Kyle woke up slowly, his head foggy like he'd been hit by a truck—again. His eyes cracked open, and he squinted at the ceiling. No hospital tiles this time, just a very expensive roofing.
The air smelled like paper and coffee, not medicine. He was on a couch, a very soft one, with a thin blanket tossed over him. His body ached, but it wasn't the sharp, broken mess he remembered.
He shifted, groaning, and felt tight scars pull across his chest and arm.
"Awake, huh?" Katherine's voice cut through the haze.
He turned his head—ow, bad idea—and saw her sitting at her desk, scribbling on some papers.
"Yeah," he croaked, voice rough. "Where...?"
"My office," she said, not looking up. "Some Hunters found you outside the dungeon. Half-dead, covered in blood. They read your card, saw you are p
