Breachers – Path of Steel

25

I

Red Shower

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Day 19

Marcus

Marcus slowly blinked his eyes open, his body aching as if he’d been through a rough tumble the entire night. He found himself on the cold, unforgiving hospital floor, staring up at the familiar ceiling he had spent the last few weeks looking up at. Confusion swept over him as he took in his surroundings, wondering why he was on the floor. He slowly noticed how two nurses hovered over him, their voices filled with worry as they tried to get his attention. His vision blurred for a moment before clearing, allowing him to focus on their concerned faces. More and more he became aware of the state of his body, making it feel like it was all one big bruise. He blinked a few more times before he shifted his gaze to the wall-mounted clock. The hands showed it was still early, around six in the morning.

“I’m fine,” Marcus mumbled, his movements labored as he sat up and gently brushed aside the concerned hands that reached out to him. Sitting upright felt like a Herculean effort, every muscle in his body protesting with a chorus of pain, and his skin felt tender as if someone had scraped it raw. ‘God, it’s like I got tasered all night,’ he thought, struggling to piece together the previous night’s events while brushing away more hands. “I said I’m fine.”

"But there is blood everywhere!" one of the nurses pointed out as she took a step back. Marcus hissed a moment as he lifted himself and leaned on the edge of his bed for support.

‘Blood?’ Marcus's mind raced as he looked down at his clothes, the discovery of dried, rust-colored stains sending a jolt of shock through him. He hesitantly reached up and swiped his hand across his face, the tackiness beneath his fingers confirming the presence of more blood. He held his palm out, his own bloodstained hand evidence enough that he had lost more than a fair bit. Memories of the previous night slowly resurfaced, reminding him of what had happened—what he had done to himself.

“I’m okay... just fell out of bed and busted up my nose,” he muttered, brushing aside their concerns as he lied through his teeth. With some effort, he pried their concerned hands from his bloodstained shirt and staggered toward the bathroom door, coaxing his aching body to cooperate. Halfway there, he remembered that his crutches were still next to his bed. He had gotten them several days ago, a hopeful sign from his physical therapist and doctor that he was ready to transition from a wheelchair to walking under supervision. ‘I feel awful... but different,’ he noticed as he pushed open the bathroom door and shuffled towards the sink to glimpse himself in the mirror. When he did, a gruesome sight confronted him. His body was covered in dried blood, as if it had seeped from every pore, including his nose and eyes. His ashen complexion gave him the appearance of a character from a horror tale. Somewhere in the background, another nurse arrived, conversing with her colleagues before heading toward the bathroom. Her wide-eyed gaze and gasp mirrored what Marcus was feeling. ‘Yeah, that reaction seems about right.’ A grin, despite the blood on his face, tugged at Marcus's lips as he turned to look at the newcomer. “I tripped and bumped my nose,” he nonchalantly shared as he turned the sink’s tap and started washing his hands. “Don’t worry, it looks worse than it really is.”

“Worse?” the nurse inquired, her gaze assessing Marcus briefly before she moved a step closer. “You look like we should be calling the morgue instead of the doctor,” she remarked, her eyes shifting to the swirling red pattern in the sink where blood and water mixed. “But seriously, how are you feeling?”

“Sore... and kinda cold after a night on the floor. I wouldn’t recommend it,” Marcus explained, afterwards gathering water in his partially cleaned hands and splashing it onto his face. He repeated the action until he could recognize the man hidden beneath the bloodstains. Even now, weeks later, he found it bizarre just how young he still looked. After a final splash, he wiped away the last remnants of blood and ran his fingers through his long dark hair, pushing it back to reveal the black marks on the upper right side of his face. “But I’m good, honestly. Strangely, I feel better than I have in weeks, like this was something I needed,” he said, whispering the last bit to himself.

The nurse hesitated, her demeanor reflecting a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. “So, you needed to smash your face into the hospital floor hard enough to black out... just to feel better?” Her gaze shifted briefly to her colleagues before she continued. “Look, despite how you might be feeling, there’s a significant amount of blood on the floor and... well, all over you.” She cleared her throat as she took a step closer. “How about you take my arm, and we’ll get you settled back into your bed? We need to figure out what caused the fall, especially considering your recent episodes a few days ago. Alright?” Her tone was gentle and concerned as she extended her arm in an inviting manner. “We’ll get a doctor in to see you as soon as possible, and one of us will call your brother or sister and—”

“No,” Marcus said suddenly, the strength in his voice surprising both himself and the nurses. He clutched the edges of the sink, straightening until he stood at his full height, as if investing more influence into his next words. “The hospital doesn’t need to bother my family over this. They’re already dealing with enough, and they don’t need to be burdened with every little tumble I take.” He then offered the nurse a strained and bloodied smile before taking a step toward her, gently ushering her out of the room instead of accepting her arm.

The nurse backed away for a moment, clearly baffled by the unfolding situation, as Marcus gradually closed the door. “But, what about the doctor? You really should be in bed while we make sure you’re okay!”

