Chương 27: Surgery

Surgery was already new to me, magical surgery was even more novel a concept. Unfortunately I had no prep-time for it, as the auditor who started it immediately grabbed my arms. There had to be some sick sense of humor in limbs that felt outright numb before deciding this was the time they were ready to feel sensations. My forearms felt like they were on fire. This would have been torture enough on its own, but then came a great set of words.

"First the muscle tissue." The burning heat exacerbated to a mind-numbing fever pitch. The center of my vision was white, like my eyes were losing the ability to process color as my brain delegated more focus on processing the agony. I screamed myself hoarse. I said every curseword I thought of. I cursed God. Not a single thing I said brought me an ounce of relief. It was like I was trying to vent the pressure off but even the vent was sensitive and brought more pain upon me.

You'd think at this point I would've passed out, but somehow I was still conscious. A little blood coming out of me knocked me out, but the feeling of my muscles rebuilding themselves piece by piece is fine? My body's got a twisted sense of humor. At some point my body stopped screaming. There was no conscious reaction to it, I think I just ran out of air. I had made an attempt to breathe with the same vigor of a drowning man, but it didn't feel like an ounce of air actually stayed in my lungs.

Not from screaming, just like it was passing out of me immediately. I felt physically hollowed out. The muscles were frayed and swinging around loosely as they tried to tie together. It felt like my arms were made of shag carpet, and any brush of even a single "hair" against the air was like something trying to claw my entire arm off. At some point, God knows how long, the active fire in my arms stopped. Just a low burn at this point. It didn't feel good, but compared to before? Heaven on Earth.

Then Hell arrived in my ears.

"Now for the nerves." Some twisted sense of humor of the situation, my arms felt too hot and now with the newly-growing nerves digging themselves through sinew there was now lightning bolts of solid cold shooting through. The fire came back to fight with this freezing sensation, and neither were making for good guests. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't even yell. I felt a strap on the stretcher snapping free. Needles, barbs, everything dug through me as every nerve flared with life.

Every time they touched together, another jolt of a cold like no other. Felt like there was salt being poured into the open sores. If karma existed, this was it coming back to bite me in the ass for all the people I broke the limbs of. The relentless battle of a firestorm in a blizzard ended with the pins and needles sensation more common to someone who's slept on a limb, which I took with mercy. But of course, life could not be that easy.

"Almost done. Now for skin." This gnawing, stretching sensation pushed along my arms as I could feel hot and cold warring it out again. Though by this point, I was used to it enough I could at least breathe. Long, exasperated gasps for air, but that was still breathing. My vision finally returned to me as the worst of the frigid burning ended, and sensation of pressure was now on my arms. I managed to raise my head to look at my arms. Hairless on the forearms now, but there was no blood or skin.

"Hair should grow back within the next couple of weeks. Don't let them come into contact with holy water." That prompted a wheezing response from me.

"What the fuck did you do-" Not even looking at me, Agent Lafeuillade waved it off.

"Nothing actually profane, but I learned this from Haagenti and any knowledge obtained from a Goetic Demon generally produces results that react poorly to the divine. You don't strike me as a churchgoer so you should be fine. Honestly, I'm the one dealing with the worst of it." The lady seemed unharmed to me. She then pulled her pipe from her mouth, offering the narrow end to me.

"Tobacco for the pain?" Shook my head. No need to start any bad habits. She nodded, taking a pull of it herself and stepping away. With a snap of her fingers, all of the straps on my stretcher that weren't already broken fell free.

"Learned that one from Houdini's ghost. Anyways, stay here until I let Agent Tancred know." She slipped her sunglasses back on, and sauntered out of the room. I just watched my arms. Curling my fingers brought on that pins and needles sensation even more, but it was manageable at this point.

"Didn't know someone could do that," I muttered, my lungs protesting the sudden loss of air in them. They'd get used to it. Dr. Way's voice broke the silence.

