406. Angry Healers? A Blue Moon?

406. Angry Healers? A Blue Moon?

The Asclepien saw more life in the week following the disaster than the entire 15 years it had stood. Countless thousands of injured personnel limped their way to the vast fields surrounding the needle-shaped tower in droves.

Caldera Industries workers arrived missing limbs and their prized weapons. CogitO were brought atop wagons drowning in the pieces of fellow comrades. What was left of the Liquidators were dragged by surviving members for emergency healing.

Even a week after the incident people were still being sent to the doorstep of the Asclepien. The suffering was thick as wails filled the air of a once innocent place. Blood saturated the stone roads and sept deep into the cracks, feeding the undergrowth as an unbearable stench assaulted the noses of new arrivals.

They handled their own personnel poorly, allowing them to thrash and jolt, which only exacerbated their injuries. From those missing organs to others impaled with household objects and rebar – the healers were forced to work through conditions that rattled them to the core.

“A bunch of healers are free over here! Watch your step! Walk around!” A limbless Liquidator roared as a heap of rounded scrap was brought over to a small collection of healers.

“You’re stepping on the injured!” Another called.

Rows of injured were laid out on pale cots as tents were erected to prevent them from roasting in the sun. Hundreds rested as people scrambled between the narrow gaps between. People were trampled upon as the Liquidators struggled to maintain order.

Clashes were inevitable in any space shared by multiple Ateliers. Egos were high, but so were the concerns for fallen associates. It was a shame that their worries were selective.

Where the Liquidators knew how to handle the injured appropriately, others failed to adopt their practices, leading to more work for the healers. They were far too preoccupied with themselves.

“Keep your mouth shut and do something useful than just running your mouth!” A CogitO member argued.

“You have enough prosthesis as it is. We’ll give you one for your mouth if you don’t shut up! MOVE! Hey! Healers! We have another one – GARGH –!?” Suddenly, a bullet carved through the stomach of a Caldera Industries personnel.

A member of the Peace Flock opened fire to subjugate them, leaving them writing on the floor as a healer rushed to their aid.

“Leave the injured where you stand. I will not ask again.” The Peace Flock member warned, watching the bleeding sphere being rolled towards the healers. “Slow it down! Watch where the healers stand, or we will shoot!”

It dripped with blood like a squeezed fruit. The heap of scrap were the crushed remains of multiple Liquidators and civilians, rolled up into a boulder by the invading Impuritas. It was heavy, and the hearts of the healers sunk the moment they plonked it before them with a metallic squelch.

They were long gone, but the Golden Middle members begged them to fix them regardless. Heaps of scrap were peeled away like the skin of a pomegranate, revealing a putrid blend of limbs. None could differentiate who those limbs belonged to anymore as they spilled from the cavity like the yolk of an egg.

“Don’t ask for the impossible.” A Liquidator demanded, speaking over the slurry of blended flesh that quickly pooled. “Healers can't undo death. Collect their scraps and give them a burial. Would you like a shovel?”

Their apathetic words stirred further outrage, even though it was a sincere gesture of help. The situation had barely improved over the course of a week as more and more people were recovered from the ruins, and by now those from furthest reaches of the Nex Megalopolis were finally trickling in.

The most aggravating of injuries were handled internally within the Asclepein. Few of the sacred Perched could be seen walking with the company of the Justicers as they casted a continuous aura of Area Heal.

The situation at the gates dividing the outskirts from the inner parts of the City of Clubs was just as chaotic. Healing liquids were sprayed upon the masses via magical artillery. Columns of smoke trails littered the skies, creating a web as healing liquid showered major settlements.

Entire pools were filled to the brim with the crimson healing liquid. Healers were constantly fed with blue mana potions, some preferring to have them as injectables. The sheer number of injured overwhelmed the poor healers stationed at the gates as many hands reached out for them, desperate for healing.

“... P-Please wait! I can’t heal you all!” A healer cried, unable to keep up with the demand as a Liquidator immediately took her place, pricking every hand with healing Serums.

Not all fronts were quite like this. Further south the healing process was far more organized. There was order to the chaos despite how things seemed. In fact, progress was moving smoothly and faster than anticipated.

Newbie healers had their work cut out for them. Veteran healers were on the brink of exhaustion, but they refused to allow themselves to rest. Their selfless endeavor was the heart of Inflow Direct’s humanitarian effort.

“Black strand healers. Like you. Someone big wants to say hello according to my intel. The top brass doesn’t like to speak all that much. Just doing what I’m told. Get your friends to head into that tower over there.” She pointed the handle of her blade at the Asclepien, her eyes wandering over to the many rows of injured that lay just outside. “I keep forgetting that this used to be the norm until recently. I’ve been spoiled over in Atlas for too long. Well, that’s a shame.”

“Is that all you have to say?” The healer grumbled.

“I’m not a healer to care what happens to them. Inflow Direct’s gotten softer. Would be easier to cut down their losses or use this as an opportunity to put those guys over into their debt.” The woman saw things in an entirely different lens, thinking only on how to exploit the situation. “Ridiculous. Head over there, ok? Don’t want to get sent on a hell train for one misbehaving healer.”

“Not even going to hint on who this person might be? I know you know.”

“Some person called the Black Dove from what I heard. They have too much heat to be a normal Color. I’m guessing they’re something like the White Wing. Not someone I want to show my face around.” The woman wandered off, seeking for other black-stranded healers.

She blended into the crowd, detected only by the members of Justica Arms who watched her every move with weapons drawn.

“I can’t go anywhere without being suspected.” She pointed her nose to the tiny moon in the sky.

“Just doing what we’re told.” The captain of the small Peace Flock unit repeated the same words the woman shared with the healer, causing her to smirk.

Suddenly, the woman’s hair grew down to her waist as her hair transformed into a deep, reflective blue. Her black suit turned into a similar color, matching well with her ocean-colored eyes.

“Ahaha. Of course Galia would put countermeasures against us. She’s more vengeful than she looks. Hmm~ Consider our encounter a good omen~” She hummed, her voice morphing from deep to a high-pitched, feminine tone as she disappeared into the crowd.

“C-Captain? Are you talking to someone?” One of the Peace Flock members asked with concern.

The man deeply sighed.

“Once in a blue moon you’ll see things you wish you hadn’t. Looks like CogitO’s getting heavily involved now.” He spoke.

“Aren’t they already?”

“You’ll never know until you come across a Blue Moon.” Another laughed as the Captain remained silent. “CogitO never sends them out unless they’re prepared to take drastic action.”

Soon, his laughter subsided as all eyes fell onto the Captain.

“Wait... did you... see one?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I can only give my condolences to those they seek outside of the sphere of the healers. Pray that you never come face to face with one yourself.” The captain didn’t elaborate further; however, it was clear that he was shaken by the encounter.

Because what he saw wasn’t a woman, but a monster having taken the form of his worst nightmare. Blue Moons were capable of psychologically tormenting those that happened to gaze upon them without their knowledge.

Blue Moons were CogitO’s personal Moons that served as their own personal messenger. They are bureaucratic Moons that seldom fought and preferred personal encounters. They were treated as equally an ill and good omen when one came across them by chance.

As their namesake suggested, they were quite rare, and many questioned their legitimacy.

Whatever the case was – CogitO had deployed some of its most powerful personnel onto the chessboard.

For what reason, however, was yet to be determined.