Mark had a decision to make.

Should he take in Core as-is, accepting something that surely possessed spyware into his midst?

Should he trust the hospital staff and have this device factory reset, trusting for them to not install their own spyware?

The human stood in the center of the room contemplating his choices, the pale walls washed a shade of pale blue from the lights on the service drone’s body. The electrical arcs from one of the researchers gave the cramped confines a harsh, acrid smell.

He could also destroy the machine. He had given it a name and it possessed a face, but that did not mean he would refuse to give it up any more than he would toss away a rock with eyes glued onto it.

Mark could accept the machine and keep it contained elsewhere. Locked up or even shut down, he could simply learn to remove the battery when not in use leaving it powerless. He began pacing, walking back and forth, nearly tripping on wires.

Does it really matter? He wondered, Mark had been kidnapped and enslaved, then taken to a research facility and lied to for their tests.

Now he was here in a hospital that bluntly told him they meant the best, and while they were healing him, he had no proof they had good intentions. He definitely wasn’t allowed to leave; if he tried to walk out, they would just send him back to his bed claiming they were in quarantine.

Which could be true. Or it could not be true. Mark had no magical powers, but he had been told some species could figure out answers without evidence. Some guards could sense people breaking the law even if they could not see or hear them and people like that would have an easy time making decisions in his place.

What can I do? The same question floated through Mark’s head again and again. The researchers or the hospital. If I escaped to somewhere else, someone there will want to capture me, to use me without telling me the reason.

He knew one reason; demons are terrifying and he was the person who had driven one back where armed forces had failed.

That answer brought another question, one much more simple; If I am going to be used, how do I ensure proper treatment? How do I force others to do as I ask and not the other way around?

Long ago, back when he was on Earth, he had once been refused a raise. His response had been to-

“I will take Core as is.”

“Guy- Are you joking? We both know that there is malware on this thing, even if we can’t prove it-” The shrew behind a computer screen started before being cut off by Mark.

“I hope they can hear me. When you force me into something I do not like I will see if I can negotiate for a better contract.”

The shrew scrunched his face, before going slack and grunting back. “Hrnng… A liaison type deal? Alright then, it's weird to use a drone just to talk to someone though. Is a mobile phone too hard to understand for you? Because if they will send the drone, they will definitely send you a phone.”

The orc nudged the shrew, “They aren’t that primitive.”

The human nodded, “Yeah, we’ve had cell phones for over forty years now so it's not like humans are cavemen or anything.”

The shrew opened their mouth, then closed it without saying anything.

Similarly Han, Mark’s orc nurse maintained a very neutral face.

Mark flushed, glancing between the two before turning to the rest of the hospital staff who were also rendered speechless.

Other than one of the elves, who pulled out a small notepad and approached Mark. “Do you know the name of the historical figure who invented mobile phones?”

The human shook his head, and then decided to leave before they continued mocking him.

“Core, follow me.” He motioned as he turned out the door.

Mark walked out into the hallway, Zirrilit and Core followed even as he began walking the wrong way.

They paced in silence, Mark staring at the ground and deep in thought. He clearly wasn’t headed anywhere specific.

Zirrilit nuzzled the side of his head and he glanced up.

She tilted her head, “I don’t think you are primitive.”

“I am not.”

He turned his head upwards, staring at the ceiling and the lights on them before turning to take in the view from a nearby window.

From this angle he could barely make out the city on the main island, rolling waves and green hills providing a near-impassable barrier to him before you even mentioned the large metallic ship floating in the sky between him and the city.

There was some kind of airship there, seemingly ignoring gravity. It was a dull gray cylinder with small, flickering lights. It was positioned such that it only displayed its thinnest side to the hospital, and it was too far away to make out any more detail.

This species had spacecraft, magical healing powers, teleportation…

He ran through a list in his head and he tightened his fist.

“I think I might be primitive.” Mark admitted. “I am stupid. I am weak and I don’t know what I should be doing.”

Zirrilit tilted her head to the opposite side, “Nuh-uh. When the demon showed up people just agreed to walk into Hell because it told us to. Everyone believed it when it said we would be immortal, because it was technically true.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Mark turned slightly to face her.

