Zayn sighed as he reached his room, the door clicking shut behind him with a gentle thunk.
The comfort of being home after a dungeon raid was something you couldn't put a price on — well, unless you factored in the actual reward from the dungeon, which was enough to keep them swimming in stew for weeks.
Maybe months, if he and Bran stopped triple-plating.
Which would never happen!
He shrugged off his light armor and stretched, rolling his shoulders with a satisfying crack before flopping onto his bed face-first.
The mattress squeaked in protest.
He stayed like that for a solid minute, letting his muscles slowly melt into the fabric.
It was peaceful. Quiet. A little sweaty, sure, but he was home.
Alive.
That was what mattered.
And then he remembered.
"Oh right," he mumbled into the pillow. "I have a new ability. And I haven't broken anything with it yet."
