The next morning, the family doctor arrived looking as confident as ever — until he actually started checking me. His face shifted from concern to confusion, and finally to existential dread.
Doctor: "…This doesn't add up."
I was sitting up in bed now, perfectly fine. The bruises were gone, my pulse steady, even my skin had regained color. He tried again, more meticulously this time, before pulling out a diagnostic injection meant to analyze core activity.
Shane: "You sure that thing still works?" I asked, raising a brow.
He didn't answer.
Instead, in a moment of complete defeat, he injected himself.
The silence that followed was too much. I chuckled. Even Noah cracked a smile.
Doctor: "Okay," the doctor muttered. "It's working. Which means this—" he gestured at me wildly, "—should not be happening."
He took a few steps back, ran the tests again, then finally admitted:
Doctor: "Physically, Shane is completely fine. Better than fine. There's nothing medically wrong with him. Frankly, I've never seen someone recover this quickly from internal backlash."
Noah gave me a sidelong glance, but didn't speak. I stayed quiet too. After all, explaining the truth would just give the man an aneurysm.
What he didn't understand — what no one could have guessed — was the technique I was using.
The Trilok Ascension Technique. A lost method theorized around three layers of circulation — aura, mana, and kai — using not separate vessels, but the same energy circuit.
Most believed it was impossible. They weren't wrong. But they also weren't seeing in three dimensions.
See, aura and mana don't just flow — they revolve.
Not like gears spinning in opposite directions, but like planets orbiting the same star in opposing axial inclinations. In 2D, their paths would overlap — chaotic, unstable. But in 3D, their orbits diverge, forming harmonic revolutions in shared space without collision.
Aura revolved clockwise, hugging the inner core line. Mana revolved counterclockwise, looping along a polar arc. And Kai — free from any structured revolution — flowed like a solar wind, gliding between and stabilizing both.
It didn't require its own circulation path. It just needed intent — and presence.
That's what accelerated my healing. That's what let me survive. And now, as an Initiate, my base recovery had already doubled.
This wasn't just recovery.
It was the beginning of synchronization.
That evening, I requested an audience with Julianne.
I was allowed in a few minutes later. Her golden hair and icy blue eyes — the mark of royal blood — gleamed under the soft lamplight.
Itsuki: 'She's seriously beautiful, bro. With those looks, she'd be a superstar in my old world.'
I've learned to ignore his commentary.
Shane: "Good evening, Mother."
Julianne: "It's rare for you to visit. What brings you here?"
Shane: "Why did you try to save me?"
Her smile faltered.
She straightened up, elegance hardening into something sharp. For the first time, her presence felt... intimidating.
Julianne: "Interesting. Did you awaken your memories, Itsuki?"
Shane: "What?"
Itsuki: 'What?! Wait a second. How does she know my name? No — wrong question. Why does she think you're me? THINK. What are the possibilities? You stall her. I'll run some mental gymnastics.'
Thoughts move faster than words. Our conversation barely took a second.
Shane: "How do you know that name?"
Itsuki: 'Okay. I've got two theories. One: she has some clairvoyant ability and saw a future where I fully merged with you. Two: she's a reincarnator — like me — and she read the novel version of this world.'
Julianne: "…Reincarnated into a novel I once read."
My jaw dropped — not because she was reincarnated.
But because Itsuki guessed it right in two seconds.
Itsuki: 'Told ya. When I was reincarnating, I asked God if others like me existed. He said yes. I just didn't expect one of them to be your stepmom. I vaguely remember the name from a dating sim novel I skipped — not my thing — but it had my name in it, which stuck. My first guess was Prophet, but the Crown wouldn't let a prophet go rogue. So… option two it is.'
So reincarnated people were real. And close.
Too close.
Julianne: "Reincarnators aren't common, no. I came here because I wanted to stan my favorite lead."
Shane: 'Stan?'
Itsuki: 'Support. Hardcore. Usually not romantic. But we might want to double check.'
Shane: "A question, Mother?"
She frowned at the word 'Mother', but didn't object.
Julianne: "Ask."
Shane: "Not romantically… right?"
Julianne: "…"
Shane: "…"