Hope hesitated before placing the crescent ornament back on his left ear, the cool metal a contrast to the feverish heat from his wounds.

'Never thought I'd wear jewelry for a Memory…or ever that is…'

He then slowly lowered his body to sit down in the stark pool of light. Leaning forward, legs lazily spread out, he stared blankly forward as his mind focused on the pain in his wounds. The throbs and aches were again a great distraction from the voices—anything that would keep him from its threatening sea.

And…he waited.

How fast was this Memory going to work? Minutes? Hours?

Well, he had all night afterall.

Sleep was not going to ensnare him.

Bzzzzch…

At that moment, the magic hummed against his ear.

Hope hesitated but then sorely reached over and rolled back his dark sleeves up to his elbows. The sticky sound of cloth peeling off flesh wetly murmured into the air as the wounds were revealed under the moonlight like black ripped holes. The claw marks on his right forearm down to his wrist from the Profaned were there as well.

Hope blinked nonchalantly, his fingers shakily flexing and unflexing into fists.

And then inside of him grew another presence.

A warmth blossomed into a healing force and invisibly wrapped around his body.

Slowly but surely, the pain dulled, the sharpness of his injuries fading into the background. The deep aches and strains and whatever unfound bruises on himself melted away.

The grazed bullet wound on his side was the first open wound to heal. Like a lip, it slowly closed its ripped mouth and sealed itself, refrained from speaking anymore of its bitterness.

Then the clawed marks on his right followed. As if time had reversed, it closed, undoing the damage left brutally behind—the jagged gashes smoothed out leaving faint, silvery scars instead. Finally, the punctured wounds started to heal, the flesh knitting together as though the hound's teeth had never pierced his skin. Except for maybe the also faded white marks.

And what feverish heat he had felt before was now washed away, feeling more aware of night's coldness against his skin. Though his sleeves were hardened and his skin stained from his blood, the wounds were no more. Even his tongue he had bitten down so many times before was fine.

'This is…fortunate…?'

The scars may have replaced them. But that wasn't an issue for Hope. Scars were scars.

"Hm…" Hope let out a thoughtful hum as he tilted his head.

Six minutes it took for the pearls to charge. He also noticed that in the order his wounds healed, it had likely been due to the fact of what kind of enemy caused it. Although the demon hound and the damn Awakened had thrown him around, there was no specific magic traced in those impacts. So those went away first. But the claws from the dormant Profaned and the bite from the Awakened Demon had varied healing rates.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

The grazed bullet wound happened to be a normal bullet instead of the special manufactured one. At least now he knew some of those Sector Two people did carry Brave Arm guns as well…

That was another question for another day.

Or. Never.

But anyways, if he were to be attacked by something higher than an Awakened Demon, the healing rate would certainly be slow.

Hopefully not impossible either.

'And it only works at night.' Or just charged at night?

"..."

He will figure it out as he goes.

'Huh. Well then.'

Hope dismissed the memory as he stood up. Rolling his shoulders, a slight tension coiled tight inside them.

It wasn't necessarily pain or an injury that the magic had missed. He just had not stretched in a long while. And a stretch wasn't a bad idea at the moment.

He lifted his arms above his head, interlocking his fingers as he stretched towards the sky under the broken hole. The stretch pulled at the knots in his muscles, a slow burn that made him let out a small sigh. He arched his back as well. He elongated his spine as a rhythm of satisfying pops trailed down.

Now he could probably fight better.

Although preferably with a long-range weapon. Not a shield.

But he got what he got.

Hope reached up and pulled himself up through the gaping hole in the roof, his muscles moving with ease this time.

A draft of cold wind blew in his face and hair once he entered into the open air. In his peripheral, some shadowed buildings loomed a few stories taller.

Brushing the dust from his hands, Hope scanned around.

The night was quiet, save for the distant Nightmare Creatures and whispers of the wind threading through the remains of the city.

Somewhere behind him down the block behind other buildings that shielded his view was where he knew the glass dome was. The memory of the Awakened chasing him automatically played in his mind but he ignored it. Because he had also remembered back in the glass dome when Master Leda pointed out the window, tall black shadows like drawn inked lines could be seen at that time.

And right now, they were slightly closer.

The building he was on wasn't quite tall—two and a half stories it was—but he could see the peaks of tall dark broken skyscrapers over other rooftops. A couple that leaned their heads against each other.

When Hope walked towards the edge of the roof and peered down the street, he could see the vines webbed across walls and windows like power chords. And there was the usual plentiful feathered grass in asphalt and long-necked leaves up pipes and ledges, thickening further down each building.

At least this was a sign he was reaching somewhat closer to the city's center.

And the further out he peered over down the street was just the endless rows of broken buildings, stretching on into the darkness of the night.

"..."

Hope recalled the rough drawn map back at the glass dome, how Master Leda's finger traced down the paper into the marked open terrain. The memory of course filmed across his eyes. The city was drawn in an awkward rectangular shape lengthening north and south. But strangely enough, the city's center wasn't…actually in the center as he thought…

Huh. Was it the city's centre or the city's center? Was there a difference?

Hope shrugged. 'They sound the same to me.'

But on the map, he found it marked closer towards the southern part of the city. That would make sense as to why it was still so far.

Hope folded his arms and nonchalantly tapped with his finger as he stared absentmindedly into the distance.

His next objective…was to find this outcast Awakened.

That Kurt guy mentioned: Paranoid, higher ground, sets up traps.

How the hell was he going to find that guy in the city?

Hope looked up at the night sky.

He supposed that was a question he could answer…

...till sunrise came.

Which was hours away. So, what should he do by then?

"Tsk."

Hope clicked his tongue in annoyance as he summoned his shield, looking down as the metal plate began gleaming under the moon.

He supposed he could adapt to this Memory. Properly train and see to its full potential. Because he had all night afterall.