LAPIS :Chapter 5:

"C'mon man, wake up."

I blink, my eyes adjusting to the lights that were just turned on in my new room. Unlike at Liber, Gelus has enough space, and apparently enough funding, to allow each soldier to have their own room, which I personally don't understand. Why wouldn't you spend money on something usual, like security? Who knows, the Vivrex is too glamorous for his own good.

But hey, at least the bed is comfortable.

I look up, finding Cent staring down at me, an expression an irritation stamped on his face. I groan as I pull my comforter partially over my face. "What, what do you want Cent?" I ask groggily, "You do realize roll call isn't until nine today right?"

I look over at the clock, which clearly reads 6:54 am. Cent sighs, rolling his eyes. "And don't you realize that you have a check-up before roll call at 7:45?" Cent replies with a smirk.

My eyes burst open, and I quickly sit upright in the sheets, causing my head to start pounding with an intense pain. It seems that sleep hasn't really helped my current condition. Without meaning to, I put my hand to my head, finding the bandages still there. Oh yeah, that was only a week ago.

Cent laughs. "What, do you think that when you wake up, your head will be magically healed?" he asks as he raises an eyebrow.

I chuckle myself, looking over at him as I pull the sheets over. "No, I guess it's just affecting the way my mind works," I say with a grin.

He smiles. "Nah, your mind's been messed up for a while. The gash just released the idiocy locked in your head," he comments as he gestures at the bandages.

"Oh shut up," I answer with a small, but non-serious glare.

He smirks as he watches me stand up, "Why? Just saying the truth."

"Cent-"

"Less talking, more walking. C'mon, you need to get dressed," Cent interrupts, tossing me a t-shirt.

I chuckle, but nod in agreement. As I pull the shirt over my head, as gently as I can considering my condition, I'm unaware as Cent's demeanor has suddenly shifted. Though, I get a hint of it when I hear a drawn out sigh, followed by the short squeak of springs as Cent plops on the other side of my bed. I adjust my shirt, then turn, surprised to see that he looks, well, concerned. His eyes are focused on the world outside my window, the dim landscape hard to make out except for the line where the mountain peaks meet the sky.

After a moment or so, I look back at him, and sigh. "Dude, what is it? Just a second ago, you were clowning around," I comment as I walk around the end of the bed so to stand beside him.

Cent looks ups at me, the strength in his brown eyes surprising. I still have a hard time accepting that he's older than me, even if it is by only a month. But still, he being older means that for years, I was the second place to his age given first spot, though his personality fooled everyone into thinking that I must be at least two years older than him. Still, he and I both knew it, and therefore, he used it against me. From unimportant arguments of who gets the last candy to who got to do what part of a partner assignment in class, I normally got the short end of the stick. Well, that is until I had my growth spurt, after, he stopped rather quickly, as he knew he could no longer use size or his age to intimidate me (not that he did in the first place). Though, he can still do it one way, and that's with his eyes. For some reason, whenever he stares at me in a serious way, he grabs my utmost attention, and I can’t help but listen to him. It’s so intense that goose bumps form on my arms, though fortunately he's never noticed it.

"Cent, what is it?" I ask.

He doesn't reply for a moment, his eyes shifting away, looking down at the tile floor, tracing the grout holding them in place with his eyes, something I've noticed he does when he thinks. I swallow hard, as it's when he thinks like this that I'm usually hit with a hard question or something along those lines.

"It's the sixth day, Man," he replies finally.

I blink in surprise. "Huh?" I answer, not following his thinking.

He groans. "Dude, your brain really is flickering, isn't it?" he asks, flicking me on the forehead.

I jolt a bit, my brow furrowing. "Hey, I just don't know what you mean-" I start.

"I wonder how long until she goes insane," Cent interrupts, returning his gaze to the world outside.

My eyes widen as his words hit my eardrums.

". . . in the process, there is a limit where the Jeweloid may or may not go into a state of confusion or even slight criminal insanity. It's caused by the type of radiation that their power shocks leave over, as well as stress. . . . In that moment, when she knows just how to use her powers . . . she can . . . and will kill you."

