Chapter 6: Where It Hurts Most.
Ian calmly swept the floor in the lobby with a broom that looked like it had seen better days.
Though, he hadn't moved much, as he'd been spaced out for the past five minutes.
Ryn sat close by, simply doing his own thing.
Though, he had noticed Ian lagging behind in his thoughts, he decided not to intervene.
Ian was, of course, thinking of his hands.
His dreamy eyes looking at them every now and then as he was lost in thought, as if to remind himself of yesterday.
"What was that?" echoed in his mind as he curled his fingers.
Though, as if slapped on the cheek, he was brought back to reality as a loud explosion sounded somewhere.
Ryn automatically flared up as the cases and tables started vibrating, bracing for an incoming shockwave that ended up knocking Ian off the floor.
Ian only saw the familiar ceiling he had been living under for the past month or so. After blinking a little, he sat up.
Ryn stood up, clearly concerned. "Are you alright, sir?"
Ian tried calming down, but it was as if his pupils were shaking.
After successfully calming himself, he stood up and dusted off his clothes.
"Yeah… what the hell was that?" he asked, looking over at Ryn as he spoke.
Charlotte ran out to the lobby from down the hall.
"What just happened?!" she asked, looking questioningly at Ryn and Ian, panting as if she had just run a marathon.
Ryn spoke before Ian could answer, taking control of the situation. "We aren't sure. I'll go check, so stay here."
Ryn rushed outside.
As he left, Ian could tell he was trying his best to act calm.
But he could see from the sweat on his face that he was as concerned as Ian and Charlotte.
Suddenly, a second explosion was heard. The lamps dangled, then all went out.
Only the windows were letting light into the lobby.
Charlotte looked up with wide eyes. Ian followed her gaze as the light disappeared.
Luckily, it was still daylight outside, so they could see.
And there wasn't anyone to be treated at the moment.
Ian was clearly bracing for the second shockwave, though this explosion didn't seem as powerful as the first.
The first one had been enough to make Ian remember World War II movies from his life on Earth.
"What was that first shockwave?" he thought.
As if reading his mind, Charlotte asked the same just as he was about to speak.
"Why was this one weaker?" she said, her eyes drifting to the windows, cautiously observing the city outside.
"I… I'm not sure," he responded, his tone wary, as if sensing something was off.
The door stood wide open.
"Didn't Ryn close the door behind him?" Charlotte walked over to it.
Ian clenched his fists. He knew he couldn't do anything.
There were still screams outside. The now-crushed windows of houses lay on the ground.
Ian could hear Charlotte's breathing getting louder as she looked out the open door.
But just as he was about to speak, a person stumbled in through the door.
"Please help!" it cried. It was a woman carrying a child, her voice broken and clearly full of concern.
The child was hurt, bleeding from the side of his stomach. Charlotte took a deep breath and spoke.
"Follow me." She stood up and quickly led them to a room.
Ian followed close behind, though the sound of screaming didn't get any better even as they moved away from the explosion.
He could see that the boy was unconscious as he walked behind the woman.
6.1. I Want To Throw Up.
Charlotte put the boy on the hospital bed, adjusting it quickly so it was high enough.
She placed her hands over him, attempting to heal him. But it was no use. His wounds were too deep for Charlotte to heal.
"Ian, get my bandages."
Ian perked up and flew across the room, rooting through the shelves and drawers until he found a roll.
He handed it over. Charlotte took it with shaky hands, dropping it by mistake.
"Shit…" she cursed as she picked the roll up.
Charlotte carefully wrapped the bandage around the boy's wounds. But they were ugly.
None of the three wanted to say it, but it was clear she wasn't sure she could fix it.
Ian thought back to yesterday. Could he do it again?
He felt the weight of the moment settle over him, heavier than anything he had experienced before.
The screams outside, the chaos of the city, the child's shallow breathing, all of it pressed on him, demanding a choice.
His hands tingled. The memory of the boy's pain burned in his mind. His chest tightened.
His stomach clenched as though he had been punched. Every instinct told him not to do it.
But he knew he couldn't stand by.
"Charlotte. Take off the bandages," he said, his tone serious, something unusual coming from him.
"Are you crazy?! He's gonna—" Charlotte was cut off as Ian removed them himself.
Though, she was too stunned to interfere.
Ian placed his hand on the wound, and it slowly started closing and healing.
