The Allbright System - A Sci-Fi Progression LitRPG Story

– POV: Karania –

Karania watched as Thea lay on the ground, her eyes focused intently through the scope of her massive railgun.

'Uneasy movements despite high Finesse, severe headache despite high Resolve, difficulty pinpointing the enemy’s position despite her high Perception… What is happening here? Did she get hit by some sort of Ability without me noticing?'

Unable to discern just what exactly was going on with her friend, Karania immediately used her Ability. There was no use saving up resources and missing important clues as a result, after all.

‘Eyes Of A Medic.’

[Thea McKay]

[Health: Pristine - Tendency: Rapid Decline]

[Focus: Ë̷̳͇͍́̊̈̆̓̾͗̈̈̀̚r̶̠͔̹̥̺̯͍̘͓̫̾̇̿r̸͔̹̻͔̘̒̇ó̴̮́͑̑̀̕ṙ̵̛̮̫̺̫̣͖̮̩͇̍̉̿̿̐̅͌̑͝ - Tendency: Ë̷̳͇͍́̊̈̆̓̾͗̈̈̀̚r̶̠͔̹̥̺̯͍̘͓̫̾̇̿r̸͔̹̻͔̘̒̇ó̴̮́͑̑̀̕ṙ̵̛̮̫̺̫̣͖̮̩͇̍̉̿̿̐̅͌̑͝]

Her eyes widened in alarm at the concerning information presented by her Ability.

She rushed towards Thea and yelled, "Thea, wait!"

But before her words had fully left her mouth, she realised she was too late.

Karania, mid-motion and positioned slightly behind Thea, had a perfect vantage point of the proceedings.

As Thea pulled the trigger of the massive rifle in front of her, the Caliburn itself, a sleek and deadly piece of engineering, seemed to downright awaken to life and disgorge destruction on the world itself.

Karania could see the capacitors along the railgun’s length pulsate with a tremendous amount of energy, humming and crackling with overcharged electricity as they reached max capacity in a mere fraction of a second. The sound was a rising crescendo, like the threatening growl of a predatory beast, an electrifying symphony of power that set the very air quivering.

Then, only an instant later, with a cataclysmic release, the Caliburn fired.

The sound was monumental, a deep and resounding boom that seemed to reverberate through the very bones of the world. It was a sound that Karania felt in her chest, a shockwave of force that pressed against her like a physical wall, pushing her back several steps. To her eyes, the firing of the Caliburn was like witnessing a miniature sun being born — a blinding flash of light that erupted from the barrel, casting stark, fleeting shadows through the forest.

The slug, now unleashed, was an inevitability in motion — unstoppable, yet undeniably precise.

Propelled by the railgun’s magnetic field, it accelerated to hypervelocity in mere milliseconds. The air around the slug compressed violently, creating a powerful shockwave that raced outward, rippling leaves and sending smaller plants and debris scattering in a radial tempest from the gun’s position.

With the golden V-formed wedge of Thea's [Penetrative Shot] leading the way like a celestial harbinger, the slug cut through the massive azure tree trunks as if they were mere parchment.

Each tree it encountered was cleanly and effortlessly passed through, the raw kinetic energy of the projectile turning solid wood into splinters and vaporised sap in an instant. The azure foliage, usually so vibrant and alive, was left with gaping, smouldering - yet perfectly circular - wounds in the wake of the slug’s passage.

The air around the slug seemed to warp and twist in an ethereal dance, the immense heat generated by its hypersonic travel ionising the atmosphere into a dazzling, ephemeral trail of blue-white plasma, which crackled with violent bouts of electricity discharging randomly. This brilliant path, stark and otherworldly, etched a deadly, straight line through the forest.

As Karania watched, her breath caught, the world seemed to still for just a fraction of a moment around this scene of raw, directed power, orchestrated by her friend who now lay unmoving, on the ground, having focused solely on ensuring that this shot — this one, critical shot — found its mark.

For anyone not in a state of heightened perception due to a massive influx of adrenaline, such as Karania was experiencing at that moment, all that would have been visible was the sun-like explosion from the barrel and the subsequent impact. It would have left them wondering what exactly had caused the ionised pathway through the azure forest.

However, for those with sufficiently keen Perception or in the right circumstances, the impact was perceived as an inevitable consequence of calculated action, rather than a surprising happenstance.

