Chương 222: Act 3, Chapter 71: Revisiting old battlefields

Day in the story: 28th January (Wednesday), morning Alexandra May as Jess Hare I stood in front of the Ideworld's Brothers of Mercy Hospital. It was a big building made at the beginning of the last century, but there were patches of architectural discontinuity where modernity tried to insert new ideas into a tired, worn structure.

Glass and steel replaced brick, and while the functionality and durability of the whole thing certainly improved, the visage changed from a cohesive—old but majestic—unit of a wide wall into a Frankenstein's monster in an urban skin. I frowned, looking at that, while a chopper landed on the roof to the sound of anti-aircraft rounds being fired from the turrets mounted there as well.

The rounds were strange, because they left streaks of light behind, tracing through the air as they hit a wyvern-like creature or an oversized gargoyle that tried to scoop the helicopter out of the sky. With its wings torn apart by the gunfire, it fell to the ground somewhere on the other side of the building.

"Hell of a welcome, no?" Dam's voice echoed at my side. I leaned against him, supporting myself with crutches. It was a miracle I managed to get up here on my own strength. Ever since two days ago, I had spent most of the time lying down, unable to move at all, both my body and magic freezing up. Even my Personas had started having slight freezes now, but they were still functioning pretty well.

It was Alex who sent us into Ideworld, caught us a cab, and made sure we were okay before he teleported to my Domain a minute ago.

"A night's monster that overstayed. It's proper they disposed of it. I just didn't think it would be this protected."

"It's the Guild's hospital in part. Shadows are treated here as well, from what I understand, but the USG is treating its own patients with human doctors too, and they have a functional Gate in the basement, so they have to protect it. Those rounds are all laced with some form of deadly Authority as they leave the gun."

"I understand the basic concept now. It relies on proper Authorities and leading them through gem with different shapes and colors to get the desired results."

"You might be smarter than me about it. I never really bothered to get to know the insights of the process," Dam replied, helping me move up the stairs. I felt a duality of emotions arise—an ambivalence I couldn't shake. On one hand there was anger, disappointment, and repulsion at what had happened to me—the fact that at twenty-one I could not move on my own, while for as long as I could remember I had been in peak physical condition. This weighed on me heavily.

And then there was indifference and unconcern running alongside it, because I could just as well be in a vegetative state in my main body and still feel the breeze of the air as I flew around as Maya, or the rush of adrenaline as I fought inside Alex's body, trying to better understand the possibilities music offered me. Even the simplicity of human interaction—trying to fit into a new group as Elle—was a reminder of a life I was missing while unable to move as Alexa.

And yet that latter part was beginning to be affected, and so I could no longer remain impassive, hoping that if I left the problem alone long enough, it would fix itself.

"Being smart didn't help me avoid another hospital visit," I replied, looking at other people going in and out of the building. That included Caroline Jackson, who came marching out as the sliding doors parted before her. She took just a few steps before Loki materialized in front of her in a brilliant flash of light that parted as if reality itself had been torn to make way for this dog.

The beautiful golden retriever rushed at me, then stopped in front of me, wagged its tail, and joined me in my walk toward its master.

"Happy to see you, Jess."

"Likewise, Loki. It'll be some time before we run together, though."

"Fear not. Loki's favorite command—wait!" I smiled in response, then greeted Caroline with a proper hello, right after Damien, who shook her hand firmly, pulled her in for a quick pat on the back, released her, and gave a Guild salute by pressing a fist to his chest. She responded in kind.

"You said you were getting better last time we spoke."

"Yes, Carol, I did. Might have overcalculated the influx of my health. Slightly."

"Slightly!? Ain't you peachy? You look and move like a wreck. That's all Rhythm's doing?"

"Don't think so, but I'm here to check, since other methods of healing didn't help much." My leg was regrowing at a steady, slow pace. Based on my brain-web's calculations, I estimated I'd have to remove the flat-surface projector from the prosthetic in about a month, as there would no longer be space for it, and get off the artificial leg entirely in about a month and a half to wait out the final weeks of my foot regrowing.

I decided not to wait and had the device removed two days ago, directing it with the help of Alex and Maya, who—with assistance from minions—placed it into his own leg instead. I wasn't doing much running or jumping anyway.

"Told ya. If you'd listened to my call, we'd be here three weeks ago!"