Anyola's emotionless words speed through my mind. Instantly, I make the connection between the memory and Cent's words. He's referring to Maggie, the new Jeweloid; Jeweloid 009. She was taken to the Power Processor around a week ago, and since, I haven't heard any news of her. I'm hoping that she's already out of there, but my gut says otherwise.

For the rest of my dressing, Cent just sits there, silent. It's not until I begin for the door that he finally moves, getting the door for me as I zip up my jacket. I look over at him, and his eyes meet mine, and at this moment, I understand.

He's just as worried about her as I am.

Though, our communication ends there, as we soon are walking down a hall rounding around the Soldiers' Quarters area of Gelus. I look, watching as the soldiers, male and female, all give me the same look of surprise, and well, just curiosity. I guess I must look rather odd, walking around with bandages around my head, and it only being my first week. I wouldn't be surprised if rumors will start floating around sooner or later as to why I am in my current condition. Most will probably stage me as some thug that got into it with a higher ranked officer. I'm not going stop it though, in fact, I'll go along with some of it. Some thug like standards will make me appear a bit more intimidating, which I could use to my advantage later on if need be. Though, I know boundaries with such stories, and going too far could come back to bite me.

"Ah, Isugoro, nice to see that you’re up and walking around."

I blink, looking up to see that I'm now in a medical room, a familiar doctor sitting at a desk in front of me. I glance around a bit, my mind blank when I try to recall walking in here. My gut turns a bit as I realize my situation. Wow, I really am blacking out.

"Go on Goro, I'll come back and check in, in about a half hour," I hear Cent say from the doorway, before his footsteps begin to echo down the hall, quickly fading off.

When did Cent and I arrive here? Was I really so focused on the new stories that may be going around about me that I zoned out that bad?

Random thoughts keep flying through my mind, popping out of nothing and making absolutely no sense. Though, I try to hide my current confusion, giving a grin as I reach across the desk to shake his hand. His hold is firm.

"Nice to see you too Doctor," I answer normally as I release his hand, and begin over to an examining seat in the corner of the room.

"Wait a moment Isugoro," he instructs.

I stop, turning back to face him. It's now that I make out that his eyes are a gray blue, hidden slightly by his glasses. His slicked back black hair comes to about his shoulders, a little longer in the back, the slack in the gel he uses causing it to have a slight shine to it. He notices my eyes wandering around his head, and he chuckles.

"It seems that your mind is still having the tendency to wander off," he comments.

I blink, looking him back in the eyes. Seeing the amusement in his expression makes my expression fall, and I quickly avert my gaze. "Oh, uh, s-sorry," I apologize, hating that I look like a fool.

Again, he chuckles, though this time it's closer to an actual laugh. He puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Don’t get embarrassed, Isugoro. It's fine, it's normal for this to happen, it'll wear off in about a week or two," he replies as he leads me to the chair.

"Good, that's nice to hear," I answer honestly.

"Well, actually, in your case, it may be even sooner," he comments.

I lift my head up, turning to meet his eyes. "What do you mean?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

The doctor pauses a moment, then he sits in a chair at a nearby desk, pondering a thought I presume. "Isugoro, have you ever seen someone sustain such an injury as you have?" the doctor asks as he turns the chair back to face me.

I pause for a moment, but shake my head anyway. "No, I wouldn’t say that I’m from a big town," I answer plainly.

"Well, let me tell you Isugoro, a normal person with this same type of injury would of had a concussion, maybe even gone into a coma if it was bad enough," he explains, "But you, you just simply suffered from blood loss, and the small hindering of your brain wandering off, which is probably due to your brain still recuperating from the blood loss at the time."

"Does that not happen a lot?" I ask, my interest fading.

"I've seen a few cases like yours before, but their injuries were much less severe," the doctor explains, looking down at the clipboard in his hands with my records probably attached.

"So, what exactly are you saying?" I ask as I cross my arms.