As the slug reached its target, the invisible cloaking device deep within the forest, the impact was cataclysmic. The device, an intricate assembly of advanced tech housed on a utility truck, had no chance of withstanding the brutal force and extreme power of the Caliburn’s slug.

Instantaneously, the cloaking device erupted into a violent explosion, born from a combination of the raw kinetic power of the slug’s impact and its explosive payload, a brilliant fireball of orange and red that lit up the forest like a second sun. The shockwave sent debris flying in all directions, the concussive force flattening nearby trees and sending a palpable tremor through the ground. Karania could swear she saw at least a dozen shadows of bodies, or parts thereof, fly through the air as well.

As the cloaking device was obliterated, its carefully maintained stealth field collapsed like a shattered illusion.

Suddenly, where there once appeared to be nothing but dense forest, an entire army of Stellar Republic soldiers was revealed.

They were entrenched in well-fortified positions, with heavy weapon emplacements strategically placed among the trees and larger utility and close-range artillery vehicles tucked away deeper within their ranks. It was a veritable fortress hidden in plain sight, and now it lay exposed.

As the illusion vanished, all hell broke loose.

The 32nd, having been prepared for this moment, immediately opened fire.

The forest, just moments ago a place of serene beauty, was quickly transformed into a maelstrom of chaos and violence. Gunfire cracked through the air relentlessly, as rockets streaked ruthless paths through the air towards their targets, a cacophony of sound that seemed to blend into a continuous roar.

Amidst this chaos, Lucas acted swiftly and decisively, just as they had planned beforehand.

He rammed the Stalwart shield into the ground with a resonant clang, its defensive mode activating to dramatically increase its size—becoming a veritable wall of protection. As he locked it down with the gravity lock, the shield seemed to once again become an immovable part of the landscape itself, a steadfast bulwark against the storm of conflict that was now fully unleashed. A conflict that they might all not survive.

Unable to spend any additional time on the happenings however, Karania immediately jumped down towards Thea’s side and pulled her behind the Stalwart in one fluid motion.

Her analytical mind immediately assessed the situation: ‘Unresponsive.’

A rapid, practised scan of Thea revealed no obvious exterior injuries or entry wounds.

‘No visible wounds. Health in rapid decline. Focus display erratic and glitching... What in the Emperor’s cursed toenails have you done this time, Thea?!’ she thought with rising alarm.

With deliberate urgency, Karania pulled back her friend's hood. She noticed that Thea was still wearing the full-mask from the Blue Flame incident earlier—a safeguard against harmful environmental factors. Without hesitation, she unhooked the mask to check for Thea’s breathing, her heart sinking as a wave of dread washed over her.

"Masks!" she commanded sharply into her comms, her voice cutting through the cacophony of the battle without a trace of doubt or hesitation.

She didn’t bother to check for compliance from the rest of the squad; she knew they would follow the call. They had all been well-trained, drilled to respond to that specific command that had been hammered into them during Basic over many gruelling months.

When someone calls for masks, it is a command that leaves no room for question. Everyone is to immediately stop whatever they are doing, equip a full-mask, and activate the filter and oxygen mode. It is a directive that assumes the presence of airborne weaponry or a dangerous pathogen.

As she activated her own mask’s filters, Karania gently removed the mask from Thea's face, her hands steady but her heart racing.

What she saw next struck her like a physical blow, her eyes widening in horror at the state of her friend’s face.

Thea's eyes, nose, mouth, and ears had bled profusely. Her skin, which once held a healthy hue, was now a terrifying tableau of distress. It was peeling away from her bones in raw, flaking sheets, some of it sticking grotesquely to the mask in Karania’s hands.

It was a ghastly sight, one that seemed to defy the natural order of the world, and for a moment, it stole Karania's breath away. The skin that remained on Thea's face was stretched taut, more akin to a gruesome mask than the gentle features of her friend.

As Karania began to try and make sense of the situation, urgently running through potential causes and treatments in her mind, she felt Thea's body start to buckle in her arms.

Convulsions, violent and uncontrolled, were raking through her frame, each spasm causing the skin on her face to ripple like the surface of a disturbed pond, tearing further with each movement. The sight was nightmarish, and it was made all the more harrowing by the foaming blood that started pouring in copious amounts from her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears, each convulsion forcing more of the frothy, dark fluid out.