“Honestly, I feel fine, really. You can run all your tests later, once I’ve had my shower,” Marcus insisted, lifting his hand to halt the nurse’s impending protest. “I’m taking that shower, whether you’re on board or not. You three can complain outside until I’m finished. I’ll leave the door unlocked.” An awkward pause hung in the air for a moment before the nurse released an exasperated sigh. “Great. And when you call the doctor, make sure to let him know that I want Erwin as my physical therapist for the next few days,” Marcus added, closing the door behind him.

Marcus caught snippets of the nurses’ conversation beyond the door, their voices tinged with concern and remarks about his stubbornness. After a minute or so, he slowly started to believe that he had gotten away with it. He gingerly removed his blood-soaked shirt, revealing his pale upper body. He glanced at the extra weight he had put on in recent days, determinedly attempting to bulk up by consuming a lot more, yet he was still far away from looking like his old self. Marcus’s gaze slowly shifted to his chest, where more black marks were fused into his flesh. His fingers carefully explored them, sensing their significance. He then traced delicate lines around one of the marks, feeling the twenty smaller wounds around it. Each touch caused a jolt of discomfort while unlocking a wave of memories from the previous night. ‘Activate HUD,’ he thought, a section of his mind flaring up to display a transparent overlay. He noticed the time and how accurate it had gotten these last few days, but a blinking notification demanded his attention at that moment.

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[Endurance] [+1]

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He managed a soft smile at the sight of his second stat increase. ‘It almost killed me, but I pulled it off.’ His focus drifted back to his wounds, replaying the memory of how he had pierced himself with 20 Monster-Glass pieces that the robo-Marcus had collected over the last few days. The sudden increase to his Endurance had unleashed havoc on his body, making him experience as if his skin were ablaze and frozen all at once, his bones subjected to relentless squeezing and expansion while his organs had twisted to the point of nearly tearing apart. He remembered how he had violently vomited blood, his vision drowning in crimson as he writhed in excruciating torment as the influx of more energy in his body had nearly killed him. Meanwhile, his robotic counterpart had simply stood there, impotent and serving only to provide an agonizing new viewpoint to his suffering because of their connection. When the pain mercifully allowed Marcus to black out, the robot had made a quick retreat.

He awkwardly pulled off the remainder of his blood-stained clothing, stifling a painful groan as he did so. Afterwards, he shuffled toward the shower and turned it on. ‘I’m sore all over, but also feel different, more sure of my body,’ he mused while taking wobbly steps into the shower. He then pushed the shower chair he had relied on for the past few weeks out of the enclosure, almost as if asserting his independence. A soft hiss escaped his lips as the warm water met his sensitive skin, but gradually, it transformed into a deep sigh as the soothing embrace of the water eased his weary body and cleansed him of all the blood. “God, I needed this.”

A grin tugged at his lips as he remembered the sorry state of the robot the last time he laid eyes on it. ‘Well, I’m certainly in better shape than that scrap heap, or I will be, in time,’ Marcus reflected, recalling the gaping hole in its chassis, the shattered plastic plating, the slight limp in its left leg because of a missing bolt, and the scratches on its optical lens that now partially lessened its vision and made it even harder to see at night. ‘Still, it did get me to where I am now.’ He clenched his fist briefly, then relaxed it, noticing that his hand wasn’t shaking as badly as it did the last few days. ‘I made the right call by increasing my Endurance,’ he thought, his focus shifting back to the HUD as he accessed his status screen.

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Stats

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He lifted his head, letting the warm water rinse his mouth and wash away the metallic taste on his tongue. ‘I’ve got two Stat points in total now. Does that mean my power rating has gone up by one as well?’ Marcus thought as he closed his eyes and rinsed out his hair. ‘When they took my measurement and gave me a power rating of one, it was after ‘ol ‘robot me’ stabbed me with 20 Monster-Glass pieces. Surely this time it had a similar effect.’ He allowed the idea to brew in his mind while the comforting warmth of the water eased his aching body. ‘Same for my total Mana,’ he thought, thinking back to the rather embarrassing math lesson his brother had given him. ‘It’s probably safe to assume that this increase has had the same effect. So, it should be 12 Mana in total now.’

After a thorough rinse of his hair and a scrubbing of his limbs and torso to remove every trace of blood, Marcus turned off the shower. He paused for a moment, appearing to mull something over. Voice laced with doubt, he whispered to himself, “That means the robot should now have 144 minutes’ worth of charge.” He thought the number was correct, but he reminded himself to verify it later when he had completely restored his Mana. Grabbing a towel, he dried himself off, swaying slightly as he did so. ‘Even with more time and less of a need to take risks, I can’t justify sending that tinman out there again. The risk is just too high. I need to repair it first, or at least fix it up a bit. And for that, I need some credits. Perhaps by then, I can go out alongside it? Join forces to take down a monster or two each night and slowly build up my power?’

He spent a few minutes updating his HUD before securing the towel around his waist. Marcus then opened the bathroom door and stepped out, only to find a displeased doctor waiting for him in his room. ‘Here we go,’ Marcus thought, closing the door behind him and mentally preparing for the upcoming confrontation.

