image [https://img.wattpad.com/story_parts/1433892882/images/17c0bbf00e69019e601635405860.jpg]

Darkness. That's all there was for a while: no dreams, no visions, just darkness. I floated in it–not fully conscious, but not entirely unconscious. Then, at some point, I began reliving the worst experience of my life. Over and over, it replayed itself. Despite my desire to go numb, my heart felt every play-through as if it were the first.

Finally, it ended as my eyes fluttered open. I was looking at an unfamiliar yet somehow familiar, white, metallic ceiling—no, not a ceiling–a wall. I was lying on my stomach. I tried to move to sit up but couldn't. I still couldn't move.

Hyperventilating, I groaned as my mind raced. What was this? Where did Verin take me?

"Hey, it's okay," A familiar voice said from somewhere to my right. I turned my head enough to see Michael entering the room and approaching my side, looking worn out with bags under his eyes and disheveled hair.

While peering down at me, he looked uncharacteristically relieved momentarily before becoming serious.

"It's all right; you're in a safe location. This is a special place within my home. I had to bring everyone here to heal you all without being discovered," he hovered his hands over my back as if to feel for any internal injuries. "You shouldn't attempt any sudden movements; it could tear the progress of the healing I've already accomplished."

"What day is it? Please tell me I haven't been out for nearly a week again."

"You've been asleep for only two days."

"Two days..." I relaxed a little, relieved. "Sorry if I've been a burden during that time."

Michael looked at me regrettably.

"This partly my fault..." He started, then shook his head.

"I presume you're aware that you can't move much," he said, changing the subject. "How'd you end up in such a state? Verin was there. I presume it had something to do with her."

"Yeah..." I thought back to Verin punching me.

"Well, your back was severely broken when I found you. I've been slowly repairing the tissues in your spine while you were asleep. However, for some reason, it requires a bit more effort to heal you now."

He grasped my hand as it lay by my side, then placed his other hand somewhere on my lower back. I realized I couldn't feel his touch– not on my back or my hand. Shortly afterward, his hands and mine began to glow with a whiteish-yellow energy that spread throughout my body as he began to heal me a little more. I could feel the warmth slowly granting me mobility again as I wiggled my toes, and then I felt sensation return to my hands as I felt his firm grip. A few minutes later, I could move everything again, but it still hurt to do so.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Looking at him, I saw he'd started sweating from the process. He must've really pushed himself in the past week.

"Thank you," I said, sitting up. "And thank you for looking after me all this time."

Michael gave me a subtle nod.

I realized I was still clutching his hand and relaxed my grip. He still held mine for a moment before noticing and retracting his hand. I was thankful he was very diligent about protecting humans.

"Take this," he leaned a brown cane against the bed. "You're not fully healed yet. I'll wait outside the room. Once you get dressed, I'll take you to the others."

As he left the room, I looked down, only then becoming aware that I was wearing a gown with nothing underneath it and that I was surprisingly clean for someone who hadn't showered in two days after being covered in sweat and blood.

Who...?

My cheeks flushed as I imagined Michael cleaning me. Then, a compartment of the wall rose as a programmed nurse bot usually found in hospitals strolled in.

[Patient: Alissia Heart. Biometric Status: awake. Would you like another cleaning before leaving, Miss Heart?]

"No, that's fine. I'll be cleaning myself from now on," I replied. I was relieved that it was the robot that cleaned me...

I looked around the room. It was...bare, to say the least. There was no entertainment, no windows, no nothing—just white, shiny walls and a clean, sterile scent.

It took more effort than I thought it would to get out of bed and put clothes on. I didn't even bother tying my hair up. I left it loose and down; some of the front was long enough to cover part of my eyes now. After maybe forty minutes, I stepped outside the room where Michael was waiting. He then led me down a long white hall with multiple doors. It was embarrassing how long it took me to trudge down the hall like an old woman. But I didn't complain. I was sick of complaining.

As I pushed forward, I could still feel the power that had coursed through me from ingesting the JANUS tablets. When the memories started to flow back in, I closed my eyes tightly in an attempt to shut them out.

"I can heal your internal injuries completely after the others come to," Michael said in concern. He must've thought I was grimacing from the pain. He looked down at my chest, where a red scar stood out—Verin's gift to me. I touched it, feeling how the rigid scar rose from the rest of my skin.

"I'm sorry, but I won't be able to heal that completely until the laces of Verin's energy are gone. The most I could do was close the wound," He sympathized.

"Don't worry about it," I said, trying to change the subject. "How'd you find me anyway?"

"That spike in your energy led me to you," he answered as we veered left to one of the doors. "I found you and Verin inside an empty warehouse. When I saw you, I brought you here to heal you along with the others."

Michael opened the door, revealing a room similar to the one I had been in. There were four small, blood-stained beds parallel to each other—each supporting either Damien, Naomi, or Arne as they lay unconscious.

Michael walked over and dispersed his energy among them, continuing his treatment.

"Are they okay?" I asked as I moved closer to Arne. Their face was scarred from the burns, but it didn't look as horrible as it had before. At closer inspection, each of them had scars covering their bodies. Their more severe wounds had already been mostly healed.

"I can't heal them as I normally would, but they're not in any danger."

"What do you mean? Now that I think about it, you mentioned struggling with healing me, too. Isn't it as simple as touching them like you did with the poisoned man?" I asked.

"Not quite. Healing a Primordial—or perhaps I should say healing aklevonian—is already more taxing than healing humans or animals. With thestrong spirit residue left in their wounds, it's taken even more energy just tokeep them stable."