Uzi slowly opened his eyes; the scent of flowers flooded his nose, thick and sweet, almost cloying. A wet cough rattled beside him. He turned his head, wincing at the pull in his shoulder, and saw an old man in the next bed; he couldn't have been younger than seventy, skin papery, veins like blue rivers under translucent flesh. A vase of vibrant blooms sat on the nightstand, petals bright against the dim room, their perfume heavy enough to taste.
The guilt slammed into Uzi like a fist. Everything he'd failed to stop; the kingdom burning, souls twisted, Rathra's laugh echoing in the dark. He had to fix it. Had to.
He pushed up on his good arm; pain exploded through his shoulder, white-hot, buckling his strength. A sharp cry escaped before he could choke it back, and he collapsed onto the pillow, breath sawing in and out.
Boots pounded in the hall. A younger guy in a yellow doctor's coat burst through the door, eyes wide, stethoscope swinging. He took one look at Uzi gasping and bolted back out, shouting something muffled down the corridor.
Ten seconds later; exactly ten, Uzi counted in the haze; Dr. Elara Voss stepped in, blue glasses glinting under the harsh light. Her coat was crisp, her expression a mix of stubborn worry and nerdy triumph.
"Up already?" she squeaked, marching to his bedside with clipboard in hand. "Fascinating recovery curve, but reckless! Lie still; your sutures are fresh, and that shoulder's a biomechanical disaster waiting to happen."
Uzi gritted his teeth, the flowers' scent suddenly suffocating. "I don't have time."
"You have exactly the time your body allows," she countered, already checking the bandage with gentle, precise fingers. "Now breathe; I need to assess inflammation levels before you even think about heroics."
Dr. Voss set the clipboard aside with a decisive click; her squeaky voice turned brisk as she adjusted her blue glasses. "Right; tests first. We'll start with vitals; pulse, blood pressure, oxygen saturation. Hold still."
She clipped a small sensor to his finger; a machine beside the bed beeped softly, numbers flickering on a glowing screen. Uzi watched, fascinated; the device hummed with a faint blue light, wires snaking to a panel that displayed wavy lines and digits in real time. Next came a cuff around his arm; it inflated with a hiss, squeezing tight before deflating, the screen updating with more readings. "Heart rate's elevated; not surprising after that episode," she muttered, scribbling notes.
Then she wheeled over a cart laden with tools; a handheld scanner that she passed over his chest and shoulder, emitting a low whir as it projected holographic grids onto his skin, mapping bruises and fractures in glowing red outlines. "Ultrasound probe next; non-invasive, but it'll feel cold." She applied a gel to a wand-like device and pressed it gently against his ribs; the attached monitor bloomed with grainy images of bones and tissues, swirling in shades of gray. Uzi winced at the chill, but his eyes stayed locked on the screen; shapes shifted like living shadows inside him.
"Reflexes and motor function," she announced, tapping his knee with a small hammer; his leg jerked involuntarily. She repeated it on his arms, knuckles, even his splinted foot, noting each twitch. A pinprick test followed; tiny needles testing sensation across his limbs, charting numbness or pain on her chart. Finally, she drew a vial of blood with a swift needle jab; the tube filled crimson, and she fed it into a compact analyzer that whirred and spat out results in seconds; chemical levels, mana traces, all scrolling in neat columns.
"Remarkable resilience," Dr. Voss said, her nerdy enthusiasm bubbling up as she reviewed the data. "Mana depletion's minimal now; fractures knitting faster than textbooks predict. But this..." She trailed off, wheeling a full-length mirror over from the corner; its frame hummed faintly, edges glowing as if powered. "Look."
Uzi sat up slower this time, ignoring the ache; he stared into the reflective surface. A massive scar slashed across his new body; ragged and puckered, starting at his shoulder where Rathra's dagger had bitten deep, carving down to his hip in a jagged line, pink and raw against pale skin. Smaller scars webbed his knuckles; crisscross burns from the knight's poison, healed but twisted like lightning strikes.
Dr. Voss's eyes widened behind her glasses; her squeaky voice pitched higher in disbelief. "How in the realms did this happen? That scar's like nothing I've seen; it's not just trauma, it's... infused. Energy residue all over, like you wrestled a storm elemental bare-handed. And those knuckles; poison burns, sure, but the healing pattern's accelerated; flabbergasting! You should be bedridden for weeks, yet here you are, coherent and stubborn." She leaned in, caring hands hovering as if to trace the marks without touching. "Tell me; what force did this? It defies every medical model I know."
Uzi barely heard her; his gaze flicked from the scars to the devices around the room; the glowing screens, the humming analyzers, the holographic projections. "This technology... I've never seen anything like it. Where I'm from, healing's done with herbs and spells; no machines that... that read your insides like a book. How does it work?"
Dr. Voss blinked, her stubborn frown melting into a delighted grin; she adjusted her glasses with a nerdy flourish. "Ah, a curious one! It's mana-tech fusion; Cascade Kingdom's specialty. The scanners use attuned crystals to interface with bio-energy fields; pulls data like a spell but processes it through circuits. Revolutionary; I could lecture for hours on the schematics. But first, answers; how did you end up scarred like a battlefield relic?"
Uzi's mouth opened; then shut. The scars stared back at him like accusations. He looked away, fingers curling into the sheetsheet. "It's... complicated. Not sure you'd believe me."
Dr. Voss planted her hands on her hips, stubborn chin jutting. "Try me. I just watched your bones knit in real time. My disbelief is on vacation."
Uzi exhaled through his nose; the flower scent clung to the back of his throat. He opened his mouth again, searching for a lie that wouldn't sound insane, when Dr. Voss raised a finger.
"Fine. Story for story." She pulled the rolling stool closer, sat with a squeak of wheels. "This world; it's a patchwork. Hundreds of realms smashed together like driftwood on a shore. Most are pocket-sized; a valley here, a floating island there. But six are continents unto themselves. The one Rathra's crew just torched? The Imperial Nation. Medieval fantasy realm; castles, knights, the whole tapestry. Pulled in maybe 2,000 years ago."
She ticked points off on her fingers, nerdy excitement overriding protocol. "We're in the Cascade Kingdom; used to be twenty-first-century Spain, or close enough. The buildings, the wiring, the aqueducts; all pre-existing. We just moved in, slapped mana crystals into the sockets, and called it home. Trade between the big six is rarer than honest politicians. One realm's rumored to be five centuries ahead; gleaming towers, no gates, no visitors. Nobody in, nobody out."
She leaned forward, glasses flashing. "Your turn. Scars that big don't come from paper cuts."
Uzi's mind reeled. He had been the gatekeeper; souls petitioning, realms judged from on high. Down here he knew nothing; not the taste of the air, not the weight of a coin, not why machines sang instead of spells. His tongue felt thick. He really didn't know the world he helped create.
Dr. Voss snapped her fingers an inch from his nose. "Focus. Story."
Before he could scrape words together, the door banged open. The yellow-coated doctor skidded in, breathless. "Dr. Voss, I'm so sorry; he just walked in and-"
Guntic followed, cane tapping slow and deliberate. His eyes were sharp despite the slump i on his shoulders. "Easy, Elara. Kid's been through a war and a half. Give him air."
Dr. Voss bristled, but the fight leaked out of her at Guntic's steady gaze. She huffed, adjusting her glasses. "Fine. But answers eventually, or I'll hook him to the full diagnostic array and read his memories like a damn book."
Guntic's mouth twitched; the closest thing to a smile Uzi had seen on him. "Deal. First, though; breakfast. Real food beats IV drips." He glanced at Uzi. "Are you ready to stand, or do you want the chair?"