"Isugoro, you have a miraculous healing speed," the doctor admits, "I've only seen Jeweloids with such an impressive healing speed, though of course, yours is nowhere close to theirs. But, I think you understand my comparison."

"Oh . . . I see." I answer, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible.

"Have you always been a fast healer?" he asks.

I shrug vaguely. I hate these conversations.

"I'm not sure, I've never really had an injury this bad," I answer with deceit laced in my words.

"What was the worst before this incident?" he replies.

Crap. I look away as I think, "Um . . . I dislocated my shoulder once when I was 15."

Well, it’s not a lie; that did happen.

He thinks for a moment, before he speaks again, "How long was it before you regained full use of your arm?"

"If I remember correctly, a week, maybe a week and a half," I say.

"Well, that's a bit quicker than normal, your recovery speed was a week faster," he comments, "Mr. Jintez, it would appear that you're a rare gem when it comes to healing."

I blink. I wouldn't count myself as a rare gem, but hey, whatever floats your boat.

"Thank you," I answer with a forced grin.

He smiles, and with that, he stands, walking over to a cabinet. He opens the door to reveal gauze, bandages, syringes, and other unknown types of medical supplies. Though, he takes a roll of white bandages and gauze from the middle shelf, grinning as he turns back towards me. I grin back, watching him hum some tune to himself as he sets up his tools to change out my bandages. It seems not of this time, something . . . rather old. Although, it does sound catchy.

"What's the song?" I ask.

The doctor blinks, apparently not expecting me to strike up a conversation with him. Though, he relaxes quickly, and shrugs. "I'm not sure, I heard a Jeweloid singing it a day ago," he replies, "The words though got stuck in my head."

"What are the words?" I reply as I reach into my pocket.

"Hmm . . . part of me-" he starts.

"Wait," I interrupt as I pull out my personal rod from my back pocket, clicking a button on top to turn on the holographic screen. The doctor looks perplexed as I press the blinking icons on the glowing projection, trying to find a certain system I had added recently. Before long, I see an old fashioned mic icon, and I grin. With a few more clicks, I turn it to a voice/word recognition system, and I hand it to him, "Say it now."

The doctor blinks, but nods as he takes the rod delicately. ". . . watch your shadow fade . . . poison in your mouth . . . part of me . . . take away from me . . . sticks and stones . . . break my soul . . . throw my phone away . . . there for me . . . tearing at the seams. . . ." he repeats, vaguely sounding out a rhythm as he continues to remember the words.

I raise an eyebrow as he continues to attempt the words. This does not sound like a very happy song.

Without warning, the screen shifts, lighting up, surprising the doctor. "What's happening?" he asks.

"The system found a word match in your lyrics," I answer with a bit of a surprised tone, taking the rod from him. After a few seconds of searching, the projection comes to a screen which shows a woman, her hair short and blonde, and making a weird pose. My eyebrow rises quizzically as I look over the picture, but I continue on, "Now then, let's see what this really sounds like."

With another set of pressing buttons, we hear a short lead in beat, before a woman's voice, belonging to the woman on the screen I presume.

"Days like this I want to drive away. . . . pack my bags and watch your shadow fade. . . . You chewed me up and spit me out like I was poison in your mouth. You took my light, you let me drown, but that was then, and this is now. Now look at me!" the woman's voice sings loud, determined, and clear, "This is the part of me that you're never gonna ever take away from me! This is the part of me that you're never gonna ever take away from me! Throw your sticks and stones, throw your bombs and your blows, but you're not gonna break my soul! This is the part of me that you're never gonna ever take away from me, no! . . . ."

I grin as we continue to listen to the strong voice. Well, I guess I was wrong.

"Very inspirational," the doctor comments after another moment or so of the song, "What year did that come out?"

I look over the overview, trying to find a date.

"Sometime around 2012," I reply as I read what information there is.

"Wow, really?" he answers, "Weird, that time period had such good songs."

"Seems like it, but most of the music and other information of that time was wiped out with the Continental Apocalypse," I comment.

