I left the hospital with my mask tucked safely inside my bag.
There were still some reporters outside, lingering like vultures waiting for something to happen. If I walked out as Mr. Angel, I'd be swallowed whole by their questions and flashing cameras.
So, I left as just Reynard.
No mask. No spectacle. No reason for anyone to look at me twice.
The hospital doors slid open, and the cool afternoon air wrapped around me. It felt strange.
Familiar, yet foreign.
I took my first unmonitored steps into the world, free from the weight of an exosuit, free from Alexis' brutal training, free from the suffocating sterility of the hospital.
Each step felt solid. Controlled. Effortless.
The past month had been pure hell, but Alexis' methods had worked. My body had readjusted, rebuilt itself, strengthened in ways I hadn't even noticed until now.
I took a slow breath, walking home without difficulty.
