A lavender-haired woman waits beside the bed, still trying to administer Phase 1 to Phase 2 Guiding to the Esper lying on the patient bed to no avail. She cradles the hand around the Esper’s, soft light glows between their connection as the woman closes her eyes,

Her ID card and badge shines on her waist, Isabella Angelo, S-Class. Triage - Booster.

The brain waves displayed on the screen by the bedside still show no improvement, as though said Esper falls into a deep coma. Isabella Angelo’s frown deepens. Aside from the wounded area, there’s no visible change to the Esper’s body, nor her eyes showing any sign of berserk-associated glimmer. 

“Strange,” she mumbles. “This never happened before, and Miss Angkara is not Partnered, so any Guide should suffice as long as it fulfills the 50% and above threshold, and yet-”

“Mrs. Angelo, I’m back with the Guide.” 

Livia announces herself before she enters the private chamber. The knockdown room is made of sturdy metal that’s served for Phase 2 and beyond Guiding treatment for on-site missions, equipped with several equipment in-case of emergency.

Sara can only smell blood right the moment she comes in, and she digs her nail on her left arm, steeling herself to come in after Livia does.

Yet another known name that’s famous to Guide Center to Sara’s knowledge, Isabella Angelo. The woman sits beside the bed, tending to the patient as Livia and Sara arrive.

Sara holds her breath to see Amara’s condition. As Livia explained to her, she is hit by an Aether shrapnel to her upper left shoulder. Though the wound itself is already dressed by the medical team, by a look at the monitoring screen beside the bed, her condition doesn’t improve. 

The anxious Mrs. Angelo seemingly already tries her best with Guiding, though both her and Livia couldn’t get anything across.

“Have you tried Phase 2 again, Mrs. Angelo?” Livia asks.

“A few times, but I’m afraid I can only see fog inside her mind.”

There’s no use to attempt for further Phases if Phase 2 itself is not working, is a core rule to Guiding.

“Fog?” Sara raises her question. “Is it because of the shrapnel affecting so much to her condition?” 

“We’re still analyzing the weapons and Sentinel remnants at the moment,” Mrs. Angelo’s response is straight. “With Monolith 7889 operational, at least we’re free from danger for now, though it is preferable that Miss Angkara is cared for quickly before we transport her back to the Capital.”

Another core rule to Guiding, especially for on-site duties, you mustn't dally. There can be one second difference between Espers close to Zoning or not.

There’s no such luxury of choosing on the battlefield, after all.

Mrs. Angelo raises herself from the only chair by the room, gesturing for Sara to begin, “Since you’re the last Guide who’s known to be in contact with Miss Angkara, we hope for your timely aid, Miss Khalida.”

Sara isn’t feeling sure. What if she failed, too, as it is a special case scenario? She will surely feel more than guilty. Per guidelines, both S-Class Guides already did their part and the patient condition doesn’t improve. If Sara, the last Guide in contact with Amara can’t Guide her either, Amara will likely have to be put in the coma ward.

Sara shakes her head, trying to dispel any memory of the coma ward, as she concentrates on her power. She is quite spent for Guiding duty, but if the Phase 1 Guiding works for now—

Sara takes Amara’s limp hand. She suddenly thinks of that time when Amara stopped her when they were both visiting Penelope.

‘I haven’t thanked you properly for yesterday, and I’m sorry I have yet to be able to return your handkerchief.’

She squeezes the hand in hers, letting out as much of her power she can muster. She feels that connection again, and the cold hand in hers begins to be slightly lukewarm to touch.

Then it is when she suddenly hears a voice. Sara tries to glance back to find both Mrs. Angelo and Livia away from her, not uttering a word. But the voice rings true, as though someone is speaking inside her mind, and any other noise is blocked from her world.

‘We’re going to start a—, away from—.’

‘Sorry—we—‘

A beep coming from the monitoring screen, which alerts the three of them. Mrs. Angelo’s amethyst-colored eyes light up from behind her red-framed glasses, taking in the resulting spectrum of waves. “It … It really worked.”

Sara blinks, realizing that sense of smell and hearing returning to the room. Her hand trembles slightly, her power still coursing through the unconscious Amara. 

“Does that mean Miss Khalida is …” Livia trails off. “Have you checked your compatibility with Amara before, Miss Khalida?”

Sara shakes her head, “No. When I administered Guiding the last time, it was a first aid manner on-field.”

Mrs. Angelo regards her with a warm smile, “We have to take your analytics from this moment between you and Miss Angkara,” she pats lightly on Sara’s shoulder. “I hope you’ll understand.”

There’s not much option that I have now, right? Sara about to scoff, but she holds her tongue. There is no need to be stiff or cynical, and what she feared that she might be guilty of conscience doesn’t happen.

She slowly senses the dawning fatigue, though likely because she’s working all day.

“Should she do Phase 2, Mrs. Angelo?” Livia asks the senior Guide again.

The lavender-haired woman takes note of the screen reading, “So far there doesn’t seem to be any need, but …” she turns to Sara. “How long can you keep up, Miss Khalida?”

“I … was working for the first response, so I don’t think I may last too long, perhaps …” she looks over her hand, her thumb brushes Amara’s back hand, watching how it trembles. “Thirty minutes.”

“That’s plenty.” the senior Guide nods. “I’ll leave for now, just focus on Guiding Miss Angkara. I’ll report to the National Guild on your behalf.”

“I—thank you, Mrs. Angelo.”

Mrs. Angelo leaves the private chamber first. Livia still watches her quietly within the earshot. Does she detest her? Or does she see this as competition? Sara can’t tell beyond her cold demeanor.

“Do you dislike Guiding?” the question comes out from her, out of the blue.

“That’s a difficult question.” Sara responds, trying to be neutral.

Her red eyes flit for a few times between her and Amara, then she turns around to leave. Sara lets out a long sigh that she doesn’t know she held in for a while.

She perches beside the bed, cushioning her arm and straightening Amara’s. Amara still lays in quiet, the only noise accompanying them is steady beats coming from the screens beside the bed. The brain wave screen, as Mrs. Angelo says, has shown more fluctuations than the first time.

She checks over the wounded shoulder, the one dressed in fresh bandage crossing her body, the scent of blood is still there, the wound has yet to close. Sara pulls up her hand unconsciously, instead touching Amara’s hand, she caresses near the wound.

This is no ‘Zone’ - Sara ever treated someone with Zone condition before, but it’s not nearly as exhausting as this. Her body grows slightly warm from exertion, and sweat gathers on her forehead. 

She returns back to Amara’s hand the moment her consciousness falters. Fortunately by the moment she does, the sharp scent of iron already fades. 

‘Thank you.’

Sara opens her eyes wide, hearing voices again. Sensation akin to be basked below sunrise spread through her like wildfire. Though as her semblance of focus returns, the room is deathly quiet once more. Her heart beats louder in her chest, is she seeing things, or is it a recollection of something, bordering between Phases?

She recalls when Amara is the first Esper to thank her for Guiding, when others either point out about Sara, or scowls as Sara prohibits them from doing anything funny to her or other Guides. Penelope also says that she’s … respectful to others, and valued them for their skills.

When the agreed thirty minutes pass, Sara remains there, looking out for Amara until Mrs. Angelo comes back to get her. They are going to move Amara shortly, though Sara has to be present until transfer.

Even as she stops with the intensive Guiding, the erratic beating of her heart doesn’t cease.