JOLU: Always remember, Jala, it is not about the spice that is in your veins, but the spice that is right here, where I am pointing!

  (Jolu points at Jala’s chest)

  JALA: I believe I understand now, Jolu. You mean the spice within my heart?

  JOLU: Of course not, Jala! I was referring to indigestion! Ha!

  – Capsaiders! (Gekikara Senshi Kapusaidā!), S8E3

  Once again, Wally and I found ourselves in a hospital waiting area. Only a couple of weeks ago we were waiting in this same room to hear the fate of Team Snowcrest’s lieutenant, Tessa Vale. Her legs were reattached now, and she was starting physical therapy.

  Now, we were waiting to hear news about the rest of Team Snowcrest—including Jessie and, somehow, Chris himself. Isabel Marin sat across from us, nervously rolling her pen between her hands.

  From what little we’d been told, the raid on the warehouse where Brick and Mantis were holed up was both successful and disastrous. Everyone, Chris included, had been found trapped in Mantis’s ice in a state of hypothermia.

  “We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” I said to no one in particular. Which was a good audience to play to, because no one laughed either.

  Wally took a shuddering breath. Captain Tetsumi sat next to him, wringing her hands.

  The waiting area was a lot more crowded than it had been last time, with nearly every seat filled. Most of the sorcerers currently on call at HQ were here, and other groups I realized must be family or friends of the Snowcrest members. Dante Katsuro sat across from a group with familiar sleek black hair who spoke quietly with light accents. I suspected they must be the family of Junpei Lin, Snowcrest’s acid-slinging bombardier and Dante’s best friend.

  “I hate this,” Wally muttered. “I’ve seen this from both sides, Jett, and I’ve come to a decision. It’s way easier to be the patient.”

  I grimaced. I’d suffered a few breaks in my youth, but never anything on the scale of what Wally had experienced when he’d lost the use of his legs. For him to say that…

  “I can’t argue,” I said. “After you were attacked, I spent many nights begging any Shone or god listening that I could take your place.”

  “I’m sorry,” Wally said.

  “Don’t you damn dare. That’s not what I was saying.”

  Wally went silent for a moment. “D-did I ever tell you my little sister Connie got pertussis when she was a baby?”

  I blinked. “I don't think so.”

  “I was just old enough to remember. My first sibling I got to watch come into the world. I loved her from the second I laid eyes on her.” He blinked back tears. “Then she ended up in the NICU, and my parents were so worried, and I was just old enough to understand: Even though I’d just met her, I might have to say goodbye.”

  “Hey.” I carefully placed a hand on Wally’s shoulder. “She’ll be okay.”

  Wally looked at me as if he were coming out of a daze. “Connie’s fine now. You met her. Wait… who are you talking about?”

  I glanced over at the captain. “You know who I mean, Sabaton.”

  Habby put in an appearance, his cartoonish chili pepper avatar wreathed in flame. “Indeed. She is a strong, vivacious woman, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she rushes in at any moment to hug—”

  [Habby. I’m trying not to be too obvious. You know, in front of her freaking mom?]

  Habby froze for a moment, then finished. “Anyway, nothing to worry about.” He then poofed away of his own accord.

  Brisk footsteps sounded from a nearby hallway, and everyone in the waiting area suddenly sat up straight. A charge nurse entered. “The family of Tala Nez?” he asked.

  A family of five stood up and apprehensively approached. They spoke to the nurse in hushed tones for a few moments. Finally the nurse left. A woman who must be Tala’s mother wiped her eyes and spoke to the waiting area at large. “She’s okay!”

  There was a light smattering of applause.

  Another long wait, then another charge nurse. “Family of Kidane Alemu?”

  More good news.

  So many more names on the list though.

  “Captain Reiko Tetsumi?”

  Fushigi’s mother went up, but she didn’t look pleased when she came back.

  “Is everything all right?” Wally asked.

  She continued wringing her hands. “Corporal Faxton gave authorization to tell me that she’s all right, and in recovery. Fu, however… she’s alive and conscious, but trapped in her mechsuit. They’re still transporting her here. They might need help extracting her.”

  I chewed on my lip. “If it’s ice I can probably help.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Fulgen.” She sat down and stared at nothing.

  Another agonizing wait, and then we heard footsteps in the hallway again. I don’t know how, but I could tell just from the sound that something was wrong.

  This was not a nurse, but a doctor. He stepped reluctantly into the room.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  The man was bespectacled, bald, soft-spoken, kind of short. Very unassuming. But as he walked across the waiting area he was like a portent of doom.

  He stopped before the Lin family, got to one knee, and whispered quietly. After a moment they all stood and followed him. A woman, most likely Lin’s mother, was already sniffling.

