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Medical Evacuation

    In the medical bay, Lyara was furiously at work preparing each of the wounded for evacuation. The signal from the others would come at any moment, and they needed to be ready to move; their window of opportunity was not significant.


    Her calm demeanor stood in stark contrast to the slight panic in some of the medical staff, though the most experienced doctors maintained their composure. They had seen their fair share of death and dismay. She moved with purpose, her preparation for the Maw''s trial shining through the dreariness of the collapsing world around them.


    The floor of the medical bay was covered with blood and broken bodies. The pristine white walls now stained with dirt and bile. The stench of blood and gore mixed with the fumes of alcohol and disinfectants, creating a putrid scent that made one sick to their stomach. The look of death crept on every face, dismay taking root in each heart.


    Lyara was doing her best to bring comfort to these poor souls.


    "Secure that oxygen tank," she directed a nurse. "And double-check that all patients unable to walk are already on transport gurneys. We are going to have to move quickly, and carrying the invalid will take too long." She turned her attention to Maris, who looked very out of place among the rest of the injured. "I need you to raid the supply cabinet, empty it. We are going to need every portable med kit we can find."


    Maris, her usual haughty demeanor replaced by wide-eyed fear, nodded without argument. Her transformation had been profound, something not uncommon in the Maw. The proud merchant''s daughter who had protested her "kidnapping" was following orders, though often only after having her say.


    They did not always see eye to eye, and Maris still harbored some of her pride.


    "Why are we helping them? The Judge told us that this isn''t real, that what happens to these people is already set in stone!" Maris let her desire for self-preservation take front seat. "We would have a much easier time completing this scenario if we just leave them!"


    Lyara turned, her expression rigid and reflecting her disappointment at the girl''s heartlessness. However, Lyara could understand her point of view. It would be easier to leave them.


    It''s not just enough to complete the scenario, I have to defy the Maw.


    Lyara''s hands never stopped working as she secured the bandage on the sedated crew member''s arm. "Do you not feel their pain? Can you not see the fear on their faces?"


    She met Maris''s gaze directly, her voice dropping to a quiet intensity that demanded attention. "Survival alone isn''t enough."


    The words hung in the air between them, carrying weight beyond their simple meaning.


    Maris considered pressing further, but eventually decided against it. Lyara was stubborn, and nothing she could say would change the mule''s mind.


    As she moved to the supply cabinet, a strange sensation began to overwhelm her senses. She couldn''t make sense of it at first, so she proceeded to empty the supply cabinet as instructed. Removing each emergency medical kit and tossing it towards the center of the room, the sensations intensified and began to solidify into a single thought.


    What''s in that drawer?


    Her attention was drawn to a locked drawer in an adjacent nurses'' station. She abandoned her assignment at the supply cabinet and wandered over to the mysterious drawer. She grasped the handle and attempted to open it, only to encounter resistance.


    Locked. I need a key, or something I can use to pry it open.


    Lyara noticed the girl pulling at the drawer, "Maris, what''s happening?"


    "There''s something in this drawer." Maris sounded far more reserved than usual; her pupils were fully dilated, and her breath was coming in quick, short breaths. "Lyara, something essential is in this drawer. Help me open it!"


    Before Lyara could respond, a clamor coming from the entrance to the medical bay stole their attention. A security officer had burst through the door, stumbling to the floor. His uniform was ripped and covered in blood. A deep gash ran across the entirety of his chest. Ribs were visible through the open wound, and his voice was fading.


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    "Infected! Infected are coming!" Fear was the only emotion the man felt. Fear of death, fear of mutilation. Fear of infection. "Infected personnel from Deck Four are heading this way, at least a dozen of them!"


    The security officer''s breaths were short, gurgling as they escaped his lips, a clear sign that his lungs were filling with fluid. A cough escaped his lips, and blood sputtered to the floor. On his hands and knees, he fell to the ground. His breathing stopped, and the light left his eyes.


    Dead.


    Lyara moved closer to the door, and Maris would have to wait. She drew a deep breath, focusing on the impending danger. She drew her sword, a brilliant rapier that shone with a brilliant blue light. The blade hummed, pulsating with energy that poured into the space around it.


    Mercy''s Edge emanated a warm glow that brought comfort to everyone around her. Nerves calmed, and fear was suppressed to all within reach of the beautiful aura.