"I didn't even know that was how healing magic could work. She looked like she was in a daze the whole time, and I just saw all of your wounds shutting. How did it feel?" I looked at her like she just asked a pig what dry rub should be put on it.

"Like something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. And that was just my arm, fucking Hell. I never wanna deal with that again." The scientist clicked her tongue.

"Then don't try to catch random wads of spikes with your forearms." I brought both hands up to my face, rubbing it.

"They weren't initially spikes. They were like bowling balls so I was just trying to keep them from splintering into my eyes on impact. They changed in mid-air when I wasn't looking." She nodded, leaning on the stretcher.

"Huh, I see. So these guys can control wood. Do you think the Arboreal Senate taught them or did one guy know and spread it to the others?" All I could offer was a shrug.

"No idea. I did find out something you might see as funny." The doctor tilted her head, and I quietly reveled in not being the one doing that for once.

"You see, I did hear some names. They like to name themselves after trees. The old guy was called Father Pine. They referenced a 'Master Sequoia.' Can you believe that?" If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it. Air rushed out of her nose in amusement.

"They need a new name guy." Seemed like a consensus was forming.

"Oh, there was another thing. They brought something but I never saw it, just heard them talking about it. Do you know what a uh..." Words, Leo, words.

"... Fuck, what was it..." I tapped my hand on my leg.

"Punchyra? Something like that. They said it didn't grow without direct sunlight." Dr. Way looked off to my right, looking at what was probably the ceiling. Gathering her thoughts, perhaps.

"Do you mean 'pachira?'" It clicked.

"Yeah, that." I answered. She raised a finger.

"Pachira aquatica. They're tropical wetland trees from South America, and parts of Central America and the Caribbean. They're commonly known as the Guiana Chestnut but up here, they're popularly known as the 'money tree' because of a story about some poor guy who found one and sold plants from its seeds." I nodded.

"But what about the direct sunlight thing?" Her finger was then accompanied by the other digits, her hand rolling a little.

"Was getting to that. Money trees don't like direct sunlight, it can burn their leaves. They like bright lights but artificial lights are the more popular choice early on. So you can grow them indoors easily enough. Maybe that's why they had it in the factory. Did you find it?" Only thing I could offer there was a shaken head.

"I passed out before I could search any of them." A nod from her.

"There's some people investigating the scene now, they showed up while we were leaving. They should be able to find it. Frankly, my bigger worry is the nuts." My head tilted, because of fucking course it did.

"The nuts?" Another nod from her.

"Yeah, money tree nuts are super toxic. You eat those and your organs swell up and you usually end up with some kind of cancer. Over 80% kill rate. Maybe they were planning on poisoning people?" Going by the conversation I heard, that didn't sound right.

"They were talking about a throne and it needing the Senate's fertilizer." Samantha sat up in her seat, crossing her arms.

"So the Arboreal Senate has an optimized fertilizer for plant growth, and the ADU want a throne for something. Probably whatever is running the Senate. Or maybe this 'Master Sequoia.'" She snorted.

"Such a stupid name." Had to nod, but I couldn't laugh at this point. Throat was getting raw.

"I can't judge now. You people are calling me Hercules." A shrug came from her.

"Yeah, on the clock. You're still you, regardless. These guys probably eat, breathe, and sleep it. Wonder if there's a Father Monkey Puzzle." Another head tilt from me. She didn't even wait for a question.

"Tree from Chile where it's covered in spikes and looks really bizarre. Got the name because scientists said it would 'puzzle a monkey' to try and climb it. The other name is the Chile Pine." I just nodded, resting my hands on my knees.

"Wonder wh-" The door swung open. I didn't even need to mention this fucking guy's name at this point for him to show up. Tancred. Notably, he was missing the pants from his suit. Instead, he wore a pair of nylon basketball shorts.