Pain hit him instantly. Sharp, stabbing, unbearable. It was as if a knife had been driven through his kidney.
Every breath flared the agony hotter. His stomach churned, threatening to turn his stomach inside out.
Ian grunted as he did so, his left eye twitching slightly. His breathing quickened, but he didn't remove his hand.
Charlotte had never been told of his power.
Since Ryn had acted that way, Ian was simply too scared. It had to be dangerous somehow.
But still, here he stood, absorbing the boy's pain right in front of the person he had promised Ryn he wouldn't tell or show.
Charlotte rushed through her drawers until she found an orb. She pointed it at Ian.
"No mana detected..." She stuttered silently.
The orb she was holding was the same mana scanner they had used previously. Otherwise, it was used to detect mana corruptions or shortages when treating others.
The stabbing agony radiated through his side and back. Waves of nausea rolled through him, twisting his muscles in knots.
His hands and arms trembled under the strain. Sweat poured down his face, stinging his eyes.
Ian fell back as he finished, landing on his butt on the floor, panting and sweating.
No one dared to speak. Charlotte looked as shocked as the person who was most likely the boy's mother.
Charlotte finally decided to break the silence. "Ian… what was that?"
Ian sat silently, not even getting up. A part of him was relieved, but another part felt guilty. He had saved the boy, but he had also gone against Ryn's word.
"That's a secret," he finally whispered. As he looked up, clearly exhausted, he added, "Was I… useful to you?"
Charlotte didn't say anything. But she didn't need to. She looked ready to cry. He didn't know why. She probably didn't know either.
They looked at each other until she spoke.
"Yes… yes, you were useful." She rubbed her eyes with her forearm.
Was this some form of pity?
The screams outside had died down at this point.
The real reason he didn't get up was because he couldn't. His body ached as if he had felt the boy's pain in the places the boy had been hurt.
"Whatever that was… you saved his life…" Charlotte exhaled, reassuringly.
Ian suddenly felt an immense pain in the side of his stomach. It seemed the full effect was delayed.
It was a twisting, burning agony, stabbing through him like he had been attacked.
Every nerve felt on fire. His legs shook and his stomach turned, threatening to betray him at any second.
"I wanna throw up... It hurts… it hurts… it hurts…" wandered in his mind.
He knew this was only the beginning.
This power, whatever it was, could save lives, but it came at a cost. A price he wasn't sure he could keep paying.
Ians head was spinning round and round from the pain.
6.2What Now?
Ians brain had a hard time processing it and accidentally mixed it up with warmth.
His shirt stuck to his chest and stomach as his sweat trailed down.
Charlotte was busy with the child, the mother was also concerned.
Eventually, Charlotte noticed Ians sweaty state and his ragged breathing from the floor.
"Are you alright?" She put a hand on his forehead. "You're practically burning up from the inside..."
She noticed him clenching the side of his stomach.
"I have to tell you...something..." Ian whispered.
Charlotte got closer. As if telling him to continue.
"I can...absorb wounds..." He said in between breaths.
That was all Charlotte needed to know Ian was in as much pain as the boy was. Just not uncouncious.
Ian suddenly felt something drip on his shirt. Blood.
He had gotten a nose bleed.
"Lift your shirt." Charlotte commanded.
Ian did as she said.
"No wounds...weird." she felt over the side of his stomach before signaling she was done.
"See it more like I heal the wounds...but absorb the pain." Ian wiped his now bleeding nose.
He stood up, leaning against the counter.
He knew he made the right choice. Since his body was bigger, the wounds thar looked giant on the boy wouldn't deal as much damage on him since he was bigger than the boy.
Swift footsteps are heard in the lobby. Charlotte raised her hand, though once Ryn stepped inside the doorframe, she lowered it.
He had most likely sensed Charlotte's mana and found them.
Ryn looked around the room. Seeing Ian on the floor bleeding from his nose, then a healthy kid on a hospital bed.
His eyes darkened slightly as he put two and two together.
"You used it." He said. Eyes dead on Ian who was struggling to stand.
Charlotte perked up, her eyes widening. "You knew about this?!"
Before Ryn could reply, new footsteps were heard. Walking slowly through the lobby. Then through the hall.
Then, they stopped. A tall, broad figure stood there.
The light caught the sharp angles of his armor—or maybe it was just the way he carried himself.