She continued, “They don’t know how to stop demons, and don’t know about angels. That’s why they want you. You see them doing what they were made to do, but you aren’t doing what you are made to do and it makes you look weaker than them.”

“So then what should I do, Zirrilit?” Mark asked. “They are good at being smart, and they are good at dealing with me which is more important.”

She smiled, pulling her lips up into a feral toothy grin, “Auxiliaries. We go find more people who will join us, tell them we are in charge and then use them to figure out what we should do-”

Mark nodded, taking that same advice seriously for once.

“-and then” She continued, “if something really dangerous shows up we can make the auxiliaries fight them first and die to weaken it, so we can bring it down with minimal risk to ourselves.”

Mark sighed, “That’s really-” He tried to think of a nice way of putting it, an affront to his sensibilities and values? Actually referring to someone as cannon fodder was incredibly evil?

“Kind of a dick move.” He settled. “That tactic is a dick move.”

“It's how everyone does it. Generals don’t fight on the front lines.” Zirrilit reasoned. “Why do you think heroes always fight like a hundred million fights and no one is ever worried about them dying? They survive each fight by sending waves of their own men until there’s practically no risk to themselves because losing a hero is worse than losing a lot of low rank soldiers.”

“I’m not a hero or a general. I am a civilian.”

“No- you fight demons. That’s like a specialized unit minimum, and right now you are the only specialized unit like that. You need a guard rotation or something.”

Mark thought about it before answering, “Like private security. I need private security to keep me safe because I am a non-combatant.”

That made sense to Mark.

Zirrilit nodded more, happy to sway his opinion to her side.

She didn’t understand the difference between conscripting soldiers to send in first in high risk scenarios and paying private security to fight and die for you while you hid away, but she definitely wasn’t going to go into semantics after he agreed with her.

“So.” Zirrilit started, “We should go and talk to the cultists first-”

“The bastards who shot me?”

Mark paused, realizing his anger had leaked into his tone and Zirrilit waited for him to calm down.

“Well, only a couple of them attacked you directly. Many of them attacked each other or… Damaged themselves. I grabbed two people on the way out who got set on fire.”

“Jeez- how many died?”

Zirrilit shrugged, “We can find out! And visit some of them, follow me.”

Mark ended up dragged behind Zirrilit, her massive claw enveloping his arm.

“I don’t think I’m allowed to mix with them,” He objected, “Aren’t they volatile? Or they don’t know if I’m infected or something?”

“The really volatile ones are kept in the lockdown area, whereas we are going to General Holding. I’ve been there before while you were in physical therapy.”

“Okay- stop pulling me- who do you want to visit then? Are we just going door to door or something?”

She slowed but continued pulling him around a corner, in a direct path towards the elevators.

“Well,” Zirrilit trailed off for a moment, “First we should visit the people I grabbed, then we can try asking for a list of people from the nurses. It would be best if we could get a list of people with stats like power or speed or unique abilities-”

Mark objected, “-I do not think they will give us a list of everyone and their unique abilities and base stats.”

They entered an elevator and Zirrilit pressed the button for the fourth floor, then pressed the button for the second floor. Core sprinted the last few feet before the door closed on them.

“We have the time to do this the hard way, but we need someone with magic-scheming abilities and someone with magic-magic abilities. Maybe some magic-sneaky people or something, and people with detecting-magic-sneaky people powers too.”

Zirrilit began listing abilities on her claws that she wanted.

“Healers- for sure, uh… some people have the ability to direct lesser soldiers and increase their abilities… other than that we can just shop around-”

Mark was feeling less sure about this being a good idea by the second.

The elevator dinged as it opened, and the trio exited only for Zirrilit to turn around and kick the servant drone.

Mark saw its solid steel leg shatter into pieces with a loud crack as it tumbled backwards into the elevator.

The doors closed and Zirrilit stretched slightly.

“Zirrilit, what the fuck?” Mark stumbled back, surprised by the sudden violence.

She shrugged, “It’s a spy right? So I broke it and sent it to the second floor where the nurses have a break room. They will see it and fix it for us.”

“Can you warn me next time-”

“Sure thing!” She lied, “I will tell you the next time I am about to catch someone by surprise and mutilate them.”

