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The Pizza Party [Post-Apoc Sci-Fi Superhumans]
Arc 1 Chapter 6 - The Other Doctor

Arc 1 Chapter 6 - The Other Doctor

Chapter 6 - The Other Doctor

That morning was a rough one for both Pouria and Vevlan.

The guy that Vevlan spoke of worked at a clinic about a mile across town in a middle class area.

Pouria stared around as they walked through the crowded early morning streets past shops bustling with customers. Each of the retail stores was packed to the brim with chaotic masses of people, pushing past each other to purchase products off the shelves. The stench of sweat and body odor wafted, the sound of arguments and crying children filled the hot air, the cold of the rain a distant memory. The atmosphere had ruined any good mood Pouria could have possibly obtained after getting no sleep and a couple holes in his chest.

Above most stores hung banners advertising 'Sale Surge Weekend!' in bold and all capitals. The event seemed to apply to every single retail store in the area, and Pouria knew the holiday well, even if calling it a holiday was a massive stretch of the word.

The people proved to be a difficult obstacle, blocking off the sidewalks with their desperation for deals leaving them all uncaring for other human life, including Pouria's. Despite him literally bleeding out of the chest and nearly passing out multiple times, nobody seemed to even give him a glance. As they passed some, they even shoved him without even making eye contact. A rich, fervent anger befell Pouria, one that only a lack of sleep and a painful wound could stoke.

The pair approached a crosswalk, and on the other side was a white, modern building, nestled on the corner of the street. It looked like it had been built recently, the glossy finish of paint looked far sharper than the apartment building above it.

"Part of me doesn't want society to continue if people like that exist.” Pouria sighed.

As they arrived on the curb, Vevlan stopped, turned, and gave him a look that Pouria didn’t really understand. One of understanding, and yet it felt so dismissive to him. “Well,” Vevlan began. “I can understand your anger. But on the other hand, those are your citizens. I’m pissed with ‘em too, but you are here to save them, am I right?”

“Eh, I’m not really here for ‘John, Mark, and Paul’. I’m here for the people in general.” Pouria explained with a matter of fact tone.

Vevlan shook his head. “What is that even supposed to mean?” he said with a sharp-tongued reply.

“I am back because I made a mess, and the people of this city were affected. I am just cleaning it up.” Pouria said. He couldn’t help but feel antagonized by Vevlan’s tone. The clinic was right in front of them, and yet he wanted to make such a big deal over a small comment? It didn’t make sense to him.

“If you are fighting for the people, the downtrodden and the fallen, people like me, you have to have some respect for the individuals.” Vevlan explained, his voice only sounding critical to Pouria’s ears.

“Last I checked you were working alongside a legendary scientist, hanging out with a top member of Blueberry Corp, and were once business partners with one of the richest women in the city.” Pouria said. “It doesn’t sound like you are downtrodden at all.”

Rarely did Pouria speak after thought. He didn’t like to think much while he was in office, thinking only reminded him of his failures as he drowned deeper into his shame and sorrow. But after he was exiled, he had a lot of time on his hands, and not much to fill it with. It was partially thinking about his own survival in the harshest environment known to man, barring space, but when he wasn’t doing thinking about survival, his mind ran rampant. All the dark thoughts he’d repressed jumped back out, and he finally was able to battle them. It was tough at first, but now he felt stupid for ignoring them.

Even with all of that, he still found himself bad at conversation with strangers, and would often receive looks of disdain and often threats and acts of violence following some of his more headless remarks. Now was one of those times, but despite it, Vevlan did remain rather calm.

He blinked once or twice, his mouth moving in such a way that Pouria thought he was about to shout or even just say something, but it took an awkward while for any words to come out.

“You don’t know the full story.” Vevlan said weakly, the words hanging in the air for a moment before he continued. “Do you want to see my friend or not?”

Pouria realized his mistake before Vevlan even spoke, but he didn’t really know what to say until after he did. “Sorry, you’re right. I shouldn’t insult my savior.”

A small smile went across Vevlan’s face. “I am just happy to have someone decent enough to be honest with me for a change. I forgive you this time.” he said, the weak smile quickly fading right after as he glared directly into Pouria’s eyes. “Just don’t assume shit about me next time, okay?”

“Alright.” Pouria said nervously. Something about Vevlan now felt strange to him, like the man had something big to hide. He’d already witnessed and remembered well his attitude as a sore loser and something of a leech toward his friends. But as he got to know him better, he felt as though that attitude stemmed from something different and deeper than just general bad manners.

It felt off in some way to Pouria, and he wanted to know if he could trust him as an ally. Something was telling him that he couldn’t.

