By all accounts, Garreth should've been dead—burnt to a char by the magick-infused inferno that had ravaged the steel plant. He had already let go of his sabre, anticipating a swift demise, the instant he heard the ear-shattering booms of factory machinery violently exploding. With his eyes closed and shoulders loosened, he merely submitted to his fate, hoping he would be reunited with his wife and child.

"Flam lasair!"

But rather than engulf him and the others nearby, the violet conflagration instead encircled them like a horde of ravenous wolves, invisible forces keeping the searing flames at bay. Steel beams warped, and walls crumbled under the blistering heat, yet the people around him remained completely untouched by the intense blaze. Confounded by the miracle on display, Garreth whipped around in search of an explanation for the scene before him.

His lips quivered as he realised his saviour was none other than Sif, the spiky-haired magus, who had recovered from his injury and raised his silver wand to protect everybody from the blast. Behind him, Naomi ran over to Lynn's body, which lay motionless on the ground, and crouched by her side. Wasting no time, the magus slid a palm beneath the half-elf's neck and cupped the other over it, applying pressure to the puncture wounds on her nape and throat.

"Solast slanaich!" Naomi incanted, summoning a glow that enveloped Lynn's exposed flesh.

"Hey, you!" She looked up and called Garreth over. "Quit dawling and help me out over here!"

Though initially confused as to the motives behind her unwarranted act of kindness, the agent brushed aside his qualms and hurried to her aid. "What can I do here?"

"Her heart's stopped. I need you to place one hand over the other and place them against the centre of her chest. Then, keep pushing down at a steady rhythm, about twice a second. Got it?"

"And what does that accomplish?"

"Theoretically, it should get her to breathe again. I read about it in a research journal from abroad before, trust me. In the meantime, I'll seal up the hole in her gullet with my magicks. My abilities appear to have been amplified now that the machinery is gone, so hope is not lost."

"For her sake and yours, I pray this works."

Fingers interlaced, Garreth repeatedly pressed down against his partner's firm breasts, striving to maintain a stable tempo in accordance with the magus' instructions. Meanwhile, Naomi concentrated on casting her healing spell, the light from her fingertips almost blinding.

Tensely, the overseers and the children, including the one Lynn had saved, waited with bated breath as the duo worked tirelessly to resuscitate the half-elf, her limp form jolting with each compress Garreth made. When the blood had stopped pooling beneath her—the veins and arteries in her neck fully reconnected—Naomi noticed the man's weakening pace. "You'll have to push harder than that, you know? Pour all your strength into it!"

"Any harder, and her ribs will break!"

"She's better off with broken ribs than dead, so just do it!"

Reluctantly, Garreth put his back into it, sensing his partner's bones crack beneath. "Shit..."

"O-oi, pick it up, you two!" Sif shouted at them, his tone anxious and his arm visibly exhausted. "I can only hold these flames back for so long! My side still hurts like a bitch, you know?"

"Just a little while longer, Sif!" Naomi did her best to knit the shredded tissue back together. It was a race against the clock, and the firestorm wasn't letting up. Everyone was on tenterhooks, the heavy atmosphere muting the roar and crackle of the blaze that threatened to consume them; the sole noise that came through was the laboured exhales of the Bureau agent as he continuously pumped his partner's heart, glistening pearls of sweat dripping off his chin bristles.

Each second that passed felt like an eternity, and it seemed as though the young half-elf would never again wake up. Against all odds, however, a sharp gasp escaped Lynn's lips, much to the shock of those present. "R... rookie..." Garreth muttered in disbelief. Naomi herself was surprised that this one obscure piece of information she had retained from years of medical studies had actually produced results.

Reinvigorated by the revival of the half-elf's weak but audible pulse, the magus focused all her energy on repairing the rest of the damage—only to be interrupted by Sif's panicked yelling. "I've reached my limit here, Naomi! Wrap it up so I can bust us out of here! I'm being serious!"

"C-crap, her skin and muscle won't regenerate in time," the magus said to herself, removing her hands dyed sanguine and zeroing in on the hostages. "Can any of you lend me a shirt, preferably a clean one? I need something to cover her wounds with! Please, we're running out of—!"

Without delay, Garreth handed her a gauze. "Here. It's a little cut up, but it should be usable."

"O-oh, thank you." Naomi grabbed and appraised the bandage roll. "You just happen to carry these around?"

"It's standard issue, after all..."

Adroitly, the magus dressed Lynn's wounds, keeping her first-aid training in mind. Once layers of woven cloth had neatly concealed the gory mark left by her late comrade, the magus gestured for the Bureau agent to lift his partner into his arms. Gingerly, he did so, cradling her fragile frame with an uncharacteristic tenderness. And Lynn's face, pale and drawn, appeared peaceful as if suspended between life and death.

"She's merely unconscious." Naomi caught Garreth staring at his partner's visage. "Probability of survival is high if you rush her to hospital. So, for now, focus on getting her there, okay?"

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Yeah... I will."

With an affirming nod, the magus wiped her hands on her robes and jogged over to her friend. "Alright, we're done! Now make a path for us before we're roasted alive!"

"Fucking finally!" Sif huffed. "What about Kaz and Edmund? Do we bring them with us?"

"Leave them." Naomi shot a glance at the corpses of her fallen comrades. "They wanted to die as martyrs. We'd be going against their will if we removed them from the scene of the crime."

"You sure?"

"As deplorable as their actions were, I want to respect their last wishes. Is that so bad?"