"Yes, such a shame really," he answers, before perking up, "But hey, in time, hopefully some of these Jeweloids can fill in the holes in history. Some of them must have lived around these time periods."

I nod in agreement. "Yeah, definitely, Maggie for one is from 2015," I add, before blinking in surprise as I realize what I said.

The doctor's eyes widen. "Maggie? Who's Maggie?" he asks.

"Uh, she's that new Jeweloid," I reply, running a hand through my hair.

"Oh yes, the one that gave you this gash in the first place," he answers with a chuckle as he begins to cut off my bandages.

"Hey, don't blame her. She didn't know she was doing it," I comment, feeling somewhat defensive all of a sudden.

He raises an eyebrow, picking up on my sudden change as well. Though, instead of scolding me, or reminding me once again of that Law I keep hearing about, he simply grins, turning his eye to my injury. "Ah, I see. Well then, I hope she'll learn not to do something like this again," he says, his tone calm as he works, “It’ll definitely keep us from meeting like this again in the near future.”

I don't reply, rather letting him go on and focus on changing my bandages then continue the current conversation. I'd rather not think about Maggie. The more I do focus on her, the more I begin to think about how she may be doing in the Power Processor. And, the more I think about that, the more my concern about her well-being grows. Thus, it’s a never ending cycle of increasing stress.

And as proven to me, I have every right to be.

"Doctor Stronos! Doctor Stronos!"

The doctor blinks, turning at the call, telling me that this must be his name. He leaves my side and walks quickly to the door. Upon opening it, he reveals a nurse, made apparent by the different type of patch on her coat, looking rather frantic and out of breath. Doctor Stronos' brow furrows as he meets her eyes.

"Miss Dallas, what's wrong?" he asks.

"S-Sir, we're going to need your assistance, five officers are headed up to the medical unit as we speak with mortal wounds," she explains.

His eyes widen in surprise. "What level of officer are the incoming patients?" he asks, his tone more serious.

"Three Lieutenants, a Major, and a newly joined private," she answers.

Now my eyes widen. Who would be able to take out four high ranked officers?

"How did they sustain their injuries?" Dr. Stronos asks, as if he had read my mind.

She gulps. "T-The new one . . . she took them out. . . ." she trails, her eyes finding the floor.

My eyes widen in alarm as I make the connection.

No . . . she couldn't be talking about-

"Squad 3, head to the Power Processor! Jeweloid 009 is at peak!" I hear a radio crack in the corner of the room, "Note that she has already taken out both Squad 1 and 2! Be vigilant and extremely careful!"

Dr. Stronos gasps, grabbing the radio quickly.

"She took them both out? But they've never been taken out altogether-" Dr. Stronos starts.

"ARRGH!"

I turn at the alarming grunts coming down the hall, looking through the tinted window to see an army of doctors and nurses swarmed around gurneys. As I look closer, I catch a glimpse at the first being wheeled by, and it's a horrible sight to behold. Though not totally bloodied, you can tell he's gotten the shit beaten out of him, his face pulverized and swollen. As he passes, I see part of the next, and she's worse than the first. Her face isn't as decimated, but there are two clean gun shots to her abdomen, and her legs look like they were mauled at by a wild animal. I begin to feel the life in my body disappearing as I see the next two. They have similar injuries to the sides, making me assume they attacked at the same time. It's obvious that they have several broken ribs, maybe a punctured lung, made more evident as they both cough up blood. Though . . . it's the fifth that gets me.

A younger guy, maybe 17, Maggie's age . . . his lower body is covered in a blood soaked towel, his upper body riddled with bullet wounds, roughly ten or twelve easy just in his lower chest. His face is caked in blood, a large gash ripped across his forehead . . . as if his head was repeatedly bashed into a wall . . .

I see her face flash before my eyes, her expression the warm smile she wore as she spoke with Cent and I. I feel myself getting lightheaded, looking away finally. Though, as I do, I hear a monitor begin to sound an unbearable sound . . . flat line. . . .