He stopped, scanning the room slowly.
His gaze landed on Ian.
"Well… well. Ian," he said, his voice low, almost casual, but laced with a hidden menace.
Ian froze, clutching his stomach. Pain shot through him as if warning him to run.
Charlotte's hand tightened around a nearby tray, Ryn's fingers hovered near his sword—but neither moved yet.
"I see… you're already… busy," the man continued, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes glinting.
Ian swallowed hard. He wanted to speak, to move, to run… but he was rooted to the spot, every nerve screaming.
The figure took another slow step, boots clicking against the floor.
"I do hope you don't mind me dropping by unannounced," he added, tilting his head.
"Who...who are you...?" Ian stammered.
The man smirked. "I am the middle. The cataclysm. My name is Thar Blackspire."
Ryn quickly drew his sword, as if guarding the room. "Don't put a foot in here, or I will act."
Thar raised his hands. "Take it easy, Aegis. I only wanted to...stop by."
Ian moved forward. "How...do you know my name...?"
Thar laughed. As if humored from his question. "You've made quite the name for yourself in the city. The shattered hand knows everyone who climbs like you."
Ian continued questioning. "What do you want from me...?"
Thar's eyes drifted to Ryn's sword, as he put his middle finger on the tip of it to lower it. "Nothing. But, you did defeat some of our shards. Or was it your friend Aegis who did that?"
"Who's Aegis?" He asked himself, the thought echoing in his head.
"Well. I'll be taking my leave now. Don't want "Mrs. Solstice" to scold me for being late again." He turned around. Walking down the hall.
Just as the tension was at its highest, he stopped. "Just remember. We're always watching." Thar then continued walking. Officially exiting the clinic.
6.3 – Aftermath
The echo of Thar's footsteps lingered in the lobby long after he had gone.
Ian sank to the floor, pressing a hand to his stomach, trying to steady the trembling. Pain and adrenaline wrestled inside him, leaving him lightheaded.
Charlotte knelt beside him, eyes sharp but gentle. "Ian… are you going to be okay?"
He shook his head faintly, words failing him. He'd just seen a force unlike anything he'd imagined. And they knew him. They knew Ryn's name.
Ryn sheathed his sword slowly, the calm precision in his movements doing little to hide the tension in his shoulders.
His eyes followed the hall where Thar had exited, lingering on the shadow left behind. "The Middle," he murmured, voice low. "Thar Blackspire. Cataclysm… one of the Five Fingers. And he knows you now."
Ian's pulse quickened further, building upon his pain. "The Five Fingers… that's… bad, right?"
"Very," Ryn replied. "And now they've marked this clinic as a place of interest." He glanced at Charlotte, who had gone pale at the realization. "Which means we'll need to move carefully. No mistakes."
Ian's hands flexed unconsciously. The memory of the boy's pain, the agony he had absorbed, was still burning in his mind.
"Ryn… if they come back, I can… I might be able to help."
Ryn's gaze softened, but his tone was firm. "I will not allow you to put yourself in that kind of danger again. That power… whatever it is… is unstable. Even the smallest misstep could cost you more than your body can handle."
Charlotte added quietly, "We don't know everything about it yet… and if The Shattered Hand knows, they'll try to exploit it."
Ian swallowed hard. The room felt smaller suddenly, as if the weight of the Five Fingers pressed down on him.
And yet, somewhere deep inside, a spark of resolve ignited. If he had survived that, if he had saved that boy, maybe… maybe he could survive what was coming.
Ryn stepped closer, his hand brushing Ian's shoulder lightly. Not in comfort, but in assessment. "You've crossed a line today.
A line you weren't ready for. But the world doesn't wait for readiness, Ian. You'll have to learn quickly."
Ian nodded weakly, his chest heaving. He could feel the lingering echo of pain in his body, but more than that… he could feel the danger outside the walls, the shadow of the Shattered Hand stretching closer.
And somewhere in the back of his mind, a single thought repeated:
The Middle knows me. And now, they're coming for more.
Ian wobbles slightly on his feet, Ryn and Charlotte immediately turn their heads.
"Are you alright? You don't look so good."
Without warning, Ians conciousness starts fading, the overwhelming pain and the sudden tension exhausting him body way to far for its own good.
"Shit! Not again..." Charlotte swiftly catches him by having him lean against her before fully falling.