Though distressed, Karania's demeanour remained exceedingly calm, her training as a medic and unique mentality manifesting in her steady hands and focused gaze.

As she cradled Thea’s trembling form in one arm, her analytical mind unfurled like a scroll, listing and evaluating potential causes at a rapid pace, as her other hand started typing, as if on an invisible data-pad. ‘Pathogens known to cause hemorrhagic symptoms? Unlikely – the onset was far too rapid, and Thea had been in peak health. Chemical weaponry? Also improbable – no signs of respiratory distress, and they hadn't detected any chemical agents in the area. Radiological exposure? No, that wouldn’t match the symptoms either…’

As she systematically crossed off each possibility, her eyes remained locked on her friend’s deteriorating face. The skin was continuing to slough off in a gruesome parody of moulting, revealing raw, inflamed tissue underneath. Thea's eyes, once vibrant and alert, were now clouded and frantic, her pupils dilating and contracting wildly as though reacting to unseen lights, while the dark, foamy blood continued to leak in frightening amounts.

Time was running out, and Karania knew it. The situation was spiralling towards a terrible conclusion at an alarming speed.

Then, like a chilling bolt of clarity, it struck her: a System Ability. Could this be the result of a hostile Ability, one designed to attack on an almost existential level? It was a rare and terrifying prospect, but it fit the inexplicable and catastrophic symptoms manifesting before her eyes. There was a kind of twisted logic to it, a way that this horrifying scene could be the product of an Ability that targeted the very essence of a person, unravelling them from the inside out.

The thought was almost as terrifying as the situation itself, but it gave Karania a direction.

"Thea," she whispered urgently, her voice steady but imbued with a raw urgency. "Listen to me. You have to fight this. We need to counteract this Ability, understand? Stay with me."

As she spoke, her hands were already moving, reaching into her medical kit and her armour’s storage compartments for stabilisers and anti-shock meds.

She was preparing to wage a war not just on a medical front, but on a battleground defined by the strange, unpredictable rules of Abilities and System mechanics.

She swiftly administered two doses of the potent anti-pain medication she had previously used for Isabella, uncertain of the torment Thea might endure should she regain lucidity amidst this crisis. Noticing the pallor of Thea’s skin and understanding the significant blood loss she had already suffered, Karania acted without hesitation and activated her Ability.

‘Blood Transfusion.’

In a surreal display, a litre of her own blood seemed to evaporate from her skin like a crimson mist. Then, defying all logic and bypassing the airtight filters of her full-helmet, it permeated into Thea's body seamlessly.

Karania shuddered for a moment, caught in the stark, alien sensation of rapidly parting with a significant volume of her own blood. It was an eerie, hollow feeling, akin to a sudden, intimate loss.

Next, her hand moved decisively to an orange injector within her med-kit.

With steady determination, but harbouring an internal plea—‘Holrix B-43 Injector… This better work’—she administered the Focus booster to her friend, injecting it directly below the neck. The price of this single injector was astronomical, equivalent to nearly a dozen of her other supplies combined. In this dire situation, she desperately hoped it would prove its worth and stabilise Thea, even if just marginally.

Next, she injected a blue and a red stim as well, which both were supposed to heavily increase Thea’s natural regeneration for a short time. Karania knew they worked well, as she had personally tested them just yesterday, but she wasn’t sure if it was going to be enough.

Throughout this critical process, her mind was operating at peak capacity. It was a whirlwind, sorting through and processing the immense troves of information she had absorbed over the last week.

Her free hand seemed to dance in the air, virtually navigating over her mental data-pad with swift, purposeful gestures. It was as though she were sifting through a digital library of immeasurable depth, rapidly flipping through files and medical texts stored in her memory, searching for the precise knowledge that could tilt the balance in her friend’s favour.

While managing her interventions, Karania swiftly comm'ed to the rest of the squad, "Need more time with Thea. Some kind of Ability backlash. Stay safe."

The reassuring beep of the comms that sounded in response was all the confirmation she needed. It was an implicit promise that they would handle the external chaos, allowing her to maintain her complete focus on Thea.