"We'll see if it proves helpful still," I told her as Loki disappeared and we entered the hospital. It greeted us with the smell of disinfectant and tired people, clean clinical lights, and floors that were half polished, half dirty.

"I hope it does, because we've got our job cut out for us. Robbie's become a mess as of late—he attacks Edge's operations everywhere. It's become such a problem for them, they asked the Guild for help." Yeah, Alex needed that leg enhancement much more than I did. We organized this whole thing relying on one big advantage we had over enemy forces—we could be almost everywhere at once. They couldn't. Maya and my spy-der network allowed me to learn about the places where they conducted various field tasks.

She went there, and I painted those places with the help of minions that acted as my hands when my own couldn't move. With so many anchors present, it was always a matter of choosing the one that was least protected at any given time. This way, Alex—wearing Malik's brother's face—had become a real menace to Edge of Tomorrow's operations.

It had gotten so bad that Alicia Bergman, their creepy stiletto-in-the-brain kind of CEO, had become paranoid enough to think that everyone and their mother could be a mole in the corporation. And of course, all of their field teams had been given a kill-on-sight order for Robbie, so it was only a matter of time before he decided to crawl out of his hole—if he was even still alive—just to be greeted with something very emotional from his former brothers-in-arms.

Shiroi even called one day, trying to find out if I knew anything about the guy, but I had nothing I could give him.

"I'd love to help—you know I would—but as you can see, my grand debut as a Hexblade was a swan song, nothing more."

"You're still alive. Let's not slip into dark humor," Dam murmured, so quietly it made me wonder if I'd ever heard him speak that way before.

"I only meant that I went on my first mission and ended up facing decommissioning because of my health."

"You haven't been decommissioned," Jackson replied, missing the point entirely as she wove through the crowd, drawing irritated looks from those she pushed past.

"What's your emergency?" a woman behind the counter asked as we approached. She waved us closer when Caroline showed her Guild badge. That earned a few unpleasant remarks from the Shadows waiting in line that we had just cut.

"We have an appointment with Dr. Thorne regarding the problems of a Hexblade field agent."

"Dr. Thorne will be coming here shortly. Please wait further back."

"Thank you, Harriet," Caroline replied. She turned and came back to us just as another freezing episode claimed me, squeezing the ability to move out of me entirely.

"Need help, Dam. Can't move again," I spoke through the mouth I had painted at the base of my neck, at the back of my head, just for this occasion.

"Of course," he said, and swooped me off the ground with his massive arms. He took a few steps toward the far wall, where he paused briefly, still holding me pressed against his chest. The look he gave a pair of younger people sitting there—one of whom had a beautiful pair of ram-like horns sprouting from his temples—was enough to make them stand up and move away so he could help me sit instead. Caroline took the crutches and kept them, hovering around as if expecting smoke at any moment.

"That doesn't look very good," she said.

"That happens all the time now, right?"

"Yes," Dam replied.

"Like I told you. She needs help, and quickly. I fear she will not be able to breathe soon and will perish entirely." The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

"I'd just paint myself some lungs," I replied through the fake mouth.

"And everything else that stops working."

"That's serious. Please, no more jokes," Dam said, his brows furrowed. I hated how rigid he became. When a man like him—usually in a good mood—acted like this, it made me realize the severity of my situation.

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't. Have some respect."

"What do you mean, big guy?" Caroline asked.

"You wouldn't be here? That's oddly specific." Dam looked at her, and the weight of the thought he carried must have been immense, because it took him a moment before he turned it into words.

"Nick is not my only child."

"Oh?" Carol replied, taking a step back, the half-smile on her face disappearing.

"Yes. I had a daughter once—a pretty little angel, after her mother." He paused, and I already knew this would come from a very dark place.

"She was older than Nicky—my Alina. She got sick one day. Doctors couldn't figure it out at first. We couldn't heal it, no matter how hard we tried. It was as if her soul knew deep down that this was her natural state and refused to move even an inch toward the light. She coughed and cried. Her breathing became shallower with every passing day, and both she and we realized we wouldn't be able to stop it. She begged us to help, said she didn't want to die—that she wanted to stay with us."

He took a deep breath and wiped away a tear.

"What can a parent say in a situation like that?" Another tear followed.

