Sharp, white-hot pain.
It tore through you before you could even understand it. A quiet scream slipped from your open mouth while your knee slammed into the ground.
Your vision tightened, then widened. Back and forth, the edges of it blackening.
You wrenched your hand out of the man's pocket.
His phone and wallet came out with the pull, dragged free in the same motion. You leaned back hard, your spine knocking awkwardly against your piece. Then you yanked the remaining medical supplies off his chest.
They lifted from your grip the instant you willed it.
You hooked your fingers under your top and dragged it up. Your gloves came off the next second, dropping without care onto the dirty floor. Your hood came off right after.
You pressed two fingers gently along the wound. A pained gasp left your mouth as you covered the length of it.
You willed it again.
The medical bag split apart midair without warning. Individual packages, smeared in blood, hovered in front of you. A thin film of water formed around them—first a sheen, then a harsh, clear layer. It pulled the blood away, washing it off in swirling ribbons until the plastic turned mostly clean.
You opened your palm and water thickened above it, coagulating into a trembling mass before spilling down your fingers.
You washed your hands the best you could.
You tore one floating package open with your teeth and yanked the gauze free, stuffing it into your side. A bottle of saline solution uncapped itself and washed the surrounding skin, soaking through your attire and painting your clothes pink.
Above you, the amber light draped the man's outline in a dull glow. The machinery hummed somewhere outside, drowning out your thoughts.
For every inch pressed in, it stung, your ribs protesting every touch, forcing you to take shallow breaths.
More.
And more.
Until a pad was pressed over the wound, wrapped tight with cloth around your waist while you took deep breaths, keeping the pressure constant and firm.
Your hands, painted red. Black minerals contracting across your fingers and the back of your hand.
You took a moment to catch your breath before ripping out a cleaner strip of cloth, using it to wipe yourself down, finding yourself shivering from the cold.
You reached to your right side, inside a stuffed white pouch. Two bright blood pills rose into the air from it, hovering in front of you.
The lingering taste of copper and salt permeated your senses, so you wiped your lips with the back of your glove, the metal plate stitched onto it smearing with the scent of decay.
You tossed them into your mouth, the dull flavor dragging over your taste buds.
You lifted your left hand and saw your silver bracelet bouncing the broken light. The time and date glowed white across the small screen.
You cupped your hands and water filled them from below, a kneading sensation coming and going behind your eyes until the bowl was full.
glup!—Hahh...
Water spilled from your mouth and ran down your chin, soaking into your top.
You closed your eyes for a moment, your head leaning back.
The empty medical packaging ignited into flames mid-fall before collapsing inward, snuffing into black tar that splattered against the ground.
You shook your head and opened your eyes once more, throwing a glance toward the entrance. Leaning forward, you took the phone and rummaged through the wallet, finding nothing of value inside.
A sigh left your mouth and you seized his hand, using his pointer finger and pressing it against the home button.
Nothing. Three more times, then you swiped up and punched in a random assortment of numbers.
It worked.
tap...tap tap.
The lock screen dissolved and the home screen slid into place, its background glaring at you.
You sifted through the apps for several seconds, sending everything you could to your bracelet. A small red bell rang on the bracelet's screen for each transferred file.
Ding~!
A notification dropped from the top.
Hesitantly, you tapped the message and a group chat took over.
Another message. Or notice, in this case.
「XXX has left the chat.」
A cluster of nine people hovered near the top, losing one the next moment, then again.
Not even a second later, a small time code appeared above the phone inside a red box, the counter ticking up.
00:00:03
00:00:04
00:00:05
It was you, recording just in case.
whummm…
The group conversation faded away, leaving you alone with your thoughts while you scrolled up. Again, the fan bearings stifled everything, drowning out the depot and your breathing.
「Change of plans. We're meeting at XXX instead.」
Your finger paused over the past message, tracing the address with cold eyes.
Ding~!
A new message slid in.
「Chat unavailable.」
You switched apps and opened the map. You punched in the location and watched the route calculate, noting the distance and the turns you'd need to take from the main street.
whummm…
You stayed seated for a few more seconds, listening for footsteps, anything and everything. Meanwhile, every remaining file transferred to your bracelet until the red bell went silent.
With everything set and done, you planted a hand on the ground and pushed yourself up, pocketing the phone.
Only to stumble for a moment.
A second became several, and those bled into three long minutes.
In the far corner, away from the scattered supplies, the fallen lay beneath a harsh tarp. Damaged crates and rusted, bent rods had been dragged over them in a crude attempt at concealment.
The air returned to its stale stillness, dust floating through it.
You threw one last look at them, then turned and walked the way you came.
With a small flick of your fingers, your piece slid back to your side. You glanced at it once and its outline blurred. The obscured silhouette began to shimmer—more and more, warping like heatwaves on a summer day.
And.
When you crossed the doorframe.
tzrraak!
Lightning split the sky.
Rain crashed down in sheets.
Cold droplets slid down your hood, souring your mood and weighing your clothes against your skin.
Garbage littered the pavement in soggy heaps—plastic bags torn open near bins, paper flattened into pulp on the sidewalk. A shopping cart lay on its side near the curb, one wheel spinning lazily with the wind.
You raise your head to the sky and draw in a breath for every thump pulsing from your side.
Then back down. Your gaze follows the lonely figures staggering through the ruined street.
Even the one getting beaten on the far side of the metal fence.
You step down the heavy street while distant red and blue lights paint the horizon, where high-rises litter the sky.
More, then more.
The closer you get, the faster they scurry off, harsh coughing filling the air with blight. Their eyes run over you before fading away.
A man hunches beneath a broken station, hacking into his sleeve until his shoulders shake. Beside him, a child sits on an overturned crate, both small hands wrapped around a steaming paper cup with no lid.
Broken light cast between their gaze.
You followed where the child stares and find an armored vehicle crawling lazily down the dilapidated road.
It spewed out something and nothing at once.
Dissolution.
Death.