nathaniel.

Then he walked toward Percy himself.

Percy looked at him. “Big brother.”

Galahad stopped.

“What?” Percy asked.

Galahad embraced him without a word. Percy's eyes widened.

“Big brother.”

Galahad squeezed harder.

“Big brother, air.”

He loosened his hold a little.

“Better.”

Galahad's voice came from Percy's shoulder.

“Never do that again.”

“Do what?”

Galahad raised his head. “Die.”

Percy considered it for several seconds.

“It wasn't in my plan.”

Galahad's face twisted. Then he laughed, and a tear ran down his cheek at the same time.

Percy lifted a hand and patted his back.

“I'm alright.”

Galahad did not respond.

Percy said it again.

“Big brother.”

“Hm?”

“I'm alright.”

Galahad nodded. “I know.”

But he did not release him for several more seconds.

Arthur stood at the foot of the bed. Percy saw him.

“Weren't you supposed to be my rival?”

Arthur's expression changed at once.

Percy raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Why do you look like you've been crying?”

“I wasn't.”

Richard spoke from behind him. “He was.”

Arthur spun around. “FATHER.”

Richard laughed for the first time.

Percy looked at Arthur. “You cried?”

“No.”

“Should I believe you or your father?”

“Me,” Arthur said.

“Me,” Richard said.

Percy thought about it.

“I believe Uncle Richard.”

Arthur scowled. “You were better when you were dead.”

The room fell silent.

All the color drained from Arthur's face.

“I...”

Percy burst out laughing.

Arthur froze. Percy held his stomach as he laughed.

“Look at your face.”

Arthur stared at him for several seconds, then grabbed Percy's pillow and threw it into his face.

“YOU SON OF A BITCH.”

Percy's voice came from beneath the pillow.

“THERE'S MY RIVAL.”

Richard closed his eyes, but he was smiling.

Wycliffe approached last.

Percy grimaced when he saw him.

“Teacher.”

“Percy.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Wycliffe remained silent.

“Teacher?”

Wycliffe adjusted his glasses.

“You were dead for a day and a half.”

Percy thought about it. “Yes.”

“Then you came back.”

“It appears so.”

“Your body and soul clocks were reversed.”

“I heard.”

“Your Fire Element changed.”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “I heard that too.”

“And after all of that...” Wycliffe looked at his face. “...the first thing you did was argue with Arthur.”

Percy shrugged. “It wasn't my fault.”

Arthur shouted from behind him. “HOW WAS IT NOT YOUR FAULT?”

Wycliffe closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Then he smiled.

“Yes.”

Percy frowned. “Yes, what?”

Wycliffe shook his head. “Nothing.”

But now he was certain.

It really was Percy.

Toward evening, the healers performed their final examinations.

Percy's Core was stable. His heart was stable. His Orin flowed normally.

The new flame was incomprehensible, but it was not harming him.

Percy could walk. He could eat. He could talk. He could annoy Arthur and steal food from Nathaniel without permission.

“THAT'S MINE,” Nathaniel protested.

“I died,” Percy said.

Nathaniel fell silent. Percy took a second piece.

“You can't keep using that.”

“One week.”

“One day.”

“Five days.”

“Two.”

“Four.”

“Three.”

Percy extended his hand. “Deal.”

Nathaniel shook it. “Three days.”

William spoke from behind them.

“There is no logic to this negotiation.”

Both answered at once.

“Shut up, William.”

William fell silent, then shook his head.

Percy was taken home.

Holar wanted to carry him. Percy refused.

“I can walk.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you carrying me?”

“Because I want to.”

“Grandpa.”

Holar lifted him into his arms. Percy's mouth fell open.

“I'M SEVEN YEARS OLD.”

“I know.”

“I'M NOT A BABY.”

“I know that too.”

Galahad laughed behind them.

“DON'T LAUGH, BIG BROTHER.”

Galahad laughed harder.

Eleanor wiped her eyes. “Let him carry you.”

Percy sulked. “All my dignity is gone.”

Holar replied, “You thought the same thing when you died.”

Percy fell silent.

Holar's voice had not changed, but Percy looked at his face and saw that his eyes were still red.

He stopped protesting and rested his head against Holar's shoulder.

“Alright.”

Holar held him a little tighter.

Everyone entered the house when they arrived.

Everyone except one person.

Clara remained at the door.

Eleanor noticed after taking a few steps and turned around.

“Clara?”

Clara raised her head.

“I...”

She looked into the house, then toward the stairs where Percy had been carried.

“I'll wait here.”

Eleanor frowned. “Why?”

Clara did not answer.

