Solomon quickly and effectively cut Osprey out of the concrete as he wheeled him onto the stretcher himself.
Ten broken ribs, three shattered clean through.
Spine, fracture-dislocation through T6–T7 with a complete cord transection. No motor, no sensory below the mid-chest. He's functionally paralyzed from the chest down.
The spike went clean through the abdomen, traversed the diaphragm....
...
Solomon kept going, voice steady, unflinching. He spoke as if reading from a manual.
For minutes, he went on, enumerating what was left of a body that shouldn't still be breathing. Each word colder than the last.
As Solomon continued for another two minutes explaining all of Osprey's injuries,
Mr. N sighed. "Is this the fucking morgue?"
Solomon shrugged."By any textbook, he should be a corpse. But it's Osprey, so because of his core node being located in his adrenal glands, he's still alive.
Even right now he's stuck in a state of adrenaline and death. He's in sleep paralysis as we speak....
Mr. N saw nothing but war in his eyes, Mori really tried to kill Osprey....
Solomon looked at the battlefield, then looked up at the black birds circling. This made sense now. No wonder the buildings were all destroyed. Everything in this area was displaced. Only a battle between two Elite Guards of this caliber could cause this.
Mr. N whispered, speaking to himself," It's not your fault… everything is just falling apart… it's whatever, he'll be here soon."
Solomon pushed the stretcher, walking and thinking about his next course of action. His lieutenants were obedient, they did not speak. After witnessing the pressure that came from Epicurus it was as if they were invisible.
His two nurses were awestruck being in the presence of Mr. N. Especially after he just protected them from a known "+4000, Monster like Epicurus"
Maeve helped Vera clean up from what happened earlier. She was silent, stoic, and effective.
It was out of character. Maeve, the short brunette, was usually talkative, but he didn't question it. His other lieutenant, his fighter Karla, was naturally silent. Her black hair was tied in a bun. She walked with discipline, not getting in anyone's way, simply pushing the stretcher with Kage passed out, while Maeve pushed hers with Vera, who was still trembling.
Their eyes were dark. It was rather odd, but he tried not to think about it.
~he was here.
The more he tried not to think about it, however, the worse it got.
~its not a school play.
"Have you ever been to Jerusalem, Solomon?"
Mr. N asked a question.
Solomon, however, didn't hear it.
"Doesn't Maeve have green eyes? Why are her pupils black?"
Then Solomon started to sweat.
His heart sank deep into his gut.
The wheels of the stretcher squealed on the pavement, every sound too loud, too sharp.
To his left, Mr. N walked beside him, calm as ever.
But then
down the street, maybe fifty meters ahead
Solomon froze.
There he was.
Mr. N.
Same stride.
Same coat.
Same face.