The first thing Liam noticed was that the medical wing was designed for efficiency.
The entire wing had been built around rapid assessment, layered containment, and the assumption that whoever entered might be carrying damage no ordinary physician understood yet.
Considering the people currently inside it, that assumption had proven wise.
Arik sat on the edge of the central examination platform while two Nurian physicians studied the ether escaping through the cracks in his hands. Gold projections moved over his arms, repeatedly attempting to trace channels that did not properly exist.
Mezos occupied the next station, one sleeve removed while a physician inspected the black bruising across his shoulder where the Gate had thrown him through the threshold.
Kamal sat upright in a reinforced chair with a breathing field around his chest, looking personally insulted by assisted oxygen.
