Chương 57: Outcome

Burning. That's what they never tell anyone about the limb loss. The burning. Amputees don't like to discuss it, either due to trauma putting the words in gridlock or because it was so excruciating the brain had simply excised the sensation in retrospect. This was not retrospect yet. May was feeling it here and now. Her leg was gone. She was under assault by horrible things of wood and death. Her only aid was in a feral frenzy, unable to parse her words or even try to pay more attention to them.

Didn't want to hurt her, but wasn't listening to her requests to flee. All she could do was keep contact with the comms team the whole time. She explained how she managed to cauterize the wounds of the only surviving agent. That one would likely never get his arm back. They wouldn't have enough time to surgically attach it. With her blood everywhere, she was panicked about a bleed-out more than anything else.

That's when she remembered how she was able to focus the reflection of light from her blood into spearpoints and impale one of those beasts. While she couldn't see the wound on her shin and below due to her position, she could at least point it towards some of the pooled blood. The burning was already there, the intense heat she was having focused on it from lensed, longer wavelength light. Hot enough to burn carbon dioxide, it flash-burnt the wound.

As crude a cauterization she could do, it was the best bet she had to avoid bleeding out. She redirected more to burn the wound on her severed leg closed as well, out of some delusion it could be reattached. It probably couldn't, but she had to try. And it distracted her from the pain as it sharpened into a needlepoint in her brain, every sensation in her body screaming to both die and live. When a second one of those wooden beasts attacked, a blur of blue-and-orange sent it flying away.

Her ally, finally saving her life. The soundscape was the worst. Just breaking and crunching of wood, it almost sounded like squelching meat. All she hoped was no more would be summoned, as she felt her consciousness fading............... Light, everywhere. Her body instinctively told her all available spots to bend and shape it. It was as though she had millions of little hands, caressing the light and waiting for her request to grab, squeeze, contort it all into whatever way she wanted.

This sensation always lingered in her, and with the lack of pain rocking her body, she had enough focus to let them sit in silence. The light softened in her gaze, allowing forms to return, and voices along with them.

"She's waking up!" She knew that voice. That was her friend, Sam's. Internally she thanked whatever was listening for making sure someone she trusted was there to help.

"As expected." Another voice. Huskier. Agent Lafeuillade. Tancred called her Morgan. Their forms became clearer and clearer. Sam's face was streaked in red. Tears practically burned onto her cheeks. Her eyes were pinkish, more apparent thanks to the magnification of her glasses. The doctor's features were strained and beset by fear and anguish. Lafeuillade's face was inscrutable, unmarked by emotion and eyes hidden behind her sunglasses.

The only sign of her not being a statue was her hand carrying her pipe as she wiggled it between her fingers. As May began to sit up, Sam rested a hand on her shoulder to keep her settled.

"H-hey hey, take it easy, okay, May? We just finished emergency treatment." Lafeuillade reached out behind May, loosing a mechanism that slowly brought the bed she was lying on up into a semi-vertical recline instead of completely horizontal.

"Keep yourself laid against the bed. Just sitting you up so that you can look at us more comfortably." She then looked towards something out of May's view, curling her finger towards whatever it was. Scraping sounds and blurs of black. Sam yelped as she was suddenly sitting on a stool, as was the auditor.

"Please warn me next time before you do that," Sam pleaded.

"You're fine," Lafeuillade dismissed as she turned her focus back to May.

"Could you please tell me how you're feeling? If you're able to speak, that is." May's throat scratched out the words. It wasn't agonizing, but far more effort than normal was required to get the words out.

"I..." She audited her body's sensations. Soreness, of course. Some mild ringing in her ears, probably from screaming in pain at one point that her mind had done her the kindness of eschewing from her memory. Shame it didn't do the same for the burning sensation of her lower left shin. That had managed to lessen at least. Just a dull itch, almost rash-like. Her eyes refused to look down towards the area, regardless of sensation. She didn't want an answer on that yet. She'd ask when she was ready.

"... I could be better, I guess. Couldn't even tell you if that was the worst thing that even happened during the raid." Sam's frown deepened, while Lafeuillade simply took a draw of her pipe before continuing to speak.

"You've experienced things that your mind wasn't ready for. That is, unfortunately, always the first step of the veil being lifted. You've been put at a crossroads of choosing to move past the lifted veil, or lower it with the knowledge you have and praying you never learn further." May's gaze turned to the auditor, neck too sore to really snap her focus over.

"That's what you have to tell me?

'Sorry you saw things so much worse than anything you've ever understood in your life, either you keep going or you quit?'" The anger was a good lubricant to get past the dry throat. She could only appreciate it, for once. Morgan took another draw of her pipe, letting the smoke avalanche out of her nostrils as she spoke.

"Would you prefer I lie to you, May Hart? Because I save lying for the rules of the world. I'm telling you the truth now so that you can decide your own path. If you wanted to quit from this, you would be in the right. If you wanted to make sure you were the last person to experience this, you would also be right." Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Sam's voice stuttered out into the air, making itself an unwelcome guest.

"I-I don't think that's a fair thing to immediately bring up after an emergency surgery, Agent Lafeuillade." The agent barked her back into her place.

"There's nothing fair about any of this, Doctor."

"D-Dr. -""I know how you choose your name. Recognize the power in why I choose to not let it air correctly. You do not deserve your animus' recognition at this moment. You have been in panic this whole time, unbeholden to your role on your team and even more unbeholden to your role as a healer-" WHAP Sam's palms hit the bed, missing May's legs by a hair.