"I hope you never have to find out." He paused again, turning his head slightly.

"We brought her here when she still had some strength left in her little body. The Guild insisted their best doctors worked in this hospital. If anyone was going to heal her, it would be them."

"There were no miracles here for you," I said.

"No. Only quiet goodbyes. But I'd come here again if I were faced with the same issue. I am here again today. I refuse to give up when there is hope." A tear ran down my cheek, then another, and I could do nothing to stop or hide them. I was glad my make-up was made permanent with my magic—but also for this indirect way in which Dam said that he loved me.

"I think there is nothing worse than losing a child. It's like having a bigger part of your soul torn away." I remained silent for a while, but Dam pulled me closer, embracing me with one arm in a side hug.

"I did not intend to sadden you, but this hospital brought back memories."

"Is that why Ariana did not want to come?"

"You noticed?"

"Yes. She was always happy to treat me, but when you mentioned this place, it was like a vow of silence claimed her."

"Of the two of us, she is the emotionally stronger one. But to keep that strength for everyday life, she carries a weakness for memories. As long as they remain just in her mind, she stays strong—but when they are made real by visiting places where Alina's presence was so strong—""I understand," I replied.

"I do too," Caroline added.

"Sorry to bring this up, man."

"It's nothing. It was good to let it out. I miss her every day of my life." That's the difference between losing a parent and losing a child. I missed mine for a time, but it passed—while his pain persisted because of all the expectations he had poured into that love. I guess this is exactly the kind of love Penrose was trying to inoculate me against, as it was the only one he himself knew. He too lost a child.

I wanted to ask Dam about their relationship, but it wasn't the right time with Caroline standing right next to us, so we all waited for the doctor. Alex Weatherlight Daggers embedded in the ground along the wall played a time-slowing melody, while I became a blur to those stationed there. They tried to aim and fire, but with that much temporal debt working against them, hitting me was impossible.

I moved at an almost leisurely pace, making sure I appeared nearly normal to their eyes, while bullets missed me by easily calculated inches. Meanwhile, far above the encampment, Lio released one of my singing blades. Seconds later, it struck the chronoak at the center. I had to admit—they had improved security since Alexa's last visit. The walls, once wooden, had been reinforced with metal and stone. Inside, permanent structures replaced the tents, and the tree was nearly sealed within a dome of steel and glass.

Nearly—that key -word proved critical. It left just enough of an opening for Lio's aerial drop. By the time the blade landed and began playing Thunderstruck, he was already retreating to safety, while my Authority infused the sound with the certainty and conviction of a real storm. And it was spectacular. Black clouds gathered above the compound, and the first bolts of lightning struck the tree within.

The green glow clashed with bursts of orange, red, and yellow flame, mingling with thick plumes of grey and black smoke that struggled to escape the half-finished dome. It wouldn't take long for their prized possession to be consumed. All it had taken was one mistake—sending away the mages stationed here for a brief excursion nearby. I hoped they would appreciate the reenactment of Alexa's last visit when they returned.

It was time for me to summon my blades and get going, especially since I started getting those soul cramps she was bedridden with. Alexandra May as Jess Hare"I'm Dr. Hugh Thorne," the physician in a white coat with a limp said as he approached us. It took him more than an hour to get here—time I spent mostly watching what Alex was doing. It would drive me crazy if I was just sitting doing nothing, but I had other options.

"Follow me to my room." He was a guy most likely in his fifties or older, judging by the looks of his wrinkled face, that seemed to be used to frowns and anger rather than smiles. He kept a short stub of a beard and equally short hair. No pleasantries were offered in his greeting either—not by means of words, gestures, or body language.

"A huge thorn in the ass," Caroline whispered to me, as Dam carried me behind the guy. I was damn well sure that he heard it, but did not react in any way. After five minutes I was already seated in his examination room, while he was leaning against his rosewood desk, that was clean and organized neatly, just like the rest of this place.

"What's the issue?" Thorne asked. Caroline remained behind the closed doors, while I allowed Dam to stay with me.

"I am temporarily and periodically becoming paralyzed, both in bodily functions and most of the new applications of my Authority," I replied.

"Yet you clearly can speak without moving your mouth." He sneered.

"Yes, all the previously applied applications still connected to me remain functional, but that is slowly starting to diminish too," I replied, thinking about my Personas who also started getting those freezes.

