Niko woke up the next morning with a start.

His chest, still felt cold and empty, but apart from that it felt heavy and tight. Every breath he took felt like ice water forcing its way down his throat. But his right arm was on fire, burning and aching like he was holding it directly over a pot of boiling water.

He glanced around frantically. For a moment, he completely forgot that he wasn’t at home; he didn’t have his night stand, where he kept a bottle of water and some painkillers in case he woke up consumed by the aches and pains of a bad migraine or sudden mana drain in the middle of the night.

The only thing beside him was another hospital bed – and the person sleeping on it didn’t seem to be faring too well either.

Shane was breathing heavily, beads of sweat trickling from his forehead. His eyes were shut tight, his expression twisted in what seemed like a complicated mix of distress and frustration.

“Shane…?” Niko called out.

Shane didn’t stir.

“Shane, hey,” Niko sat up and leaned forward, trying to reach across the gap to shake him away. But the distance was too great, and the simple act of sitting up had sent his bruised rib into a violent frenzy that drew out a strangled groan from his lips.

Inwardly cursing, Niko twisted around and pushed the call button above his bed.

“Niko?”

An attending nurse was there within two minutes.

“I’m sorry… Can you wake Shane up?” Niko asked hoarsely. “I think – I can’t reach him. He doesn’t look well. Maybe he’s having a nightmare.”

Niko felt a little silly speaking in such a way. Those were the words he used with the nurses on his grandmother’s estate; stuffy and formal, in a dated register that reminded him of the yellowing pages of the centuries-old novels in his father’s study. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment – though, if the nurse noticed any of this, she didn’t let on.

“What about you?” The nurse asked.

“... Me?”

“Are you okay?”

Niko swallowed hard and shook his head. Lying by omission was one thing; actively covering up something so evident and observable was another thing entirely, and he didn’t have it in him to be able to sell such a big lie.

The nurse swiftly pushed the call button above Shane’s bed before getting to work on waking him up. Niko sat idly and watched, weathering the mild ache that was slowly numbing him from head to toe. He waited for the next nurse to come in as Shane woke up with a jolt, blinking tears out of his eyes as the nurse talked him down from whatever it was that he had been dreaming about.

It hurts, Niko said when the second nurse arrived and asked him what was wrong.

It’s burning. It hurts.

The sensation was the same for both of them; burning, searing, like their flesh was melting straight off the bone. And the most awful part about it was the physical state of their wounds.

Black at the edges, like burnt paper; vibrant red at the center, exposed flesh that refused to heal.

When the dust and panic had settled and the nurses had left, Shane finally found it in him to speak. He hadn’t said a word all morning, only communicating with the nurses in nods and shakes of the head interspersed with tiny little grunts and whines when they handled his wounds too roughly. When he finally said something his voice was hoarse and pinched tight. The voice of someone who has been staunchly refusing to scream.

“Are you okay?”

Niko looked away. He had been staring at Shane for the better part of the last hour. It felt wrong even when he was doing it out of concern.

“No.” Niko replied truthfully.

Shane’s eye twitched.

He hadn’t expected to be met with such straightforward honesty.

Even beyond that… How exactly was he supposed to respond to what Niko had said? It wasn’t a question that needed answering, nor did it have any points that could be addressed by follow-up comments or questions. Shane didn’t think there was anything to say apart from a very pathetic,

“Oh.”

Then, silence.

Niko looked away awkwardly, grasping at the sheets like he was looking for the right set of words in the folds of the fabric. The silence that filled the air between them just as stale and uncomfortable as it had been the previous night when they arrived. Nothing had changed, not even after a whole night of being alone together.

Shane hated it.

He hated the silence immensely. It was the worst silence he’s ever experienced; it sat like a solid object between them, taking up pace and making the room feel smaller than it was. Shane was starting to feel claustrophobic from it even though they had an entire empty ward all to themselves. He wanted to say something, anything to get it to go away. But he didn’t know Niko too well, and so he didn’t really know what to say.

“... Hey,”

Niko met his gaze. He looked like that was the last thing in the world that he wanted to do. 

