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"I can't stop the bleeding!" Naomi said again, looking worried.
I rushed back over to Michael and rested his head on my lap as I reached over him and applied pressure to the blood-soaked cloth that sat on his chest.
I can't lie; he didn't look good. He was pale, there were dark spots under his eyes, and his lips seemed a shade of blue. And worst of all, I could literally feel his presence fading.
"What happens if he dies?" Naomi questioned as she continued trying to close the wound, but the blood just kept flowing out.
All species will be unable to give life to new generations, Viraa answered. Those alive already will lose their vitality—their bodies will no longer have the strength to fight off illnesses. A common cold could bring about the extinction of the human race. Something worse could kill every living thing on the planet.
"How are we supposed to save him and prevent that?!" I yelled as I changed the cloth and pressed desperately. His presence was almost gone now. "It can't end like this! We won. Did we save everyone only so that everyone would still be doomed?"
As Naomi and I sat there trying our best to slow the process, at least, we all felt Michael's presence slip away, and the blood finally stopped flowing.
"I can't feel him anymore..." I said, shaken.
"What are we supposed to do now?" Naomi asked, her hands slightly trembling as they were covered in his blood. It was difficult to tell which Naomi was before me. I guess even her cold exterior wasn't as heartless as she made herself seem.
"We can deal with the effects of this later," Tymon spoke. "For now, we should at least send him off properly before getting rid of the body."
"How do you send off a klevonian?" Arne asked, their eyes smoldered shut as they peeled some burned flesh from one of their arms. Oddly enough, Arne hadn't once complained about their eyes' state.
"Viraa?"
A klevonian who dies is traditionally cremated by their loved ones or the party responsible for them. On Cindar, this can be achieved without issue; however, here, on Earth, the only source of powerful heat would likely be Za'Fia's flames.
I looked at Za'Fia expectedly.
"Would you mind doing this for him? Think you've regained enough strength?"
"Yeah," she nodded as we all moved to the basement. When we were in one of the white rooms, I placed Michael on the floor, and Za'Fia moved to kneel beside him.
"He may have been pompous for most of the time I've known him, but in the end, he always wanted to heal others. He even saved most of our lives today," she said as she hovered her hand over his body and set it ablaze.
I was about to continue the train of speaking something valued about him, but the flames immediately fizzled out just as fast as they were formed. There was now a noticeable, unknown protective membrane that had formed around Michael's skin.
"Strange. His body doesn't seem to want to be destroyed," Damien commented as Arne tapped the membrane. I kinda wondered how Arne knew the body was there.
"Maybe I should try a different way?" Za'Fia said as she placed her good hand on his chest and began to heat his body from within. It seemed to work at first, but then the effects only seemed to only go as far as making steam come from inside him. Nothing else started to melt or burn.
Then, as we all watched, a silvery-red substance began to ooze from his ears, eyes, and nose.
Enhancing my vision, I could see tiny, half-melted, metallic pieces of metal within the substance.
"It's the nanites!" I exclaimed, surprising everyone. "They're melting from the heat!"
Suddenly, I could feel Michael's presence spark again. It was faint, but it was there. I smiled as I felt it grow stronger as his wounds began to close rapidly. Then, he was still for what seemed like an eternity, but we all could feel him. He was alive!
"How is this possible?" Tymon asked incredulously. "Can he resurrect, too?"
Not quite, Viraa answered just as Michael's body inhaled deeply and his eyes fluttered open.
I rushed over to hug Michael as he sat up.
"Oh my God! We thought you were dead!" I said as he sat up in a dazed state.
"You were dead," Tymon corrected as he held out a hand to help Michael to his feet.
It appears once your life was threatened, the Eternal Life cintracy suspended your body until the nanites could be forced out—quite the resilient power.
"Yes, I'm...certainly grateful for it," Michael responded, still grasping the situation.
"I guess we're both pretty hard to kill," Tymon said jokingly. "At least the lingering death that was around you is gone."
"How's it feel to be immortal again?" Damien asked him.
"I'm certainly more appreciative of it now," Michael responded, taking in everyone's conditions. He blinked several times as everyone finally settled in. "I hadn't expected everyone to end up in such a state....My energy's slowly replenishing, but I still lack what's necessary to heal you all. I'll need maybe an hour."
I saw him glancing at Za'Fia's crushed arm. It was discolored and grotesque. He could probably tell that she'd already lost all nerves within that arm—that it was practically dead already. Even if he had the energy, even he wouldn't have been able to repair it.
Za'Fia noticed us looking and sighed with apprehension. She gritted her teeth and used her left hand to sever the arm up to where the damage stopped. As the arm fell to the floor, she grimaced in pain; her face beaded with sweat as she cauterized the bleeding with her fire.
"I'm sorry," Michael said, disappointed. He looked at Arne. "And I'll heal your eyes once I've regained enough energy."
"Ahm," Arne responded with a nod. "Don't feel responsible. Some of us chose to push forward without your support."
"I suppose so," he responded as he looked at Tymon's missing hand and said, "I could try healing that too."
Tymon shook his head.
"Just like Za'Fia's injury, it's too late. The most you could do is staunch the bleeding. Besides, cintracies don't work on me, remember?"
"Luckily, I have my own way of healing," he continued as he picked up Junichiro's sword and walked over to Arne. "Mind doing me a favor? Consider it payback for our skirmish the other day."
"You want me to kill you?" Arne questioned as they grabbed the blade from him.
"Resurrecting is the only way I can regenerate major wounds," Tymon replied.
"Okay, but I don't consider this payback. Someday, I'll get it without you needing to let me," Arne retorted confidently.
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