    Maris was busily searching for anything she could use to tear open the drawer.


    As the corrupted crew advanced down the corridor towards the medical bay, Lyara stood her ground. The rest of the medical staff continued to work frantically, preparing the wounded for movement.


    Lyara took a stance, one foot in front of the other, hips and shoulders pointed at the incoming horde. Her rapier was pointed straight forward, and her back hand held out behind her. She looked elegant and strong, ready to take on any monster that came her way.


    As the first corrupted got within range, she moved with grace and surprising speed. She defied the limits of human ability, the blade appearing as a blur as it swung in wide arcs.


    The blade sank its teeth into its first victim, but oddly enough, it did not cut flesh. The blade cut clean through the corruption, evaporating it in a cloud of ash. Human flesh appeared intact underneath the gaping wound in the corruption.


    One doctor looked at the sight with wide eyes. "How? What is that weapon?"


    "Something from another time and reality," Lyara answered.


    "What is happening to them?" a nurse asked from her left, her hand covering her mouth at the gruesome sight.


    "The blade separates corruption from flesh, but can''t repair the damage to their minds and souls." Lyara was somber, her tone reserved. "I can''t save those who have already been consumed."


    She continued to move and slash until each crew member was cleared of the corruption. Unfortunately, they had been ravaged by the disease, beyond her weapons'' ability to purify them. Each crew member lay dead, but no longer a carrier of the vile infection.


    With the corridor cleared, Lyara returned to Maris, who had found a medical tool that she was using to try and pry the drawer open.


    "Here, let me." Lyara put her hand on the drawer, touching the lock. A soft white glow ignited on her palm, like a flame of pure snow. The lock clicked open, and Maris was finally able to claim her prize.


    Inside was a peculiar-looking device—a series of metallic segments connected by a thin braided line, each segment ending in a fang-like barb. She gingerly reached out her hand and grasped the handle end of the whip, causing the strange contraption to spring to life. It wrapped itself around her arm like a living being, coiling around it like a snake.


    Maris'' eyes glowed, the happiest Lyara had ever seen the girl. "Mercy''s Teeth," she said with awe.


    "We need to finish preparing the group to leave. Elias''s group should be sending us the signal any moment now." Lyara spoke as she returned to her preparations.


    The preparations continued without incident; everyone was on a gurney that needed it, and all of the medical supplies were loaded on the lower racks.


    The second Chosen One in Lyara''s group had been growing increasingly agitated over the past hour. Twice, Lyara had noticed them staring at the walls as if seeing something no one else could, lips moving in silent conversation. Now they were watching intently, gaze fixed on the artifacts that Lyara and Maris held, pupils constricted to pinpoints despite the dim lighting.


    When a medical device clattered to the floor, they flinched violently, hands trembling as they pressed them against their ears. Lyara felt their gaze burning into her, and when she turned to look them in the eye, she saw something fractured in their expression.


    "You shouldn''t have chosen this group, volunteer." The other''s voice was cold, full of icy contempt and malice, their words coming in an unnatural rhythm punctuated by shallow breaths. "None of us should be. This isn''t just a historical scenario—it''s a trap. The Judge speaks to me even now. Haunting my thoughts."


    Lyara stepped closer, "What do you mean? What is he saying to you?!" her voice raised, alarm dripping from every word. "How could the Maw''s trial be a trap?!"


    The other Chosen one sat on the floor, knees pulled into their chest, rocking back and forth. "The Fallen World knows. The Fallen World has found us... It''s going to kill us all. It knows... IT KNOWS!" Her hand clutched her head, pulling on her own hair. Her sanity was slipping.


    Before Lyara could process her words, a single black droplet fell from the ceiling, sizzling as it hit the floor between them. It spread outward like spilled ink, forming intricate patterns that pulsed with unnatural life.


    The ceiling trembled. Then split.


    A face—human yet horribly wrong—pushed through the opening, its features inverted and rearranged. Dozens of eyes blinked independently across stretched skin as a forest of arms extended downward, each limb terminating in surgical tools fused directly to flesh. The thing that had once been the ship''s head surgeon smiled with three separate mouths as it descended upon the survivors.


    "The doctor," whispered the broken Chosen One, "is ready to see you now."
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