With utmost care, she gently lowered the still-convulsing Thea to the ground, supporting her head and turning it to the side to prevent aspiration of the bloody foam. In this dire situation, each of her movements was precise and deliberate, yet exceedingly fast, when compared to more typical procedures.

Reaching into her backpack, Karania rapidly extracted a compact med-tent, one she had purposefully placed near the top of her gear. She had anticipated its potential necessity during this operation from day one, a foresight that now paid off in this critical moment.

With a deft motion, she activated it. In mere moments, an airtight, soundproof emergency tent unfolded around her and Thea. The material, comprised of reinforced synthweave fibres, created a protective bubble amidst the tumult outside.

This newly established sanctuary wasn't just about physical safety—it was mental. Within this space, Karania could isolate herself from the cacophony of battle. She needed this added quietude to fully immerse herself in her search, to drown out the outside world and hone in on the critical task of saving her friend’s life.

Now able to fully focus on the task at hand, Karania briefly closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before holding the breath entirely and opening her eyes again, finding herself inside of her own mind.

Inside, a meticulously organised library stretched infinitely in all directions, each shelf brimming with data, medical journals, and situational analyses she had ingested over the years. It was an architectural marvel of intellect; her own personal, mental sanctum that few would even be able to fathom could exist.

Now, both of her hands were rapidly flying over invisible data-pads that only she could perceive, pulling up screens of medical data, cross-referencing symptoms, and discarding irrelevant information with the swiftness of a seasoned archivist. Her eyes, meanwhile, were not those of someone reading but of a savant absorbing, scanning line after line at a speed that would leave most in awe.

Karania's mind was a scalpel, precise and sharp, cutting through the excess, trimming the information down to its most useful parts. She felt herself almost physically moving through the corridors of her mental library, each thought a step forward, each breath a moment to refocus.

In this space, time seemed to stretch and condense simultaneously. Every second outside was a valuable commodity, but in here—in her mental world—she wielded time differently, sifting through years of medical knowledge in what felt like mere moments.

To an observer, Karania's face would appear the very epitome of calm, but beneath that serene exterior, her neurons were firing like a storm, as she navigated the vast sea of her intellect, fervently searching for the one lighthouse, the single beacon of insight that could guide her through this tempest and save Thea's life.

As she navigated her mind's intricate pathways, she quickly began to rule out the common poisons, pathogens, and known chemical weaponry that she had previously disregarded as well. It was prudent to double-check, however, as she could not afford to miss anything. None of them fit the horrific tableau manifesting in Thea’s deteriorating condition.

It had to be something more elusive, something insidiously unique. Perhaps, as she had suspected, a System Ability—rare, unpredictable, and uniquely devastating.

Summoning multiple dozens of data screens showcasing Abilities and their descriptions, which she and Thea had meticulously compiled over the past week, Karania cross-referenced them with a speed that defied normal comprehension.

One initial conclusion crystallised almost instantly in her mind: 'No Ability should be capable of inflicting this kind of harm from such a distance, not unless it’s of Platinum rarity or higher...'

Quickly, she considered additional factors.

The symptoms before her were one aspect, but the scenario was unique and full of variables that were difficult to quantify. Her initial search parameters, focusing solely on symptoms, weren't yielding the answers she needed.

The strange behaviour of Thea's Focus value, as shown through her [Eyes Of A Medic] Ability, became the next critical parameter she added to her search. This was not a common symptom; it was almost as if Thea's very Allbright Profile was destabilising.

With the refined search parameters, a specific entry in her virtual library immediately caught her attention—a descriptive medical text from a book she had read just two days ago, which had been recommended by the UHF Medic trainer specifically for this operation.

The passage was clear and grim: rapidly overdrawing one's Focus could lead to catastrophic physiological effects, potentially culminating in violent death. But the text went further—it spoke of a potential rupture of the Soul itself. For UHF Marines, whose entire being was reliant on the Soul itself, such a rupture wasn't just death. It was annihilation, a cessation so complete that not even a trace of the individual would remain, meaning “True Death” for the Marine, regardless of their Merit count.

With clinical, albeit frantic precision, Karania continued to pull more data—comparing Thea’s symptoms with the morbid descriptions in the text, while simultaneously cross-referencing known countermeasures.