"I didn't ask for this! I just wanted to learn more about the world! I bet you were in the exact same position as me, so why are you bringing me down when we've both been dragged into this? We're not even the focus of this conversation!" The agent took another, slow drag of her pipe. This time, the smoke left her lips, blowing into Sam's face and making her recoil.

"We have never been in the same position, child. I've killed over being compared to better things than you. And if we're not the focus of this conversation, then learn your place and sit back until you can watch your temper. Do you think May needs this stress right now?" She gestured to May, who had been watching like a deer in headlights. Old memories boiled hot in her. Now was the time she wanted to know.

"What happened to my leg?" Untargeted. Anyone could answer. The walls could tell her the news if they had to. Sam's face sat sullen from the lecture she received, but it only got worse with that question. She was failing to give the right answer. Lafeuillade, however, never had such a problem in her life.

"We attempted to recover and reattach it, but it seems whatever severed it left this little pestilence of endlessly growing barbs. Your cauterization interrupted the worst of it and prevented the limb from being totally lost. However, it was unrecoverable as a direct limb." May's stomach sank.

"But it was still compatible biological material. I used what remained to regrow approximately one third of the missing part. I am unable to reform the rest due to my own materials being in low supply. I wasted too much from recent emergencies." Weakly, the hero—worried she may become the former hero—mumbled out another question.

"Low supply...?"

"I normally use parts of my own body. Flesh that can regenerate from my liver, or my spleen as Samantha had discovered for nervous tissue. I have used much recently in the past two weeks. My body cannot give up more without putting my own health in peril. Despite your situation, I cannot justify potentially destroying my immune system to get you back to full capacity instantly."

May could not control the tears coming from her eyes, her body losing its ability to even try to hold itself up as her head sank to one side.

"Do not despair." It was too late for that; May was already despairing.

"You will not be without your leg forever, in optimal conditions."

"W-what do you mean by optimal?"

"There are some rituals for restoration, but it will take some time for me to prepare those, as some will require my own flesh regardless. That will need to regenerate first. That will take at least a month. Those may not be viable if your body does not want to heal however." Fighting to breathe through sinuses that were inflamed from the stress, May blubbered out another question.

"Why would I not want my leg back?"

"Your body. Not you. Two separate things. Have you ever seen cats or dogs with lost limbs? They adapt and move just fine. They are primarily of body, and as such lose the desire for the limb typically. Not all. Some still desire wholeness. If your body still desires wholeness at that point, we can rejuvenate you."

"A-and if I can't...?"

"That is not final. I have one last ritual that will, with great guarantee, work. But you must understand, if we do this one, it will not come for free. You will pay a price. I am unaware of the price presently. It will require communion and research. It could be small, like the glint in your eyes when you smile, or the price could be great and demand to take six years of your joy."

"I don't-""You don't need to be ready to accept now. We are still waiting. Take this time to consider your options. See if you can adapt. Your companion here may lack spine as a healer, but her brain should allow her to devise some means of compensation for that time." With that, Agent Lafeuillade stood from her stool and made her way to the door. She stopped at it, before pointing her pipe at Sam.

"Should you ever compare my life — one you can never comprehend, one you have never experienced, one you will never understand one angstrom of — to yours again, I will kill you on the spot. It is only by favor curried with Abichail that you have not made an enemy for life with me." She opened the door, passed through, and with a SLAM The walls shook as door met frame. Sam let out a shuddery breath, dragging the sleeve of her labcoat across her forehead to free it from sweat.

"I'm so sorry, May," she muttered out, half of a sob.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Dr. -""It's my fault. All of this is. I was on the committee for planning the raid, since I'm your equipment specialist. I wanted there to be surveillance devices so that we could observe you directly and make better judgement calls. I said it'd take some time, and would put us a week past that raid time." She sighed.

"Tancred said no. He liked the idea but knew if we took too long there might be an attack. I didn't stand my ground. If I were able to watch you guys, maybe..."

"Sam, no-" May interrupted.

"You and Tancred both had... you both had reasons to decide things. There was no way any of us could predict what happened. I just..." A sob interrupted her before she could continue.

"I just didn't predict this. I didn't want to predict this, this wasn't what I was told would happen. I wanted to be a superhero. Fly down, scare off some bad guys, make differences where the police or the lawyers or any regular person can't. Nothing we did was what a superhero does, Sam. This isn't what I wanted." Sam began to open her mouth to speak before May continued.

"But I can't just quit either. I still want to help people, and I know they're not going to let my leg be fixed if I just walk out. They wouldn't do that for me for free. And Agent Lafeuillade probably hates us even more than Tancred does, so she wouldn't help us for free." The ensuing pregnant pause sat in the air, ready to give birth to the elephant that would then sit in the room. Sam finally decided to address it.

"I don't know what to tell you. I used to always have an answer for things, May, but so much has happened that I just... I don't have any precedent for. There's no textbook on 'How to console your friend who lost her leg fighting terrorists because the government played on her expectations of being a superhero' or 'An abstract on how to guarantee bloodless superhero missions every time.' This is all my first time. I can't make you pick anything." The dr.

looked up at May, reaching out and giving her shoulder a squeeze.

"I can't tell you the right answer here. I'm so sorry. This is something you have to decide for yourself." Samantha then clambered off of her stool, walking meekly out of the room. This time, the door clattered shut with little ado. No shaking of the walls. The only things shaking were May's own hands.