They approached the glass double doors of the entrance. Above them hung a cartoonish sign that read in bold, flowery letters ‘Happy Smiles: Private Clinic’, alongside it was a smiling emoticon with glistening teeth flanked by a smiling doctor’s face. It felt both comforting and disconcerting to Pouria, who saw it as a little unprofessional, but if this person was trustworthy, he couldn’t be picky.

Inside was a lot of soft, easygoing tones of white, light brown, and splashes of green from potted plants and furniture accents. Medical posters about hygiene, safety, and emergency numbers lined one wall near to something of a reception desk at the back of the lobby, unmanned and empty currently like the rest of the room, the door beside it left open. Peering inside, Pouria saw a hallway extending back into two or three doors to offices presumably containing different doctors. While the building looked new, sleek, and high class, it didn’t seem like it had many workers, nor did it have a lot of customers.

Vevlan let himself in, walking straight past the reception desk without a care, ushering Pouria to follow him into the open doorway. They walked into the empty hallway and up to a door marked with the name ‘Dr. Ibmoz - General Medicine’. Without a moment of hesitation, Vevlan knocked, and promptly, they were met with the kindly face of a short and cheerful man in a buttoned up medical coat. He seemed to be staring happily at them, but Pouria could barely see his eyes behind his mop of hair, like a ruffly rag was placed over his face.

“Oh my! What a lovely surprise this is!” presumably Dr. Ibmoz said. The first thing Pouria noticed about him was his right eye, missing and replaced with a glowing red counterpart made of steel and circuitry. It scanned him up and down, inspecting each inch of his wounded, dirty body. It brought some embarrassment and shame to Pouria to be seen like this, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Osefin. It is nice to see you again.” Vevlan said. From the way he spoke, Pouria got the sense these two were good friends, though they didn’t seem to see each other much.

“Come, skip the pleasantries, your friend needs my help.” Osefin said, ushering them both into the office with a warm but hurried tone. Pouria certainly appreciated the expedience.

The wounded mayor sat down on the medical table, covered in a crinkly paper sheet, making a noise Pouria knew all too well from his many doctor’s checkups he attended as the important leader of SFM. Just like now, his health was of the utmost importance to the survival of the city.

“Please remove your shirt so I may see the wound.” Osefin requested. “If it isn’t too painful.”

Pouria shook his head, removing his black overcoat and the t-shirt underneath, both with an unfortunate hole right in the center. Underneath was a slow drool of blood from four holes across the skin on his chest. The blood had mostly hardened across his torso, but was still actively leaving through the puncture points. Pain returned to Pouria as he laid his eyes upon it, kept dormant only by his strength of will.

Immediately, Osefin got to work inspecting it. His robotic eye scanned up and down across the wound. “Hmm, yes, you are quite lucky that this only went surface level. Any deeper and it could have hit your lungs, or your heart, godforbid.”

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Pouria remained speechless as he stared at the wound. He knew his recklessness nearly got him killed, and he didn’t care, but he did care that it was a signifier of his poor planning. Had he remained calm and patient, he would have found another way to get to speak with Vevlan. He wouldn’t have revealed himself to Al, to Blueberry Corp, and probably to the whole city. His mistake hurt, both internally and externally, mentally and physically.

Osefin looked at Vevlan, seeming to wait for some form of explanation, but none came, just a shrug. The doctor seemed to find it better not to ask and lay Pouria down across the bed and began to operate on the wound.

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The inviting warmth of the radiator brought Pouria closer as he held out his shaking hands to it. The refreshing heat of the blanket wrapped around his shoulders combined with the steady burn of the white metal heater built into the wall took all the chill of the rain out of him.

The drab and dusty break room was empty, Pouria was alone, but he was content with himself. After so long alone in the Wastelands, being in this room without a single other voice in his head reminded him of his peace while he was outside of the city.

The Wastelands were hostile to newcomers of course, many men and women died if they weren’t smart, but Pouria survived. He was proud of his time there, he had lived all alone, he had fed himself, found places to stay and scavenge, he had patched his own wounds. He’d never done anything like that since he’d left his home following his kidnapping. Back then, he thought the Wastelands to be a dangerous place, but he now knew that the city was equally worse, and nobody was doing anything about it. He’d never been attacked by the massive gangs of vandals who prowled the sands, though he had heard stories of them, and those stories kept him awake at night. He barely saw any other people out there, and when he did, rarely were they violent.

While in the city for just twelve hours, he had been kidnapped, attacked, and had to sleep in the garbage. His wound was too severe to even fix himself, if he had sustained something similar in the Wastelands, his body would have been food for the vultures within the week.

He looked at the wound with a scowl. It was weakness, the same poor decision making that led to his banishment. He had to fix the city, but first, he needed to fix himself. He needed to become stronger, smarter, and more numerous than the enemy; for that to happen, he needed to train, study, and find any allies that he could. He had yet to find any that he could trust, and while Vevlan had proven helpful, he still couldn’t fully trust him.