She was unsure whether the digital nature of their assessment would safeguard Thea from the rupture of the soul, but she was unwilling to gamble on the chance that it might not. After all, the Allbright System required a realism simulation of 99.999% to function seamlessly with the DDS. In such a high-fidelity simulation, the distinction between virtual and actual reality could blur dangerously, and Karania was acutely aware that the stakes were as real as they could get.

Drawing her consciousness back towards her physical body, Karania exhaled slowly and deliberately, feeling the cool air pass between her lips and the tension in her shoulders unwind just the slightest bit. In the outside world, only a fraction of a second had elapsed since she had plunged into the depths of her mental library, but in that expansive mental space, it felt as though she had been combing through volumes and data for hours.

Having found the exact issue however, she was now ready to save Thea.

Karania moved with swift, deliberate precision as she reached into her med-kit once more and swiftly administered another dose of Holrix B-43 into Thea. It was her last one—a high-cost, high-reward solution—but the situation was dire, and she couldn't afford to hold anything back.

Simultaneously, her other hand was a flurry of motion, selecting and injecting half a dozen other stims into Thea's weakening body—each one carefully chosen based on her deductions. Anti-shock, neuro-stabiliser, blood coagulant—every stim was aimed at countering a specific aspect of Thea’s catastrophic state.

Then, with a chilling sound of wet cracks and tearing flesh, Karania activated her signature Ability.

‘Surgeon’s Toolkit.’

Her hands transformed, her bones and flesh reshaping themselves into precise, bone surgery instruments. It was a gruesome but necessary alteration, one that allowed her an unparalleled level of control and finesse in medical procedures.

With her newly formed tools, she set to work on Thea's face and skeletal structure, which were showing signs of a grotesque inward buckling, as if Thea’s very essence was being consumed from within. In Karania's analytical mind, this wasn't just a poetic image—it was a fairly apt description, informed by the chilling passage she had recalled.

The text had elaborated on how the Allbright System, in cases of severe Focus overdraw, could enact a brutal form of reclamation. It was as though the System was forcibly extracting the overused energy directly from Thea’s individual cells and atoms. In this horrific process, her body was disintegrating at an atomic level, manifesting in the catastrophic physical decline that Karania was now witnessing.

Her only hope lay in the two Focus Boosters she had administered, as unfortunately she had not gained her T1 Medic Class yet, which supposedly came with a way to transfer her own Focus into anybody she touched.

Karania clung to the possibility that the expensive injectors would provide Thea with sufficient Focus recovery to pull her back from this harrowing precipice. If they did, the Allbright System would rapidly reconstruct Thea’s physical form, although any deviations from her original state would persist unless Karania could meticulously restore her friend's body to its prior configuration.

Guided by her encyclopaedic medical knowledge and her finely-tuned senses, Karania moved with purpose and precision. She delicately realigned the fragile bones of Thea’s face, her hands steady despite the dire urgency of their situation. Each adjustment she made was carried out with the artistry and exactness of a master sculptor, each action a calculated move designed to halt and reverse the terrifying implosion of her friend’s form.

As she worked, sweat beaded on Karania’s forehead, but her expression remained intensely focused. This was a battle of a different kind, fought not with guns and blades, but with knowledge and skill.

Just a minute after injecting the second Focus Booster, Karania noticed a subtle but unmistakable change: Thea’s eyes, which had been dulled to a lifeless hue, were now regaining their familiar lustre.

In that instant, a wave of relief, subtle but palpable, washed over Karania. It was as though, for that fleeting moment, she could breathe again, her chest loosening at the sight of this first positive sign, this glimmer of hope in her friend's previously catastrophic state.

However, this reprieve was cut abruptly short.

Suddenly, a harrowing scream erupted from Thea, a sound so raw and primal that it seemed to reverberate through the very air of the med-tent. Between her screams, she was violently coughing up torrents of blood, each bout more forceful than the last. It was a sound that Karania, despite all her extensive medical training, had never heard before—an indiciation of the unimaginable pain that Thea was enduring.

Desperation mounting yet with her focus unwavering, Karania swiftly reached for her med-kit. With practised hands, she administered three powerful muscle relaxant/painkiller combos to Thea—dosages potent enough to knock a seasoned Marine unconscious for hours under normal circumstances. But to Karania's growing dread, they seemed to have no effect; Thea’s convulsive movements were not subsiding.

