Triage

Without the goad of the sun, I woke up slowly. Possibly multiple times.

"How long?" I asked.

A female other than Kasithma responded. "Two days since the incident. Your back seems to be healing well, but we had to cut your left arm off to save your life."

I blinked, verified with my System that a new limb would be grown in three months, less if I gave it additional biomass.

"I've survived worse." I said. But she'd moved on while I checked with my System.

I sat up, took a look around the medic cubicle. There were seven of my fellow candidates, in various forms of dismemberment. There were fractures in their living stone, sutured with … not concrete, but close enough.

The entire area stank of black blood and sewage; one of my fellows was quietly weeping, clutching his blood soaked side. I couldn't remember his name, and tried to remember that I didn't care.