Dog Days

For someone who appears to be done with life, her workroom is surprisingly organized, with everything properly labeled and in the proper place. "So, what checkups are you going to run on us?" 

A properly neutral and sterilized room, more than the average, which is an impressive feat. Despite being neutral, a thing stands off in the room: a black door at the other end of the room. 

The door brings a bad feeling about it, making his unease about medics and doctors start itching. To be done here as soon as possible is his top priority. "Blood tests, for now. Can run the other stuff when I get time to spare."

Her voice is neutral, utterly uninterested in them. "Black-haired guy, you go first, then you, redhead." Again, she points at Cain, who steps forward. The tall doctor goes to one of the closets, opening it and taking a sterile blood sample taking syringes. 

"Go to the chair, and we will be done with it. Results may take a day or two to be done." Her voice tired, she points at a free chair, where Cain walks and sits on. Without wasting any time, the doctor goes on to take the blood sample.

At first, the needle has a problem trying to enter Cain's skin— being unable to even pierce it. "Oh, for fuck's sake, not this again." An angry grumble comes from the doctor. Suddenly, the needle becomes blood-red. "Let's try this time." With resistance, the needle enters Cain's arm, starting to extract blood from it.

The blood that enters the syringe is strange, unlike any blood he had seen— red, but with many black spots in it, moving at random sometimes, while standing still in others. "Doctor, is blood normally like that?"

Even the now aloof Cain is taken aback by this occurrence; something strange is going on. "In God's name, no, it isn't. The teenage boy had something strange with his blood, but not to that degree."

For the first time since they regrouped, Cain seems worried about something. As if feeling worried, the black spot movements start to become more erratic and frequent, before stopping when the sample is taken, moving like bubbles inside the blood.

"You are free to go. Going to take the sample back to the laboratory." The doctor walks to a door at the back of the room and enters it. Looking at his friend, Cain paled as if he was touched by a ghost.

"Hey, K.J. What may be wrong with my blood?" His friend sounded genuinely worried about the predicament, swallowing dry. How can you now? If a medic doesn't, why should he?

"Dunno, but you are okay and there doesn't appear to be anything wrong with you. Don't worry too much." If something bad were to happen, it should have already happened, worrying too much about dangers in your mind won't bring any good. Shaking his head, Cain rises from the chair.

In no time whatsoever, the doctor comes back from the black door, looking more tired than before. "Now is your turn. Tell me, are you another resistance freak immune to medical equipment?" The doctor asks in an accusing tone, looking at him with her eyes half closed, staring hard at him. 

"I… Think so? I mean, I'm fairly resistant and all." He never tested how high his endurance was, not after taking that blow from the big goblin. This is something he doesn't want to put to the test so soon. The doctor points towards the now vacant chair. Swallowing dry, K.J sits on it.

Again, the needle in her hand becomes blood-red— 'Must be something involving her powers.' Otherwise, it doesn't make sense why it can pierce their skin. The needle, however, finds greater resistance, even when it is blood-red.

Barely able to pierce the outer layers of his skin. "For fuck's sake, not another lion boy…" Shaking her head, Doctor Amelia holds the needle with more strength, making it glow in a faint red tone. The needle slowly makes its way in his arm, to start collecting blood.

A small, but entirely negligible, stinging pain affects the spot where the needle is, being more like a mosquito's bite than a needle. 'Getting powers does have its perks, after all.' But something is also wrong with his blood.

Instead of black spots, it has dark red stains, with a single vivid red core inside of them, almost like eyes. They do not move, but emit a faint red and angry glow out of them, as if they were— 'Flames.' It has something to do with Skoll.

"The needle's temperature is rising." Looking at the doctor's face, she looks concerned, before finally finishing the acquisition of the blood sample, looking overly worried at it. "This base is full of freak shows. Get out of my workplace, now."

Like a hammer, she gives her blunt ultimatum, drawing a growl out of Cain. "Just what is wrong with this woman?" She did no good in reassuring him of the doctors' and medics' worthiness. Rising from the chair, K.J looks at the needle's entrance, which is almost sealed up.

Even if the hole was just made a few seconds ago. "This… is indeed strange." Looking at Cain, the small needle hole is also closed up. Being part monster does something to help their resistance and regeneration…?

'I think there is something to worry about our blood, after all…' Would these powers make them unable to get blood transfusions if needed? Even if they bring great boons, they may as well kill them by bloodless if the stars align themselves.

Problems appear one after another, and no answer or help is in sight. 'And there is the whole shit with Spencer to solve… this day is going to be painfully long.' Exiting the infirmary, laboratory, whatever it was, the soldier, and Konrad were waiting for them.

"With this out of the way… I think it is fair for you guys to rest, or go eat something if the doctor allows it." That woman who just took their blood and didn't even give a band-aid? Whatever is going on with her, is not worthy of another interaction.

"I can smell my way to the mess hall. So, Cain, Konrad? Are you guys up to it?" The boy shakes his head, walking away. 

"I have some errands to do, talk to my friends and check if they are okay. I already know the place, so you guys can go on without me, okay?"

In his tone, a small lie. 'You just don't want to be around Cain, isn't it?' Truth be told, his friend has been a little unstable since the start of everything, but he is no bad person… "Okay, good luck, Konrad."

Waving at the boy, the redhead sighs. There is no merit in pursuing that line of thought. Just pray for the day to not get worse after everything is said and done. 

The soldier sighs, shaking his head, but there is no ill intent in his actions— 'Guess children will be children in his eyes'  In a way, they are.

"So, to the mess hall we go." The soldier announces, starting to walk. Honestly, they could just walk there on their own, but right now? It just doesn't matter. Why spoil the mood?

The "trio" makes their way towards the mess hall.

(...)

Walking inside the hall, it has been left like yesterday: full of people. Many swells intertwine and disappear inside this place.

The faces of people come and go, vanishing into the crowd, an unsettling feeling. How many of them lost their loved ones? How many of them are grieving and coping? Being just another shadow amongst many in this great tragedy?

Many of them are unlucky, probably even more than Lily, suffering more than her. In a certain way, his friends and himself could be considered lucky for having only manageable problems…

'Is it normal? This tragedy?' K.J never had such powerful senses before. He had never seen anything like this before. Is this how soldiers cope daily when on tragic battlefields? 

The fact that smells appear and disappear inside this place is strange as if they never existed. Another shadow vanishes into the darkness. As if someone purposely blocked your view with obstacles and abstract art. A strange new sensation brought by a new feeling…

What a melancholic situation. Looking at Cain, his face appears to reflect the same thoughts as his. Dogs of a pack think alike. K.J walks to the end of the waiting line, standing there as the soldier guiding him comes close. "You can just go there and get your plate, boy."

He could, yet it wouldn't feel right with everything that happened. He has powers, they do not. How could he put them under him for something so small and insignificant? He is no hero nor altruistic, but there is a limit to how petty he can be.

A guiding tone in his voice, mixed with surprise. "Don't worry, I can wait in line. Go see Cain check if he wants—" Just at the end of the young man's words, his friend advanced to get his plate. Not an ounce of shame or refusal in his body language and face. If you get the tools, use them.