Beyond that was The Dustman, which… he never trusted him in the first place. And then Kaino and Penove. The former was locked up and maybe insane, the latter was clearly not interested in anything to do with his former boss. There were others, sure, but those two were who Pouria needed.

The door opened behind Pouria, he swiveled his body as he winced in pain.

“I thought you may want some company,” Dr. Ibmoz said, smiling softly. “Mr. Mayor.”

“Oh…” Pouria said with slight confusion. “You know?”

“A face like yours? I can remember it well.” he said, shutting the door behind him and sitting down beside Pouria.

“Why would you help me?” Pouria asked. “If you knew me from the start, was it just because of Vevlan?”

“I’ve only met Vevlan a handful of times. I respect him, but I don’t deal in favors. I help whoever I can, however I can. It’s the Healer’s Oath.” Osefin explained in a calm and collected voice. “I’ve helped everyone from children to mafiosos, nobody should suffer their injuries.

“So, you don’t watch the news?” Pouria asked again. “It’s stupid to mention, but my public opinion was awful back then. I don’t know if it changed, but I doubt it.”

“I’ve never really cared, because I know what they say isn’t true. Life is too short for that. No, I’d rather make my own distinctions about the world. I believed in your campaign from the start, and I still do.” the doctor explained. “Mr. Strickmor told me that you’ve returned to unite the people against the government.”

“Something like that. I've wanted to try and fix the city ever since I was young, but after all was said and done, I only made the issues worse as mayor. Now, I just want to stop the city from devolving into anarchy.” Pouria told Osefin. He couldn’t help but feel like his fight now was just another mistake.

“That’s very honorable!” Osefin replied with a beaming smile across his face. “Why don’t you sound excited about it?”

“There’s no way it’s going to work.” Pouria replied with a heavy sigh of acceptance. “I’ve failed at every turn so far.”

“So? You’re still alive, and that means you can learn from your failures!” Osefin rebuked. Pouria had a strange feeling about him. His words sounded so genuine, Pouria had never met someone so upbeat and carefree.

“I’ve just learnt that I fucked up the city harder than I thought.” Pouria replied, really testing if this man’s positivity was real.

“I think you have a lot of remorse and anger. But it isn’t unwarranted. Believe me, I’ve been there before.” Osefin said. “While I wasn’t the mayor, with my past experiences I can understand how painful it would be to have the guilt of dooming humanity on your shoulders. It never served me well to hang onto the past.”

“You couldn't know the half of it if you didn’t watch the news.” Pouria said, distantly looking at his hands, his wound, the radiator, the wall, anywhere that wasn’t Osefin.

“True. But I want you to know that you aren’t alone in this. Despite what you may think, there are many that hear your desire and would gladly rally behind you to achieve it even after all your unwarranted drama, myself included.”

Pouria paused for a moment, now looking Osefin dead on. “Wait, you’d fight for me?” he asked, unsure of how else to even ask.

“I don’t believe in violence, but I can assist you in other ways.” Osefin said to him reassuringly.

“I would appreciate that very much, Osefin.” Pouria replied. A small hope began to grow within him, but he knew the kindness of one doctor would hardly help much in taking down the rulers of Soulflare Metropolis. However, it was a start. A good start.

“I know how I can help. You need information on the gang that has taken over the asylum, don’t you?”

“Vevlan told you, huh?” Pouria asked, getting a nod from the doctor. “Yeah, my friend is inside. He isn’t crazy,” Pouria lied, knowing that the doctor may be dissuaded if he heard his friend’s true state. “But he’s trapped in there with the gang. I have no clue how to get him out.”

“Well, there’s good news and bad news. I know the warden who runs the asylum, but he hasn’t been heard from since the takeover.” Osefin explained. “I hope he’s alright, he was a good, positive soul.”

“What prompted the takeover? Was it to get him out of power or something?”

“I think it was so that the gang could claim territory… but I think it was so that they could break someone out.” Osefin said. “I bet it was their leader, because they quickly became much more active after the attacks.”

“Who is their leader?” Pouria asked. “Do you know?”

“I don’t know for sure, but the gang who took it over, they are called The Stormcloud. Do you know them?”

Pouria’s jaw dropped as he suddenly realized what he would have to do.

Everything clicked into place.

Thunder was the one they broke out from the asylum. It was coinciding with the time Pouria began to plan his assault on the city. It was all planned out to capture Pouria and kill him before he even started on his warpath. Somehow he knew about his plans… It must have been this ‘Exodus Angel’ that informed him and set this into motion.

This time, he would have to face him, and he couldn’t just run from him like last time. He was going straight into the maw of the beast to free his friend.

This time, Pouria would finish what Thunder started. This city wasn’t big enough for both of them.