She knew why.

Percy was awake. He was alive. He had spoken to her. He had called her his sweet little troublemaker.

But none of that fixed everything.

Walking into Percy's home as though nothing had happened was something Clara could not do.

“I'll wait here.”

Eleanor was about to speak when Percy's voice came from upstairs.

“Clara.”

Clara froze. The door to Percy's room was open.

“Don't wait there.”

She looked up.

“Come.”

One second.

“Let's talk.”

Clara climbed the stairs slowly. With every step, her heart beat a little faster.

Percy lay in bed. Holar and Galahad had left the room. Eleanor looked at Clara before closing the door behind her.

Then she left them alone.

Clara remained beside the door.

Percy looked at her. “We're not going to talk from there, are we?”

Clara took several steps and stopped beside the bed.

Percy looked at the ceiling. For a while, neither spoke.

At last, Percy began.

“You know...”

Clara looked at him.

“Big brother Galahad and I went to the camp.”

Her expression shifted slightly.

“The old camp. We talked about six months ago.” Percy kept staring at the ceiling. “Six months.”

A short laugh escaped him.

“It felt like an entire lifetime.”

Clara remained silent. Percy's smile disappeared.

“I heard about you.”

Clara stopped breathing.

Percy looked at her.

“That you hurt yourself.”

Clara lowered her eyes.

“Grandpa told me.”

Silence.

“At first...” Percy swallowed. “I thought I couldn't see you.”

Clara's eyes began to fill.

“Because I was furious. I was hurt. And if I saw you...” He thought for a moment. “...I didn't know what I would feel.”

Clara began to cry silently.

Percy continued.

“Then big brother Galahad...”

Come on. Let's return to the camp together.

Percy remembered the lake, the trees, and the person he had been six months earlier.

Clara.

Then Holar's voice.

Clara betrayed you.

You bought her a present.

She went and tried to kill herself.

Percy's eyes filled.

“I couldn't bear it.”

Clara raised her head.

Percy looked at her.

“I was coming to you, Clara.”

Her face collapsed completely.

“What?”

“I was coming.” Percy's voice broke. “I was going to leave the camp and come to you.”

Clara covered her mouth.

“Percy...”

“I wasn't ready. Maybe I'm still not. But...” Percy shook his head. “I couldn't leave you like that.”

Clara's tears came faster.

“I was coming to you.”

Clara took one step, then stopped, as though she did not know whether she had the right to approach him.

“I...”

No sound emerged. She tried again.

“Percy.”

Percy waited.

Clara wiped her eyes.

“Believe me... I wasn't even afraid of things falling apart between us.”

Percy raised an eyebrow slightly. Clara corrected herself at once.

“That's not what I meant. I was terrified. I was. But...”

She looked at her hands.

“I couldn't understand my own intentions. I wanted to be friends with Leon. That was all. Not because I felt anything for him. I never did.”

Percy's expression did not change.

“If you ask why I spent time with him...” Clara paused and sniffed. “There's a fly in my room that keeps bothering me. I spend time with that too.”

The corner of Percy's mouth moved.

“Don't laugh.”

“I'm not.”

“You are.”

“Continue.”

Despite herself, Clara gave a tiny laugh. Then her face grew serious again.

“I needed time to think. About what I wanted. Why I was uncomfortable. Why you were so angry. While I was asking for time to think...” Her voice broke. “...I didn't realize I was making you wait.”

Percy's eyes stayed fixed on her.

“One day. Two days. A week. Then a month.” Tears fell again. “And every day, you...”

“Today,” Percy said.

Clara's face crumpled. She nodded.

“Yes. Every day, you said today. And I kept leaving it for tomorrow.”

She closed her eyes.

“I'm sorry, Percy.”

He did not answer.

“Not for Leon. Not for the slap. Not for one single event.”

Percy watched her.

“For making you wait. For not telling you. For staying silent while you gave me chance after chance.” Clara drew a breath. “I'm sorry.”

A long silence followed.

Percy looked toward the other side of the bed.

Then he shifted over.

Clara did not understand.

Percy gestured toward the empty space beside him.

“Come.”

Clara blinked. “What?”

“Come.”

She sat on the edge of the bed.

“A little closer.”

Clara moved closer.

“Percy?”

“Turn around.”

Clara frowned. “Why?”

“Turn around.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Clara.”

She gave him a suspicious look, then turned her back.

Percy stared at her shoulder.

One second.

Two.

Then he bit her.

“AHHH!”

Clara sprang off the bed.

“PERCY!”

Percy released her and leaned back calmly.

“Now I forgive you.”

