The raiders' numbers finally began dwindling after many hours of chaos. Remaining pirates fled on any emergency rowboats and the remaining were mercilessly executed. Reinforcements from the Grand Navy had finally come and salvaged who and what they could. Casualty Units were sent to count the dead or messing. Fleet Commander Drusilla ordered in her surveying squad,

"Sniff out any remaining opposition. Slay on sight, no exceptions. If you see any of our own, recover them," and out the squad went.

Wind roaming freely than one could dream blew against the commander's white hair. It flapped her glistening violet pirate commander cloak as she observed the mess of Vitality. Sharks began to gather around the island and searched for what they could ravage in the red soup of limbs. Drusilla rested her arms along the railing of the ship and dropped her head in grief, pounding the ship with her free arm.

"They don't hear us," she uttered fragilely"I told them…"

"I know," said another, "I know.

Drusilla looked beside her at the short, black-haired man.

"You'd think they'd at least value what they consider to be amongst their 'best, Strider! Did they think it was flattery to send a measly fifty-two!"

"It was... far from good sense, to say the absolute least," Captain Strider asserted, "We have taken a massive blow here, there's no nicer way to put it: arrogance, greed, whichever or both of it the two, it killed many of those amongst our best. All we can do is hope."

The Survey Squad returned at last, bringing undesirable news, "We identified forty-three of our own dead, six in critical condition, and one we haven't found."

Commander Drusilla sterned up herself and disappointment grabbed her skull, nodding her head at the egregious report. With a deep inhale and a quick release, Drusilla uttered clearly: "Go forward and guide the Medical Units to the injured. For anyone who isn't torn apart, have the Medicals properly inspect them," and she turned her back to them.

A white shine dissipated into nothingness and Jawn fell back against the wall, panting like an exhausted animal. The white glow soon faded from his hands as he tried collecting his breath. "Two more… what in the hell…" the Medical Unit rushed into Central. Jawn eyed them intensely, "... is taking so long!"

The medics jumped to action, taking out their supplies from cases for the remaining injured. One of the four medics turned to Jawn. "Medic Kull here. you heal those four over there?"

"No, only three. I had to be primitive with Dred; I only used a bit of liquor l on his wounds and covered it in some old cloth. You should get to him quickly."

"Think you can utilize Life one more time?"

Jawn tried to look angry, but could only muster words. "Yeah, definitely. After taking a bit from my own lifetime reservoir to heal three other people to stable health, I can definitely spend some more despite not even being able to stand."

The medic turned to join the others in aiding the two remaining soldiers: Yuri and Balton. They crushed a ghastly fruit into a bowl and let a droplet of red liquid fall into the mix, turning it green. They carefully poured the concoction evenly into four flasks and twirled them; two bottles for each soldier. The medics raised limbs and shifted the body to get the mixture all across, and the other flask of liquid was aided down their throats. Their wounds bubbled and boiled a yellowish-brown before bursting into a mess. The flurry of foul liquid eventually drained, leaving behind revealing a clean, seemingly new body. Yuri was first to awaken from her pain and infection-induced unconsciousness. Her first words at this revelation: “Am I not eternally in pieces?”

Balton shot up and took a breath so deep one would have thought the sea overwhelmed him. His eyes jumped around the room, scanning for something to bring him memory. He looked down to his arm being held by one of the Medical Unit and sized them up. Balton ripped his arm free from their grasp and sprung onto his legs. He stumbled and fell back to the ground to pain shooting in his left leg. “What da hell y’all do to me?! I told y’all don’t touch me for nothin’! I ain’t ya granny!” Balton shouted as he grabbed his leg agony.

Jawn turned red with rage and threw a plank at Balton with what little strength he had left, striking the wall just behind him. The Bullet swung attention to the collapsed Jawn, eyes widened with anger.

“You grow balls for da first time in ya life, boy!?” Balton roared, almost causing the ceiling to collapse with his Pull, “You don’t know how to choose ya damn battles!”

Jawn clenched a fist. “Y-you’re serious right now?”

“You think I’m gon’ praise these lowlives who waited ‘til the shit was over with to act as if they here to help?! You hit yo yella head, boy?!”

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“What’s wrong with you, dumbass?! We’re getting aid after getting dragged through hell yet you’re still hung up on protecting your little image! You’re just proving yourself to be an insecure little bastard and you think that makes you look tough? Don’t make me laugh! You’re easily screwed just like the rest of us. You should be kissing their feet! I’m too drained to use anymore of my Life right now. If they didn’t come here you’d be on your way to a grave like most of us! Get off that damn horse, it’s skinny and frail.”

Balton’s heart raced with rage, but he couldn’t keep his angry constant. Fury quickly died out and he scanned the room. He located his target, resting in the corner on a worn and torn mattress. He uplifted the baby after winning the battle against his stubborn leg. “Didn’t y’all use that mess on me? Why’s my leg still funky?”

“Your leg wound was too deep, must’ve gotten hit by a blade,” Kull informed, packing his case, “No potion is healing that all the way. The most it did was assure it wouldn’t be infected and healed the wound the best it could. Not sure if Jawn even could do anything about it - he isn’t advanced enough with Life to heal others substantially… at least not many.”

“You implying that I’m done fightin’?” Balton lamented, locking down tears that thought they’d see light.