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A few minutes had slipped by since Marcus had finished his shower—minutes filled with heated and concerned exchanges, including an awkward episode where he had gotten dressed under the watchful, irritated gaze of the doctor. Erwin, the physical therapist, had joined a few moments later, although the man had mostly kept to himself. Marcus nodded at the doctor, but disappointment was evident in the man’s shaking head. “I’ve made enough progress to want to go home soon. What happened today was just clumsiness,” Marcus politely asserted, though the doctor’s reaction wasn’t promising. Erwin, the physical therapist, leaned against a nearby wall, his expression calm as he observed the unfolding situation, although Marcus thought he caught the man occasionally suppressing a grin.

The doctor attempted once more, maintaining a composed tone. “Again, the recent episodes, the blood loss... my medical advice would be for you to stay with us a little longer so that we can monitor the situation. A few weeks instead of mere days. We can explore other rooms that might better suit your needs, or—”

“I’ve made my decision. I’ve been here for years, comatose or not. I want to go outside, spend time with my friends and family, appreciate some decent food, and carve out a place for myself without a nurse barging in every other minute,” Marcus said, his face lighting up with a grin as he leaned back in his chair. “Like I said earlier, you’ll have me for a few more days, so run all the tests you want. I’m even open to periodically checking in with you in the coming months, if that’s what you want. But I am leaving.”

An awkward silence lingered in the air for a few moments before the doctor slowly rose from his seat. “Very well, Mr. Smit,” he remarked, his voice forcibly calm. “However, there will be some paperwork involved. A substantial amount of paperwork, considering you’re going against hospital policy and against medical advice,” he added, to which Marcus simply nodded. The doctor then shifted his attention to Erwin. “I’ll inform the hospital staff of Mr. Smit’s decision. In the meantime, try to reason with him.” With that, the doctor exited the room, closing the door behind him.

Marcus shifted his gaze toward Erwin, a small smile forming on his lips. “Thanks for agreeing to be my trainer for the next few days. I know that I sort of sprang this on you, and I’m sure you’re on the same page as the doctor and believe that I’m—”

“An idiot?” Erwin chimed in.

“Well, I was going to say—”

“Rash, naïve, impulsive, foolish, stubborn, unwise? I’ve got a list if you would like to hear more?” Erwin quipped, closing the distance to the chair previously occupied by the doctor before taking a seat. “I won’t try to convince you to stay. This is your decision. The doc has stated his medical opinion, and I’m on board with that as a professional. But personally, I get it. You’ve been gone for thirteen years, and the world’s turned on its head since then.” There was a brief pause, a shared moment of contemplation before the man’s tone suddenly changed, his eyes narrowing on Marcus. “But I’d prefer it if you were at least honest with me.”

“What do you mean?" Marcus queried, taken aback by the sudden shift in Erwin’s demeanor.

“You may have pulled the wool over the doctor’s eyes with your spiel about feeling better and wanting to get back to having a normal life. Maybe you’ve even convinced yourself, but your eyes, they’re telling a different story,” Erwin observed, reclining in his chair and crossing his legs, causing Marcus to tense up with uncertainty. “You’ve got the same look you had back in that hospital’s pool when you were pushing yourself to the limit. I’ve seen that look before, during my time in the military, both in fellow soldiers and in myself. It’s the look of someone with a clear-cut objective.”

“Money,” Marcus said suddenly, ignoring the audible disappointment in the other man’s sigh that followed immediately. “My sister has been struggling for the past thirteen years to keep me alive. I can’t even begin to describe her financial situation, but it’s big enough to know that she’ll be burdened by it for years, perhaps a lifetime.” Erwin’s expression softened a bit as Marcus continued. “I don’t care how, but I need to repay her. I need to find work. My body might still need more time to heal completely, but I can at least start with smaller jobs,” Marcus said, bending the truth slightly. He figured that sharing half the truth was better than none, as his true plan was to gain enough power to take on Spheres and earn a significant amount of money to pay off his sister’s debts. “So, there you have it... I need the credits.”

“I see,” Erwin remarked, taking a brief pause as he scratched his chin. “Considering you’ve only given me a few days to work with, we’ll need to maximize our efforts. So, no complaining. I’ll also expect you to follow my advice and the recommended training routine, even when you’re discharged. Agreed?” He asked, flashing a smile when Marcus nodded. “Excellent. Now, get off your ass and follow me.”

“What’s the plan?” Marcus asked, getting to his feet with a bit of wobbling. He refrained from clutching the bed’s edge, forcing him to rely on his own balance as he hoped that the increased Endurance would help him out.

“I’ll show you a safe way to earn some credits, considering you’ve got a Mark,” Erwin said, opening the door and gesturing for Marcus to pass. He couldn’t help but grin as he saw Marcus leave his crutches behind. “Just so we’re clear, I still think you’re an idiot.”

“Preaching to the choir here, mate.”

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Copyright: OsiriumWrites