I swallow, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to concentrate hard so to prevent myself from becoming sick. I see her shaking. She’s so innocent.

No, it's not possible . . . she didn't. . . . Maggie couldn't have. . . .

"I hate blue! It's my least favorite color of all time! . . . I mean, whenever I see blue, it's just depressing. It's the color of sadness for a reason, y'know!" . . . "Sorry for bashing you into a wall.”

I feel my knuckles beginning to go white as I clutch tight to the chair, my heartbeat quickening. I can sense that Dr. Stronos has noticed my current reaction, as I feel someone holding on tight to my shoulder, followed by some muddled speaking. I can’t pull myself out, my worries become a reality as my interactions with her play back faster and faster.

"Hey, you look like a guy . . . that was in . . . my dream! You're wearing weird clothes . . . for being a doctor, especially here . . . in Alaska-"

"Isugoro, can you hear me?" I barely hear Dr. Stronos ask me, his tone concerned.

For some reason, the ability to speak has left me, flown off with my sane ideas and ability to preserve my composure. I look up and somehow find his face, trying to lock on to his eyes through my blurring sight. It seems my vision has left me as well.

"Doctor . . . please," I somehow croak out.

My drastic changes have put Dr. Stronos on high alert, holding me firmly as he tries to keep my stare aligned with his. "Isugoro, please, keep conscious," I hear him say, his voice echoing.

"Doctor, what's wrong with him?" I hear a female ask, maybe the nurse?

"I'm not sure, he was fine until the soldiers went passed, then he started going into some sort of shock," he replies, "Please, get me fluids."

"N-No, I’m fine. . . ." I trail, "Please, just. . . ."

My vision blurs, though now all I see is blue. Odd, but it's then that I find I'm viewing another memory, my eyes soon met with Maggie's image again. Her eyes, mysterious, but warm as her bright laughter consume my thoughts.

She’s too innocent for this world.

"Goro."

I grit my teeth, seeing the last moment play again and again.

"Is that your name?"

She sounds so much like-

“I-Isugoro?!”

"Let me go!" I yell, whipping my head up, taking Dr. Stronos by surprise as I overcome his hold.

"Isugoro, what do you mean?" he asks, perplexed by my request as he forces me back down into the chair with the nurse’s help.

"M-Maggie . . . Maggie, she-" I start as I try to stand again.

"Oh, Hell no, you are to go nowhere near that Jeweloid, not in your condition. You'd be dead as soon as she saw you," Dr. Stronos interrupts, pushing me back into the seat with a much greater strength than before, "That Jeweloid, though strong, is just a Jeweloid, this will eventually pass, and she'll be normal again."

"She needs me," I argue, looking him square in the eye.

Dr. Stronos watches me for a moment in shock, noticing that I'm sweating a lot. I guess the shock really has gone to my head. He looks over at the nurse, who’s cheeks are flushed, probably due to being tired. She returns an expression that I can only describe as sympathy. Dr. Stronos’ brow furrows, and he sighs. "Isugoro, it's true that you have been a great deal of help and support to her so far on her journey here at Gelus. But listen to me, if you were to go there, now, in your condition, she'd kill you in less than two seconds. Then, once she is sane again, tell me, who will be there then to support her, huh? Who will comfort her when she comes to from the madness?" Dr. Stronos explains, becoming quieter, "Isugoro, you aren't staying out here for just yourself, but for her as well. She will need you again once she's come to. . . . You won't be any help dead."

Now I watch him, my breathing becoming coarser. Well damn it, he's actually made a good point. In frustration, I let out an aggravated grunt, falling back into the seat. His brow furrows.

"It seems you understand what you must do," he replies, before letting out a long exhale, "Stay still, I still need to wrap your new bandages around your head."

I don't give a damn, I just sit there, my eyes squeezed shut, my hands tight in fists, and my jaw clenched shut, so I won't let out any of my anger on anyone else but myself. No one else deserves it, not Doctor Stronos, not the nurses, no one. I'm the only one here that's a failure.

I'm the only one that's too helpless to keep a promise.