“Not particularly. There is a chance - a very slim one - for your leg to return to its functioning state. If you can find someone with Sacrifice who’s willing to give up some years so that you may walk properly again or a master of Life, then it is possible.”

Balton gawked in bemuse. “Sacrifice? You pullin’ my leg?”

“Well… No, pulling your leg would probably not help you… at all. But yes, Sacrifice is very rare. I think there’s only one person with it in the Headquarters, but I have high doubts that they’ll spend some of their own years simply to heal a leg…”

Balton shook his head. “Just get me outta here. Where’s Zaltanya? She back at y’alls ship?”

“The Berserker Blood? No, we didn’t see her there. The Survey Squad did say one was missin-”

“One! Whatcha mean only one?! How many did we lose?”

“Forty… three… according to the Survey Squad…” Kull responded hesitantly, "It's possible that some are still breathing, but unlikely."

"Zaltanya? Where she at?"

"Most likely amongst the majority."

"No, nah," Balton shook, "nah that ain't true. You saying Zaltanya could fall to some water dogs? I ain't believing that."

"Well, there's a possibility she is alive," Kull spoke in an attempt to comfort, causing Jawn to glare at him as if an idiot as he struggled to stand, "we should check her quick-"

A stinging slap hit the back of Kull's head. "What the hell are you talking about? Don't tell him a damn lie; she's probably dead! Are you trying to break him?"

Jawn fell back down to a seated position, "we've been through a war and you think words are all that helpful. Balton, if she ain't here, she's probably gone - and she isn't the only one. Be grateful that you have more days to continue being an asshole."

Balton wanted to strike a retort, but instead hopelessness put an immense amount of weight on him. For the first time in all of his years, liquid grief poured from his eyes. The medics began packing their instruments and exiting the old shack for unlikely survivors, leaving the two soldiers behind. Jawn simply stayed there for a moment, watching as Balton bawled, until he finally pushed himself up to stable legs and stretched. “So, are we just going to act like that baby has always been here?”

Balton's grieving came to an abrupt end. "Yo' mama slam you on the noggin with the dumbass brick? Really no clue, huh?"

"Oh I do, don't worry," Jawn smirked, "It's just the first time I've ever seen you 'carry yo self like a pansy.' I was hoping that would've meant something in you changed. Nope, you're still an ass. I guess I should've known that you can't teach an old dog new tricks."

"That doesn't make sense, fool… Are ya bein' dumb on purpose?"

"Who knows?" Jawn responded with a vanishing smirk as put a foot outside, "But what I do know is that you can barely handle the minor incompetence of someone who fought alongside you. If you can't even tolerate people under those circumstances, better mean that damn baby is more important than the world in your eyes." Jawn completed his exit and took a deep, heavy breath.

The Survey Squad soon returned with confirmation of the lost one. They identified someone hiding out in the forest around the Jakos pool after the chaos, but their name was unspoken of before the surviving soldiers were set to sail to a Grand Navy medical station for closer examination. Balton picked his son up from the shabby old bed and stepped outside for air, but he refused to leave until he could see the person to fulfill his hope, despite the Survey Squad suggesting what they believed to be best before heading to Jakos. The other soldiers understandably wasted no time boarding the ship, except Jawn. The last two soldiers eyed the Survey Squad escorting someone along the shoreline.

Zaltanya definitely isn’t there… Jawn thought, We would’ve seen her towering above them.

Balton’s free fist clenched and vibrated with rising anger, but at the sight of a familiar unkempt hair designed by a dirt-unbothered person sent him into a fury. The Bullet pushed the baby onto Jawn and shot in the escorted one's direction by using Wind to drive his unyielding rage. Balton's bad leg bled as he charged, but blind fury numbed the pain.

"Move!" Jawn shouted as loudly as his lungs allowed, "Get out the way, nothing's stopping that now!"

The squad ignored his safer alternative and walled them.

"Balton, you could be labeled a treasonist! It isn't worth it!' One shouted, but that did not slow the Bullet even a bit. Balton swiped his arm and a powerful gust of Wind pulled the squad out of the victim's way. He fired his pulled back fist with great gust, causing an ear-shattering boom into the terrified face of Naitol. He was sent flying hundreds of feet across sea and left behind a short shower of red. A small rescue boat was dropped from the commander's frigate and skidded on the waves hastily. Balton fell to his leg's screaming pain, but he fell with satisfaction.

The Survey Squad scrambled to get back up. "You have struck a soldier lethally! Do you know the jeopardy you have put yours-"

"I got rid of a coward. A no-good nothin'! A pile'o trash! A roach that scurried off when the pot got too hot! You got the audacity to scold me for ripping out a tumor? To hell with the lot of ya!"

Blowing winds filled the silence and the rescue boat returned to the ship with the obliterated body. Balton inhaled a deep breath. "I ain't askin' for no praise. I'm done, get my boy outta here and let me know when Zaltanya can come home."

"We already counted her amongst the dead, Balton," a Surveyor drilled, "She isn't here anymore. I get it, letting go of someone you held dearly seems impossible, but holding on is only going to make you ill."

"You should listen to them, Balt," Jawn barged, carrying the child.

"You have someone else here that you're obligated to. You're just going to mentally wear yourself out hanging on to her," Jawn gave the baby back to his father and continued, "Go back to your home and don't dare to look back."