As her sentiments struck a chord with him, the spiky-haired magus conceded. "Damn it... you're right. Even without their bodies, though, I think we should notify their families, or what's left of their kin, of their legacy... if we get the opportunity to, that is."

"Tell me, Sif... we did the best we could, didn't we?"

"You ask me that like I know the answer myself!"

Sif, with a shaky flick of his wand, parted the flames, opening a pathway that led outside through disintegrated brickwork and the melted scraps of a ruptured boiler. And Garreth, who had overheard their exchange, stayed silent; he was in no position to argue. At this point, all he cared about was getting Lynn to safety. Taking the lead, Naomi marched up to the break in the firestorm and swung around to address the hostages.

"Listen up!" She bellowed, her voice battling against the inferno's fury. "I know you may resent us for today's incident; I don't blame you, nor do I expect you to ever forgive us! But the fact of the matter is I never intended for innocents to get hurt, much less perish for our noble cause! I tell you this not to garner sympathy but because, just this once, I ask for your trust in us!"

"Are you done spouting your self-serving drivel?"

"I beg your pardon?"

The girl shot a glare at the bespectacled orc overseer, who scoffed at her speech.

"Don't try to wash your hands of your crimes, you witch. You fully intended to harm us when you took over this factory; your cause ceased to be noble the moment you resorted to terrorism. Had you advocated for your 'rights' peacefully in the streets, none of this would've panned out like this. So drop this false pacifist narrative of yours and face your sins with some backbone, will you?"

"You're lucky we even bothered saving you, you heartless—"

"Oi, this ain't the time or place to be arguing!" Mana reserves close to depletion, the spiky-haired magus barked at the two. "Now get your arses moving, or so help me..!"

"R-right..." Naomi, reminded of the circumstances they were in, calmed herself and spoke up. "Just believe what you will and stay close to us if you want to live! That's about it!"

With a wave of her hand, she motioned for everyone to follow her through the opening her comrade had created, and as there was no other alternative besides death, they cautiously trailed behind the magi. A wall of fire flanked them—the air so scorched it evaporated the very sweat on their skin. Moving through the tunnel, they narrowly avoided oncoming debris from the burning ceiling and bolted out into an open railyard littered with cinders.

When the last child made it through, Sif broke off his spell and watched as the flames swallowed up the remains of his former friends. People he had known for years faded away in the blink of an eye; his legs buckled under the realisation. And the building collapsed in on itself, leaving no trace of the steel plant it once was. As clouds of grey smoke billowed into the open sky, Garreth checked to see if his partner was still alright.

"I... is she okay, mister?" Standing on his tiptoes, the bruised-up young boy gazed up at her.

Remembering him as the one Lynn had risked her life for, the Bureau agent bobbed his head. "She's certainly hanging in there, kid. You'll get your chance to thank her soon. Don't worry."

A relieved smile tugged at the corners of his cracked lips, brightening his sooty countenance. "Thank goodness..."

Gravelly footsteps echoed as Naomi approached Garreth. Traumatised by the blank porcelain mask she wore, the child scuttled behind the Bureau agent. "There's no undoing this, is there?" She asked him, staring down at her bloodied hands.

"Come to regret your actions already, blueblood?" Garreth snarked. "Well, you'll have to carry that burden for the remainder of your life. I hope your little stunt here today was worth it."

"It won't be much of a life soon. You're going to haul us to Tartarus, aren't you?"

"Do you want me to?"

Conflicted, her gaze faltered. "I... I don't know..."

And the man pursed his lips. "Look, if you seek atonement for what you did, just walk away from this cult of yours and help out your fellow man. You're a doctor, correct?"

"I'm not allowed near hospitals; I can't get a medical license, let alone the proper equipment. Why do you think I run with these people? Magi can't be doctors in this country anymore..."

"And yet here in my arms is a life you saved."

"But... but... I..." She stuttered, stunned by this simple utterance.

"When I said help your fellow man, I never said it'd be easy. Shit, it's going to be harder when the papers catch wind of what you did. But that's just the first step on your path to redemption. Would you rather get busted running an illegal clinic or be outed as a terrorist? It's your choice."

"You're... not wrong..."

"Just lay low and keep your nose clean—same goes for your buddy over there. And if I ever catch you falling in with the wrong crowd again... well, I'll leave you to figure it out yourself." Garreth then turned to the overseers, who had grouped up beside the workers. "You don't have a problem with these folk walking free, now do you, gentlemen?"

With a smirk, the orc with the glasses shrugged his shoulders. "Even if you clapped them in irons, we wouldn't be compensated for this. And I'd rather not waste time testifying against these lowlives in court. As far as I'm concerned, they died alongside their brethren in the blast."

"How awfully kind of you."

"What'll be more interesting is seeing how you spin the story of our survival to your superiors. More than thirty people escaping unscathed from an explosion of this magnitude doesn't exactly sound plausible on paper... unless magicks are involved."

"Let's just say I have some pull within the Bureau. It'll work out."

Naomi considered the second chance the man granted her and could only clutch her robes and bow her head in gratitude. "Thank you..." She whispered, on the verge of tears.

A wordless agreement was made—a secret pact forged in the flames of crisis. Stoic orcish overseers, child workers huddled together, a battered boy, a guilt-ridden magus, and her crestfallen companion—an eclectic bunch who had joined the agent in this uneasy truce, and when Lynn was eventually apprised of this promise, she too had become a part of it. Weeks later, for no particular reason, that fateful day resurfaced in Garreth's mind.

"Garreth!" Abruptly, a voice cut through his daydream.