"Wish Lafeuillade woulda' fuckin' told me whatever she would do would involve shaving off her organs. You know what happens when bits of your organs start vanishing? The rest panic! You know what happens when your organs panic? They start pushing things out. Hey, doc, you know what happens when your stomach starts pushing things out? Explain it to Herc here." Sam leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms.

"Emission." He nodded.

"Yeah, emission. She spewed her fucking guts out all over my pants. Those things cost more than my car and they were bought with tax dollars. At least she fixed my hand." Tancred held up his right arm, which was surprisingly bereft of a sling.

"Good compensation for me, but I'm gonna have to get new pants now. Anyways, come on. You look fine, Herc, get on your feet." Reaching into his jacket, he brought out a pair of sunglasses and a baseball hat.

"Mask's technically under NDA until the demo so I just grabbed these. Cover your appearance up quick." I pushed myself out of my stretcher, accidentally bending the frame a little before approaching Tancred and slipping my glasses and hat on, my motions a little limp.

"Quit acting all fucking worn down. The sad sack act is annoying." Those words burned in me, compelling me to look up and fight every instinct in my body to not punch him through every wall of this hospital. He simply brought a hand up in response.

"I get it. You saw him get shot. You think you're at fault. Come with me." Without another word, he turned and walked away, getting himself a few steps too far out of punching range. Dejectedly, I followed. I could hear Sam's footsteps behind me. Rubber boots on linoleum produced more of a sound than I realized, but that was how I knew she was following. Nurses, doctors, and patients rushed around us as he led me down a hallway and a flight of stairs, before reaching a metallic door. Cold air erupted from it.

I looked to either side of it, but saw no indication it was a morgue. Unconsciously, I held my breath. The agent led me and Sam through the doors to a room with much cooler lighting, and a pair of doctors looking over a bed. Tancred called out to them, speaking.

"Outta the way, bonesaws. Need to do some business." The two doctors backed away with a nod, moving their discussion about ten feet away. What was there, in the bed, was Christian. I shouldn't have been happy to see him, given a large bandage sat around his head, obscuring one of his eyes. That shit was my fault. Chris, however, was very happy to see me. He spoke up with merriment.

"Oh snap, Herc, you're okay!" Me?

"Yeah I'm okay, what the Hell happened to you? I saw blood fly out of your head; you got shot-" The redhead was quick to wave it off.

"Graze on my cheek. Split open about an inch. Gonna leave a nasty scar but all the blood is because the face is full of blood. Funny thing, the inverted shirt idea? Because of how I fell over, the bundled up shirt pressed on the wound." He pointed at me, sending a wink along with it.

"Your idea for head-covering saved my life. I could've bled out." The point turned into a thumbs up.

"I'm the first life you've saved as a superhero, Hercules." A palm sat on my shoulder. Turning towards it, I saw it belonged to Tancred.

"Now are you gonna stop being a whiny little shit? He's fine, and he's fine because of you. Your focus on disguising yourself was the serendipity that kept your leader from bleeding out in some abandoned factory. That's the instinct that made me lend you the job offer." All I could do was stare at him until the words brought themselves to my mind.

"Why didn't you just tell me that in the first place." The mustache raised as he put on a smirk.

"Doesn't feel good not knowing if one of your allies is pushing up daisies, right? That's what you dopes did to me. You pull that crap again and I'll find even worse psychological torture for you." Tancred let go of my shoulder.

"Do your convening. Once Agent Lafeuillade's done horfing up yesterday's dinner, we'll get her to close up Flowstate's wound and go home. I'll have discharge paperwork for Herc ready in the next half an hour." With that, he left the three of us to our devices. Chris looked at me with his one uncovered eye, still grinning giddy.

"That was really scary, I can't lie, but there was some cool stuff I did. Did you see when I managed to throw a guy while falling at him?"

"You did that?" asked Sam. I then watched this redheaded moron go on about the fight to the doctor, while I was paralyzed with stress about the fact I nearly got him killed. But inside there was something burning hot in me. Not painfully. I actually saved someone's life.