In her mind, a stark realisation took form: ‘I can’t administer more… This is already a dosage that should put her in a coma… Any more and she’ll definitely die!'

In her torment, Thea’s hands began to claw violently at her own face, her nails drawing blood and threatening to do irreparable damage as Karania heard her friend’s brittle bones break over and over again.

Her movements were frantic, spurred by a pain that seemed so far beyond human comprehension, that Thea was unable to do anything but scream.

Just as Thea's hands were dangerously close to her eyes, in what seemed to be an instinctual, desperate attempt to rid herself of the pain by any means necessary, Karania acted.

With a swift, decisive motion, Karania caught Thea’s wrists in her own hands and firmly pushed her friend onto the ground, pinning her in place but being mindful not to cause further injury. Her eyes—clear and steady despite the chaos unfolding before her—locked onto Thea's.

“Thea, stay with me,” Karania urged, her voice a calm and grounding force amidst the storm of pain that was consuming her friend. “I'm here, and I'm not going to let you go. We will get through this. I need you to hold on!”

As she spoke, Karania’s hands were gentle but firm, a stark contrast to the stern command in her voice. She was the eye of the storm in this moment, determined to pull her friend back from the brink, even as Thea's body seemed to be tearing itself apart under the strain of the Allbright System’s relentless reconstitution.

Despite Karania’s comforting words, Thea’s thrashing continued, her screams now a raw, guttural sound, and with every convulsion, her blood sprayed wildly, painting the inside of the tent in a horrific hue. Time was running out.

In a move of calculated risk, Karania activated her [Blood Transfusion] Ability once more, accompanied by a familiar chime.

‘Blood Transfusion.’

[System]: "Blood Transfusion has reached Level 2."

As she did so, she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her, a stark reminder that she had already depleted her own reserves from her [Sanguine Pool] during Isabella's surgery earlier. Nevertheless, she pushed through her own physical discomfort, her resolve as a medic unwavering.

Slowly, agonisingly, after what felt like an eternity to Karania but was in reality just another two harrowing minutes, Thea’s violent movements began to lessen, her raw vocal cords no longer capable of forming screams.

A weary relief started to flood through Karania as she saw the first signs that Thea was beginning to stabilise, but she knew that they were far from safe. The grim reality of the situation was immediately confirmed when Thea, with her vocal cords raw and strained, managed to utter a heartbreaking plea.

“Kill… me…”

Karania had heard many such desperate requests from Marines and patients throughout her, arguably short, career, but hearing it from Thea—her fiercely independent and resilient friend—sent a profound, piercing pain through her chest.

It was a wound no medical kit could heal, a stark reminder of the brutal toll that their situation was taking on someone she held so close.

“I won’t do that. Thea, you will be alright. You have overdrawn your Focus and—”

“AHHH…! KILL ME, KARA!” Thea interrupted, her cyan eyes rolling back into her head due to the excruciating pain, rendering them no longer visible to Karania.

Under normal circumstances, hearing Thea call her 'Kara,' the nickname she had warmly introduced herself with, always sent a jolt of joy through Karania. But in that fraught moment, it was a dagger to her heart. Karania's face tightened as Thea repeatedly muttered the same phrase over and over again, pleading for Kara to end her life.

Gently, she leaned closer, her hands tenderly cradling her friend's face as she softly brushed a strand of hair away from Thea’s sweat and blood-soaked skin.

"I will not," Karania replied firmly, her voice unwavering despite the turmoil in her chest. "I am going to save you, Thea, just like you would do for me. Even if you refuse to speak to me ever again. Even if you hate me for it. Even if you wish to kill me a dozen times over, once this is done. It does not matter. I won’t let you die."

With this steadfast vow, Karania activated her 'Blood Transfusion' Ability again, despite the wooziness that immediately tugged at her consciousness—a painful reminder of the personal toll this was taking, but a cost she was willing to pay without hesitation.

‘Blood Transfusion.’

Feeling her vision blur slightly at the edges, Karania pushed through, holding Thea’s convulsing form steady as a new, calming influx of her own life essence moved towards her friend.