“Yeah?”

Shane chose his next few words carefully. He didn’t want to get stuck in a loop of passing around gratitude.

“Thanks. For having the nurse wake me up.”

“I –” Niko stopped. Then, after a moment, he said, “Sure. Are you feeling okay?”

Not really.

Shane felt terrible. He already put his suppressor back on, but he still felt like he was running a fever. (And according to the nurse, he might very well have been running one, actually. The thermometer they were using was just refusing to give an accurate reading for one reason or another.) 

Apart from that, he just wanted to go home. He still had to revise his reviewers for finals. He still had to wash the dishes. He had to do so many things that he couldn’t do because he was currently stuck in that damn hospital and he just wanted to leave.

“... I’m fine.”

But he didn’t say any of that.

Niko frowned. 

“Are you sure?”

“More or less.” Shane shrugged. 

If Niko believed him, he didn’t look like it. Though he made no move to comment further.

Silence.

Shane hated it. He wished he had more to say. He really did.

But he didn’t.

And so the morning went.

“Shane, Niko?”

At around three in the afternoon, an attending nurse visited the room outside of the hourly check-up period. Actually, she came by just after their ast check-up finished, which set both of them on edge almost immediately. 

“Yes…?” Nko asked, trepidation seeping through his voice in a drawn-out hiss like gas leaking from a pipe, ready to ignite at the slightest bit of danger.

“There’s someone here to see you.”

Huh?

Shane and Niko exchanged looks. As far as they knew, no one had told them they were coming. No friends, no family. It was a busy weekend, and the people who had work or other prior commitments wouldn’t get off until late in the day. (Or at all, in some cases.)

“Who is it?” Shane prompted.

“A representative from the Committee of Medical Welfare and Pharmaceutics.” The nurse replied carefully. “They want to examine your injuries.”

That… was somehow even worse than what either of them could have anticipated.

If it had been the Maharlika coming to ask questions and make an incident report, then it would have been procedural, a necessary process. If the Committee was coming to investigate, then that meant there was something very wrong with what was going on – though, the fact that their wounds weren’t healing was a very obvious indication of that already. 

Shane didn’t think the whole thing would be serious enough to garner a direct visit from a Committee representative. A specialized doctor or two, maybe. But not a government officer for medical welfare.

“... Okay,” Niko nodded. “I –”

I’m okay, he meant to say. But then he remembered that it wasn’t just him. He glanced at Shane, who met his gaze with a skeptical frown.

“We’re okay.” Shane said anyway.

“Alright. I’ll send him in, then.”

She left in a rush, as if staying there any longer was unbearable. The silence she left was stiff and uncomfortable, full of unspoken questions that either seemed inappropriate or ill-advised.

It took her two minutes to return, and with a man following closely behind her.

Shane squinted – but just so, enough to make out like he was just trying to see through the sudden patch of sun that was pushing in from the windows over his head. (It really was getting a little too bright for him, though.) The man was tall and fair, with a head of bright red hair – not an uncommon sight in Sibol, but it wasn’t terribly common for a person who looked like him to be holding a position in the local Collective branch. 

He could have been a visiting representative, or a representative that had been called in on short notice… But Shane doubted that. 

“Do you need anything?” The nurse asked him.

“No, no. It’s okay.” The man replied with an amicable smile. “Thank you.”

“Alright…”

The nurse shot Shane and Niko a cautious look – as if she was wary of leaving them alone with their visitor – before leaving the room.

“Alright! Now that that’s over and done with,”

She had only been gone for approximately five seconds when the man turned around, did a little hop, and slapped a hand against the top of the doorway. He left a single sticky note plastered to the wall. It had a single, crudely-drawn sygil on it, though it was one that Shane didn’t recognize. (To be fair, he didn’t recognize a lot of sygils… Even when Mikael took the time to teach him, he had never been able to grasp more than ten of them at a time.)

He stepped back, muttering in a tongue that neither Shane nor Niko understood.

The air crackled with favria, the sygil glowing bright and white on the small slip of green paper. When he snapped his fingers, a wave of green light burst forth from the sygil, coating every single wall and window in a single breath.