Clara stared at him with her mouth open.

“YOU BIT ME.”

“Yes.”

“YOU BIT MY SHOULDER.”

“Yes.”

“THAT HURT.”

Percy replied, “I died.”

Clara fell silent.

“I have a little credit.”

She stared at him for several seconds.

Then she began to laugh through her tears.

Percy laughed too.

Clara sat on the bed again.

“Psychopath.”

“Sweet little troublemaker.”

Clara looked at him.

This time Percy put an arm around her waist. Her eyes widened as he pulled her back against his chest.

Clara remained rigid for several seconds.

Then her entire body relaxed.

She rested her head against him. Percy buried his face in her hair and took a deep breath.

The same scent.

The same hair.

The same Clara.

He closed his eyes.

“I missed you.”

Fresh tears slid from Clara's eyes.

“I missed you too.”

Percy breathed in the scent of her hair.

“A lot.”

Clara placed her hand over his arm.

“I missed you more.”

“It's not a competition.”

“I won.”

“Clara.”

“What?”

“I'm the one who waited a month.”

Her face fell.

“Fine.”

Percy smiled.

Clara remained silent for a few seconds.

“Percy?”

“Hm?”

“I never wanted to hide anything from you.”

Percy opened his eyes.

“But from now on...” She tightened her grip on his arm. “...I won't hide anything. I promise.”

Percy did not answer immediately. Clara turned to look at him.

There was a small smile on his face.

“Should I believe you?”

Clara's expression did not change.

“You don't have to.”

Percy raised an eyebrow.

“I'll show you with what I do.”

Percy studied her for several seconds, then smiled.

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Alright.”

Clara smiled too.

For a while, they only looked at one another.

Then Percy raised his hand.

“What are you doing?” Clara asked.

Percy did not answer. His fingers moved toward her hair.

Clara watched him suspiciously.

“Percy.”

He grabbed it.

Her eyes widened.

“Percy, don't.”

“What?”

“DON'T.”

Percy pulled.

“AH!”

Clara immediately grabbed his cheek.

“AH!”

Percy did not release her hair. Clara did not release his cheek.

“LET GO.”

“YOU FIRST.”

“YOU'RE PULLING MY HAIR.”

“YOU'RE PINCHING MY CHEEK.”

“YOU DESERVED IT.”

“SO DID YOU.”

Clara grabbed Percy's wrist with her other hand. Percy tried to push her away with his foot. Clara shoved his leg aside.

Percy lost his balance. Clara leaned forward while trying to free her hair.

Together, they reached the edge of the bed.

One second.

“Clara.”

“What?”

“We're falling.”

Clara looked down.

“Oh.”

THUD!

They hit the floor together.

At that exact moment, the door opened.

Galahad stood in front. Behind him were Holar, Eleanor, Olsen, Wycliffe, Nathaniel, William, Arthur, Charlotte, Richard, and the others.

All of them had been about to enter.

All of them stopped.

On the floor, Percy held Clara's hair. Clara was pinching Percy's cheek. One of Percy's legs lay over Clara's, while Clara's other foot was planted against his stomach.

Neither had let go.

Silence.

Long.

Very long.

Nathaniel stopped chewing the food in his mouth. Arthur blinked. William adjusted his glasses. Charlotte covered her mouth. Eleanor's eyes filled again.

Galahad lowered his head. His shoulders began to shake.

Percy looked at him. “Big brother?”

Galahad burst out laughing.

Charlotte could not hold back either.

Then Nathaniel.

Arthur.

Richard.

Eleanor began laughing through her tears.

Olsen shook her head.

Holar Jun looked at his grandson on the floor.

A day and a half earlier, he had sat beside Percy's lifeless body.

Now Percy was on the floor, pulling a girl's hair while she pinched his cheek.

A small smile appeared on Holar's face.

Wycliffe closed his eyes and drew a deep breath.

“Yes.”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Wycliffe opened his eyes and looked at the pair on the floor.

“Now I'm certain.”

“Why?”

Wycliffe turned back toward the door.

“You really came back.”

Percy did not understand.

Clara did not understand.

But everyone else in the room did.

Because the proof that Percy Grant had returned was not the beating of his heart.

It was not the functioning of his Core.

It was not the Flame of the Chaos Fire Dragon.

It was not the voice of the universe.

“CLARA, LET GO OF MY HAIR.”

“YOU FIRST.”

“YOU'RE PULLING MY CHEEK.”

“YOU'RE PULLING MY HAIR.”

“BECAUSE YOU—”

“PERCY!”

Yes.

Percy Grant had truly returned.