Each second felt like an eternity, the tent around them seemingly closing in as she focused solely on Thea’s gradually calming form. After what felt like both a moment and a lifetime, Thea's thrashing slowly began to subside, her raw screams and pleas transitioning into mere whimpers, then into strained, ragged breaths as the Allbright System finished its gruesome work.

In her years as a medic and a healer beforehand, Karania had learned the cruel rhythm of critical conditions: often, the body would seem at peace just before a storm of worsening symptoms. Aware of this grim possibility and determined not to be caught off guard, she activated her analytics Ability once more, to diligently monitor Thea's vitals and ensure she was indeed progressing towards recovery.

‘Eyes Of A Medic.’

[Thea McKay]

[Health: Severely Critical - Tendency: Slow Improvement]

[Focus: Severely Critical - Tendency: Stagnant]

With her analytics Ability painting a more hopeful picture on the virtual display before her eyes, Karania allowed herself a sigh of relief. "She'll be fine," she whispered to herself, her voice carrying both conviction and a profound sense of relief. "She’s finally out of the Focus Overdraw."

Moving swiftly but deliberately, Karania began to administer a series of long-term recovery injectors to Thea. These would promote healing, reduce inflammation, and help to stabilise her friend’s condition further. As she worked, she could not shake the echo of Thea’s desperate pleas from her mind.

After a few long seconds of contemplation, Karania made a decisive choice.

She reached for one of her only two Amnestics—a rare and powerful drug designed to erase specific, recent memories. As a medical practitioner, she had always been hesitant to use such a potent tool. But in this instance, she could not bear the thought of Thea living with the vivid memory of such excruciating pain. Her body and subconscious would remember, certainly, in the form of deep exhaustion and residual aches or mental instability, but her conscious mind would be spared the sharp edges of that torment.

With a firm but gentle touch, she administered the Amnestic into Thea’s neck. "May you forget this pain, my friend," she whispered softly, as though imparting a tender blessing.

Then, Karania did something for herself.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment and entered her own mental library—an ordered, serene space where she stored her vast knowledge. In this inner sanctuary, she meticulously compartmentalised this harrowing experience, placing it in its own sealed vault.

As she sealed the vault within her mental library, she felt an immediate, almost miraculous release. The emotional impact of Thea’s desperate words, and the weight of the terrifying ordeal they had just endured, dissipated like mist under a morning sun.

This was her secret strength as a medical practitioner, her ace in the hole.

Her extraordinary mental architecture, a fortress of meticulously organized knowledge and experience, had set her apart from a young age. It was this gift that had enabled her to become a prodigious physician at the tender age of thirteen back on her home planet. This ability to compartmentalise, store, and revisit any experience she had ever lived through had not only defined her medical career but had also carved her path to the ranks of Alpha Squad and the UHF.

With her internal reorganisation complete, Karania’s eyes snapped open, her face a portrait of composure. Her mind, once stormy and fraught, was now a placid lake. She was ready—ready to continue her duty, to heal and to fight, unencumbered by the emotional devastation that such an ordeal might inflict on another.

She sank down, her back finding support against the unyielding structure of the medical tent. As she inhaled, having disabled the filters on her helmet, the stagnant air, heavy with the metallic tang of blood, filled her lungs. A wry smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

'It would be Thea,' she mused internally, 'who manages to immediately overdraw her Focus and nearly earn herself a “True Death” in a mere simulation... I will definitely need to have a serious word with her—'

Her train of thought was abruptly interrupted when the sound environment inside the tent suddenly increased manifold.

Gunfire, explosions and the tell-tale barks of superior officers organizing their respective squads filtered into Karania's ears.

Karania was immediately alarmed - after all, the medical tent was air and sound-tight, so how was she hearing these things with such clarity all of a sudden...?

Just then, a searing pain surged through her body twisting her previously serene smile into a tight grimace.

Glancing down to pinpoint the source of this agony, Karania's eyes widened at the sight of a large, blood-red void where her left lung and heart should have been, a violent contradiction to the composed doctor she was moments before.

'At least, that explains the sound... A bullet ripped through the tent's exterior, breaking the seal...'

With an ironic scoff that was more blood than air, she slid down the wall of the tent, her descent marked by a chilling smear of blood. As her vision started to blur into darkness, her last coherent thought held a note of bitter amusement:

‘Of course, it just had to be me…’