Privacy ward, Niko thought, paling at the realization.

He’s only ever seen a privacy ward once in his life, and that single encounter had been a severely unpleasant one indeed. Even now, almost five years later, it still drew forth uneasy memories in his head.

Shane held no such sentiments. He’s never seen a privacy ward in person before, but he knew all about them. Mikael joked all the time that he was always a hair-pull trigger away from casting one over his room.

He stared hard at their visitor, demanding an answer.

“A precaution,” the man replied with a shrug. “The topic at hand is quite sensitive, you see. I’m not supposed to let the staff of any other civilian on the premises overhear our little conversation.”

“About that.” Shane spoke up.

“Hm?”

“You’re not really from the Committee of Medical Welfare, are you?”

The man smiled. It wasn’t insincere, but there was a bit of mischief to it. It set Shane off a little bit.

“Oh, I’m not at liberty to answer that question.”

Niko frowned. “May I ask why you’re visiting us, then?”

“Well, you could take this as an interrogation, but that’s a bit of a harsh word. I’m just here because I need you to answer my questions – but I’m also here to answer your questions, in the event that you may have any.”

That wasn’t much of an answer, but Shane and Niko came to the same realization at roughly the same time.

Last night.

“If this is about last night,” Shane began, his tone guarded, “we don’t know anything.”

Niko winced. The way he addressed this person… His callousness was commendable, to an extent. But it bothered him an unreasonable amount, how standoffish he seemed to sound. Niko really didn’t want to get on the man’s bad side before they even got to properly talk to each other.

“Mm… Well, considering how you two are the only witnesses to the incident, I would like to argue that you know everything, actually.”

“Who are you?” Shane demanded.

The man smiled. “Finally, a question I can answer without fear. My name is Zachariah Blair. Zac, if you will.”

“Mr. Zac,”

“Just Zac.”

“Zac, then.” Shane felt superbly uncomfortable with just calling the man by name. But that was his instruction, so he was inclined to oblige. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Your questions thus far have been a little out of bounds, but sure. You get one more try.”

“Are you from the Hunters’ Guild?”

Silence.

Niko turned to Shane in surprise, but he was too busy staring Zac down to notice.

“Hm…” The older man hummed. “That’s not really a question I’m allowed to answer. But I like stubborn people, so I guess I’ll give you a pass.”

“And your answer?”

“Yes, I am.”

Niko frowned. He couldn’t help himself. The next question was his to ask.

“Sorry, but… I’m a Hunters’ Guild trainee, but I don’t recognize you.”

Zac waved a hand. “Oh so it’s you. You’re the one Agila was talking about! I was wondering how I was going to broach the subject. Thank you for bringing it up.”

“Agila told you?” Shane sounded alarmed..

“Yes. He reported the incident as soon as he sent you both off to the hospital.”

There was a bit of a jilted pause, after that. Shane went deathly quiet, trying to process the information at hand.

Is Agila a hunter too?

“Anyway,” Zac continued when neither of them did, “Don’t worry about not knowing who I am. I was just called over on an emergency since Maeve is away. I’m the trainee supervisor for the Albion branch.”

Albion…

“Do you…” Niko continued hesitantly.

Zac arched an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Do you… by any chance, know Flint Olivier?”

“I do in fact. I’m the one overseeing his training. Is he a friend of yours?”

“Yes…”

Shane looked between the two of them with a sharp look in his eyes. He looked like he was mentally recording every single word they were saying.

“Well now,” Zac clapped his hands after a brief moment of silence. “This interrogation is all well and good. But I’m here for a job, you know.”

“... And that is?” Shane deadpanned.

Zac leaned forward in his seat and shifted his expression to something more serious, less playful. It looked a little strange to him, which put both Shane and Niko all the way off. There was something about seemingly lighthearted people turning serious at the drop of a hat that was always unnerving no matter what the situation was.

“I’m afraid the two of you have been the victims of a very unfortunate happenstance, and I’m here to impart just how bad the situation really is.”