  Wally watched as the family disappeared into a consultation room with the doctor. “Does that mean—?”

  “I don’t know what else it could mean,” I growled. “Damn it.”

  “Oh, that poor boy,” Captain Tetsumi whispered. Isabel Marin made a show of rubbing her eyes as if they were merely irritated. Her face had a grim bitterness I thought I recognized. She felt responsible.

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  Dante remained seated. He glared at me across the room, his eyes red and glistening. I was sure he was thinking of reasons why this was my fault too.

  We sat for a few more minutes. I heard a sound that might have been muffled wailing.

  Then I started as Marin’s phone rang. She quickly answered it. After a quick whispered conversation she stood.

  “All right people,” she said. “The hospital staff needs our fire sorcerers to melt some ice. Mr. Katsuro?”

  The young man stared uncomprehendingly at Marin for a moment, but he stood. “Wh-what am I doing?”

  “You need to help extricate Miss Fushigi from her suit. A nurse is on her way to escort you to triage.”

  “I can help too,” I said, standing quickly. Why had they picked Dante instead of me in the first place?

  “Sorry, Mr. Fulgen,” said Marin, “You’re needed in the OR.”

  “What?” Wally croaked.

  A nurse entered the room and waved Dante forward. I barely noticed because I was staring stupidly at Marin.

  “The… or? Or what?”

  “Operating room, Mr. Fulgen!” Marin snapped. She pointed as yet another nurse appeared. “Follow her! Hurry!”

  I stalked down the hallway after the nurse, awkwardly clipping a badge to my G-Tech uniform that said “SORCERER ASSIST – Temporary Clearance.”

  “Operating room,” I muttered to myself. “Of course I’d know that. From all the other times I’ve been called to the Shones-damned operating room.”

  A man in scrubs flagged us down, and we jogged over.

  “What’s this about?” I asked without preamble.

  “Mr. Fulgen?” One of them stepped forward and shook my hand. “I’m Dr. Andrew Feldman. We need your help with Eisner.”

  I followed them into a tiny scrub room, the operating room just beyond. I was feeling increasingly out of depth. “What do you need me to do?”

  “Mantis’s attack. Ice. It’s something sorcerers call absorption feedback. She hit him with more ice aether than he could absorb. He’s still half encased in ice and barely clinging to life. Three of your healers are working on him, but it’s barely doing anything. We need you to help thaw him out so we can treat him properly.”

  I heard a pained groan from the next room. Just an hour earlier I was over the moon, having beaten Marin in a test that proved my readiness to join a G-Tech team. This was not how I thought the day would proceed.

  I swallowed.

  “Okay,” I said, and strode toward the door into the operating room.

  “Wait!” said one of the nurses. “He needs to scrub up! Mask and gloves!”

  I grumbled—I was positive Chris had the same skill that made me immune to diseases and infections—but I submitted to wearing a surgical mask. When the nurse pointed me toward the sink I instead looked her dead in the eye, held my hands up, and set my lower arms on fire.

  Everyone stepped back as they felt the radiant heat. After a couple seconds I stopped the immolation.

  “I think they’re clean, don’t you?” I asked. “Think any germs are left? Want me to spritz some hand sanitizer on there just to be—”

  “Enough!” said Dr. Feldman. I felt a stab of shame. “Double glove him and let’s go! And Mr. Fulgen, I’m aware that you’re going to be using an open flame. Don’t get close to the oxygen tank!”

  I gawked at the chaos as I followed the doctor into the room.

  Chris lay mostly on the operating table. Only his head, shoulders, and arms were exposed, emerging from a huge thick chunk of ice. He was breathing rapidly, groaning every few seconds. A vitals monitor beeped off the charts.

  Yuki Aoshima from Team Ambassador had her hand to Chris’s forehead, her normally emotionless face grim. Tina Mariposa, Ambassador’s other healer, and Tara Strickland from Team Cyclone stood to the side, looking exhausted.

  The medical team quickly got back to work, moving with practiced coordination. Dr. Feldman joined two other doctors surrounding Chris. One had a bone saw, and the other had an electric tool I didn’t recognize. Dr. Feldman asked for a saw of his own, and they resumed slowly chipping away at Chris’s ice shell. The nurses stood by, each with a hand on a cart that had a stack of replacement saw blades.

  There were puddles of water on the floor, slowly seeping into a drain. There were also sparkling ice shavings and several small chunks of ice.

  Far too small.

  “Fulgen!” yelled Yuki. “Get in here!”

  “I—what—where—” I stumbled forward. Ice crunched under my feet. I wondered how the medical staff moved around without bumping into each other. I slunk around and found a position near Chris’s head as Yuki stepped aside and Tara took her place.