“Look, you are way too good at sarcasm, but you really shouldn’t let me be caught by surprise when you decide to start something.”

Zirrilit nodded. “Okay, so we just go down here and then there is a reception desk where we can check in as a visitor. If you need to use the bathroom there is one near the reception desk, but we should hurry a bit so we can get through as many people as possible today.”

“What’s the rush?” Mark whined, “We have to run down here with you dragging me and talk about the plan like it's a secret after you kick Core back into the elevator, what’s going on?”

“Its just management Mark, it takes forever. We need to learn about everyone, decide on who to keep and who we don’t need, get back to them, have them display their abilities for us- So much to do and I don’t know when they will lift the quarantine.”

“Fine. Just make sure no one shoots me again. I’m going to be really pissed this time if I get shot again right as I’m almost better.” Mark grumbled.

They walked down the white halls, the everpresent acrid scent of cleaning products burning at their nostrils, the lack of color contrasted heavily by the rows of windows lining one side of the hall displaying the inner courtyard’s gardens. Until they came to a small desk the same color as everything else in this building manned by someone with blue skin.

Mark was unable to tell if it was male or female, though it did possess horns and long, darker blue hair.

“Visitors?” It asked before stating “sign in here please.”

Zirrilit scratched her name into the paper with a small pen before handing it to Mark who broadly scribbled his name down in cursive.

“Is this… a word? I cannot read this name, human.” The blue creature stated. “Is this your name?”

Mark paused for a moment wondering if he should tell the creature about signatures before deciding against a prolonged dialogue.

“Yes.” He answered, the big blob of letters scribbled down onto the paper was his name.

“You are not lying, yet I cannot read this name even though I should be able to translate written material?” They stared at him, expecting an answer.

Mark kept silent and stared back.

Eventually the receptionist gave up on waiting for an answer and waved Mark to the door on his right.

The receptionist palmed a small switch on the bottom of their desk.

Mark took in the new area he was now introduced to, noting the differences between general holding and the special ward he was assigned to and familiar with.

There were no differences, or at least none that he could see. The place held the same bleached color scheme as everywhere else and a mild chemical scent of cleaners. Doors lined either side of the hall labeled with a small numerical plate.

It seemed strange that they could just walk into this section of the hospital and it led Mark to wonder why there was a sign in procedure or locked door at all.

At least, it didn’t seem different from his section.

Zirrilit nodded. “Okay, so we should first try and recruit an easy one. I know one who I personally saved” she emphasized, “They got set on fire and if I didn’t grab them they would have died for sure. They weren’t looking good a couple days ago but they should be fine now.”

Mark nodded, that made a lot of sense. Start with someone you are on good terms with.

It made a lot of sense right until he walked into their room.

“Ah. You did say they were a burn victim, didn’t you?” Mark questioned with a clear monotone.

He sighted down, staring at a person wrapped in layers of cloth on a small bed. They did not have visible skin appearing more like a mummy with clear flexible tubes trailing from gaps within the wrappings over their face.

Mark on some level understood that when you received serious burns the problem was less the catastrophic damage to your body and more the dehydration and infection risk that was represented by the missing skin.

The smell of ointment reached his nose, carrying a thick, bitter herbal scent and he felt his mouth go dry. Mark swallowed and took in the small stains leaking over the bandages, some form of lotion that was ever so slightly purple mixed with a clear yellow fluid that seemed to trail down the stark white wrappings.

Zirrilit paused for a moment before asking, “So… uh… Do you think they’re awake? Should we ask them?”

“They look dead, how badly burned were they? Didn’t you say you met them a couple days ago?”

“Well yeah but I heard only all their skin got melted off, and some muscles, and their lungs got messed up from breathing in super heated air.”

“So why would we come in here to recruit them? They need our help, not the other way around!” Mark heard himself raising his voice and took a breath trying to control his emotions. Something about a passed out burn victim gave him a pit in his stomach.

Zirrilit winced, “I thought that skin and muscles and lungs would be like a two day thing at most. Skin doesn’t take that long to grow back does it?”

“It does if it all melts off-” Mark cut himself off, “I need to step into the hall.”

The door clicked open, he took two steps out clutching his stomach before being promptly tasered by hospital security.

He woke up shortly afterwards on the ground.