"Moreover, it started on my left side and was rare, but now lasts longer, more often, and affects my whole body."

"Slowly," he said, looking at something on his iPad.

"It says that you are an amputee as of about three weeks ago. Let's start with that, shall we?"

"Yes," I replied, watching Dam restlessly observe the man. He had sad eyes while doing so.

"Lost a leg in a fight with a guy that goes by the name of Rhythm."

"Not interested in details, besides his Authority for now."

"Music, Domain of soundtracks."

"Was there any intrusion?" He asked, putting a finger in his mouth, trying to get something out from between his teeth.

"He created a discord briefly, removed connection to most of the items I keep attached to me via shadowlight links, besides a few additional brains." I spoke in a way that would make most people look at me like I am a madwoman, and yet instead of flinching or raising brows he actually started taking an interest in what I was conveying.

"Do you keep most of your Authority in an unbound form when you give it?"

"All. Never learned how to use a bound one." That made him raise his eyebrows, as his mouth simultaneously turned into a wicked half-smile.

"What do you mean by learned? It comes naturally to mages." He chuckled, looking to Dam, and back to me. Damian's stoic expression worked in my favor though.

"Not to me, it doesn't." He dropped his hands down, putting the iPad on the desk, and looked at me with intensity in his eyes.

"How many things remain actively connected to you this way?"

"Around," I started, wanting to give him an estimate, because I lost count at some point, but my brain web was working faster than I assumed it would, "at this very moment almost exactly eight hundred fifty-two," I corrected myself. I still could not take into account anything Gertrude was doing. I knew she shared Authority with a few things, but besides knowing that she worked like a prism, I was unsure how many links she established.

"Fucking reality," Thorne cursed.

"Why on Earth would you keep so many things active? What's your Domain?"

"I need them, and they do not require much from me in Authority upkeep. Most are self-reliant when it comes to gaining energy. I have an interesting Domain of power, doctor—Artistic Creation," I started and told him about my soulmarks and the basic rules of my power. Since I was wearing the skin of Jess Hare, I decided not to hide anything, besides my real identity, in risk of accidentally leaving anything of importance out.

"My Personas eat and behave like normal humans," I continued, when I reached the more juicy stuff. He listened closely.

"So they do not require a stream of Authority to keep them doing normal stuff, like walking, talking, and functioning, and instead draw it from me or the core when they are doing magic. They have their own brains too, which are helped by the brain web I just told you about, just like me. The minions in the world catch bugs and eat them, replenishing their energy, of which they require minuscule amounts in the first place.

Those in my Domain learned to hunt and eat the weird butterflies that it recently started spawning." Those were really cute—they emerged as grubs at first, that looked like a moving piece of an oil painting. When they pupate, they turn into flying, living watercolor images of butterflies. They leave behind droplets of paint as they fly. Nonetheless, my minions love to eat them.

"Normally, I'd advise against keeping Authority unbound, but your soul seems to have adapted to your debilitation." He said as a matter-of-factly.

"Excuse me?" It was difficult to show my outrage without portraying it on my face.

"Inability to bind Authority seems like a crippling issue, but I do not think it's what's keeping you ill. Neither do I think it's you splitting your person into smaller pieces. While this is not common, there are mages who thrive while doing so with different Domains of power, and yours seems to be no different in that regard. The problem lies within the soul, that much is certain."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because it attacks what the soul is in charge of. You move your body on the most basic of Authorities every person on Earth has. Even sleepers have it—the soul gives them the power to use the brain to force it to move the body. The soul is an agent that controls it. Some parts, however, have restricted access, like most bodily functions, which is good in your case.

Your breathing might be partially impaired, as it's a thing that you can consciously—meaning by Authority of the soul—control, but as it fails, your body will take over and you will live unobstructed, but without any control." He explained, tapping his finger against the tablet, he held in the other hand.

"Okay, I get it. That's why my Personas are getting affected, because I still have some direct control over them?"

"That's my assumption for now. When you place Authority within them, you give them strict instructions to become something, and they follow that. It doesn't matter whether they are connected to you or not. They are autonomous. When you try to consciously take over, you spread the problem into them, so I would avoid that."

"You think it attacks my Authority to control things?"

"Yes. Would be foolish to think otherwise."