Another portal opened with a silent, shimmering tear in reality and swallowed the mysterious figure, leaving the stunned survivors in a vacuum of shock and silence.
The sudden stillness was almost worse than the chaos. Exalibar's mind, which had been running on pure survival instinct, snapped back into focus with a sickening lurch. Sky.
He hadn't seen his brother since the wave hit.
"SKY!" The name the only words on his lips. He abandoned the others and ran, his enhanced speed gone, leaving him stumbling across the fractured, ice-and-debris-littered tundra the collapsing dam had created. It was a slow, agonizing search, his eyes scanning every shadow, his voice growing hoarse. "SKY!"
A weak, gurgling cough answered from behind a mound of shattered concrete on the nearby shore.
"H… here…."
Exalibar sprinted toward the sound. He found Sky propped against a rock. One of his legs was bent at a nauseating angle, and a jagged piece of rebar protruded from his abdomen. His face was pale, his breathing shallow and wet.
Exalibar didn't need a medical degree. The critical condition screamed at him. He fumbled in his soaked pocket, fingers closing around the cool glass of a single, green-glowing vial—Aisha's perfected healing serum, a more potent, mana-intensive version of what she'd used on Sean.
"How much mana do you have left?" Exalibar asked.
Sky's eyes were glazed with pain. "Not… a lot. Not nearly enough for whatever… that stuff does…"
"Damn it," Exalibar hissed, biting his thumbnail in a frantic, nervous habit. "What do I do…?" "Ah, fuck it. I'm administering it anyway."
"Wait—!"
Exalibar was already moving. He stabbed the syringe into Sky's thigh, injecting a small amount. Then, before Sky could even cry out, he wrapped his hand around the bloody rebar in his abdomen. "On three. One—" He yanked it out on 'one.' Sky arched off the ground with a strangled scream.
Exalibar clamped his hand over the wound, his other hand pressing against Sky's chest. His eyes flared with a silver-blue light. He poured the last dregs of his own mana into his brother, not to power the serum, but to use the injected sample as a biological blueprint. He mimicked the technique he'd used on Theo, his mind becoming a surgical scanner and repair crew, directing energy to seal ruptured vessels, encourage bone to knit, and stabilize the worst of the internal damage. He worked with frantic, precise economy, leaving himself just enough mana to avoid collapsing.
The violent bleeding stopped. Sky's breathing, while still pained, grew deeper.
Sky slumped back, sweat and ice water plastering his silver hair to his forehead. "Now… take me to a damn hospital…"
Exalibar dropped to his knees beside him, spent. "Nah, bro. I'm gonna leave you here to die. I'll tell everyone I just couldn't make it in time." He managed a weak, breathless laugh.
A ghost of Sky's usual smirk appeared. "Yeah, right… Like you could live without me, little brother…"
Somehow, Exalibar found the strength to haul Sky onto his back in a fireman's carry, gritting his teeth against the strain. He began the long, torturous walk back to where they'd left the others.
He found only Chloe, standing alone amidst the devastation, her arms wrapped around herself.
"Where is everyone else?" Exalibar gasped, lowering Sky carefully to the ground.
Chloe turned, her face streaked with dirt and tears. "Gone, Exalibar. Their conditions… we couldn't even use the syringes." Her voice broke. "Jane and Aisha… they don't have enough mana left in their bodies to catalyse the serum. It would just sit there, useless."
"So...?"
"Jack called an ambulance, but the operator said they're swamped. Casualties from the lower towns…" Chloe took a shuddering breath. "Dylan put them in the car. He's taking them to the Central Hospital himself. We should go, too."
"True," Exalibar said, his body screaming in protest. "But I don't have enough energy to carry him and run…"
"Don't worry," Chloe said, her voice firming with newfound purpose. She crouched, hooking her arms under Sky's shoulders. "I'll fly. I didn't get to do much at the end… I still have energy." Photon energy shimmered around her feet and back, forming glowing, violet wings of pure energy. With a grunt of effort, she braced Sky on her left and Exalibar on her right. She took off and with a speed maintained so as to not further injure Sky, they rushed to the hospital.
The Lekratian Central Hospital's emergency bay was nothing but chaos. Ambulances screamed in, disgorging the broken and bleeding. The air was thick with the smell of antiseptic, blood, and panic.
Dylan's car screeched to a halt right at the automatic doors, ignoring the designated lanes. He and Jack erupted from the front seats. Jack threw open the back door, gathering Aisha's limp form into his arms. Dylan did the same for Jane.
"HELP! WE NEED A DOCTOR, NOW!" Dylan roared, charging through the sliding doors.
A triage nurse behind a crowded desk looked up, her face a mask of professional exhaustion. "Sir, you need to check in and—"
"CHECK IN?!" Dylan shouted, his voice cracking. "We're students, from the cultural exchange! The dam collapsed! We don't have TIME!"
At that moment, in Jack's arms, Jane convulsed. A violent shudder wracked her body, and she coughed, spraying a fine mist of blood across the sterile floor.
The nurse's eyes widened. She slammed a button on her desk. "CRASH TEAM, BAY THREE! NOW!"
The hospital's latent energy shifted. Orderlies appeared with two stretchers. Jack and Dylan gently but swiftly laid their burdens down.
"What happened?" a doctor barked, appearing at Aisha's side, his hands already probing.
"Structural collapse," Jack said, his voice a low, controlled rumble. "Blunt force trauma. She was trying to hold it together."
The doctor shone a penlight into Aisha's eyes. "Pupils reactive but sluggish. Possible internal bleeding, concussion. Get her to Trauma Two, full scan, CBC, and type and cross for four units!" The orderly sprinted away with Aisha's stretcher.
Another doctor, an older woman with sharp eyes, was at Jane's side. Jane convulsed again, a weaker, more terrifying tremor. The doctor pried open an eyelid.
"Pupils are blanched. Corneal milking," she said, her voice grim. "Signs of severe mana pathway overload and feedback burn." Her hands flew over Jane's body, assessing with brutal speed. "Decreased breath sounds on the left. Jugular vein distension. Possible tension pneumothorax. Spine is misaligned at T10-T11. Multiple rib fractures, likely flail segment."
She didn't raise her voice, but her commands sliced through the noise. "I need a chest tube tray, now! Prep O.R. Four for spinal stabilization and thoracic surgery. Get neuro on standby for pathway assessment. She's crashing—move!"
A nurse rushed forward with a scalpel and a plastic tube. The doctor didn't hesitate. She made a quick incision between Jane's ribs, inserted the tube. There was a hiss of escaping air, and Jane's tortured breathing eased slightly, but her color remained a deadly gray.
"Heart rate's dropping! 40 and falling!" a monitoring nurse called out.
"Push 1mg of Atropine! Get her upstairs, now! We're losing her!" The doctor ran alongside the stretcher as it was wheeled at a dead run toward the elevators, barking orders about IV lines and ventilators.