  “Chris?” I said. “Chris, can you hear me?”

  The older man’s head tossed listlessly. His face glistened with sweat.

  “What are you waiting for, Fulgen?” demanded Tara. “He’s dying!”

  “Right, um…” Still feeling dazed, I placed a hand on the ice shell, wincing. It was unnaturally cold, even through two pairs of gloves. As a kid I’d once gotten a wart on my knuckle and had it frozen off. This felt a little like that. Not knowing what else to do, I tried a gentle immolation.

  Chris’s pale blue eyes suddenly snapped open.

  He screamed, loud and piercing.

  “What the hell?” I pulled my hand back. “Why’d that hurt him?”

  “It didn’t,” said Dr. Feldman. “Not really. His lecti appeared for a moment when he first arrived here and gave us a rundown. His body—and his connection to the aether—are both confused. In short, his senses and his powers are somehow treating that ice like it’s part of him. We got similar results trying to drill into the ice, and even this chipping away is paining him.”

  “What do I do, then?”

  “No choice, young man. The longer he’s stuck like this the weaker he gets. He’s well past what you people call aether fatigue. Too much more strain could cause an aethervoir breach, and from what I understand, if that happens he’ll be beyond help. You’re going to have to thaw him out, no matter how he reacts!”

  “Shit. Shit!” I placed both of my hands on the ice and again used Immolation.

  Chris howled.

  Water dribbled down the side of the ice encasing him, first in drips, then trickles, then rivulets.

  Chris’s head turned toward me. His eyes were unfocused, crazed. His expression was alarming; it was one of absolute hatred.

  “Chris, it’s me!” I tried. “It’s Jett! We’re gonna get through this!”

  I didn’t know if I was reassuring him or myself.

  I tried switching to Feverflame to melt all the ice at once, but I could immediately tell the effect was too greatly reduced. Its heating effect was generalized across the object it touched, but it only raised temperature in small increments. The ice was too cold. Meanwhile, Chris’s face began to sweat even more. I’d cook his brain before I got him free.

  Switching back to a normal flame, I tried the only other trick I could think of: Heal Burns. Chris’s scream became more like a wail, a minor improvement, but as I watched my aethervoir drop it was clear using both skills at once wasn’t sustainable.

  ?Habby, you got anything for me? Any tips, anything I haven’t tried? Anything??

  [Hit and fade, Jett.]

  That was hardly profound, but my aethervoir was falling under 10%. I stepped back. “I’m recovering aether,” I said. I pulled my pepper pouch from a zip pocket on my uniform, pulled out my mask, and blindly shook several peppers into my mouth, chewing carefully and trying to let the pleasant burn calm me. I received odd looks from a couple of the nurses. I still had too much dried chili in my mouth to speak, so I just held out the pouch as if offering to share.

  No takers.

  My aethervoir bar rose rapidly. I waited until it cleared the halfway point, where the zone of my Rekindled Flame’s “Desperate” modifier ended, then I stepped forward and resumed torturing both Chris and myself.

  I shifted my position as Chris’s screaming kicked up again. He clawed for me, and I shifted my position to stay out of his reach. Weakened and delirious he might be, but he was nearly to tier four, and I had just reached tier three. I didn’t want to know what his grasping hands might do while he was like this.

  I was consumed by my grim task. Everything around me became a blur of impressions and moments. The monitor beeped like a bomb about to go off. I smelled bleach and snow and sweat. But mostly I felt the sharp cold against my gloved fingers and heard Chris’s never-ending screams.

  I took another breather. The mouthful of peppers would keep my aethervoir rising steadily for a couple of hours—or had it already been that long? Water dripped. Saws ground. Shouts rang. Chris’s screams fading into groans and sobs.

  After Shones knew how many more rounds, a piece of ice that must have weighed a hundred pounds finally cracked and dislodged, thudding heavily to the floor. I dully pushed it aside with my foot using my enhanced strength, getting it mostly out of the way. I moved to another area of Chris’s body, further away from his grasping hands. Other parts of the ice shell began to shift. The medical staff worked more large pieces free. Tina backed into the wall and slid down to a sitting position, sobbing until her nose dripped.

  The screaming. It just wouldn’t stop. Eventually another scream joined Chris’s, ringing out across the room as fire battled ice.

  It took me a while to realize the new scream was coming from me.

  $ shoutout.swap --stacked --clean

  

  by BooksByMandiMay ● Sci-Fi / LitRPG

  Maura ran a game store. Now she's trapped in a deadly multiverse tutorial and assigned a class extinct for fifteen eras: Technomancer. Half magic, half machine, zero instructions. She has to figure out powers nobody remembers and keep a group of strangers alive long enough for any of it to matter.

  // todo: Try not to die.