10,000 Years Too Late

The pendant twisted between Riley's massive fingers as she discovered an inscription on its reverse. Though written in flowing, foreign script, the words translated themselves before her eyes through the Axis interface: "Let all who is ill find reprieve."

A civilization built around sickness, she mused, continuing to manipulate the pendant.

"Near death makes believers of us all," the aide commented, noticing her interest in the religious symbol. As Riley looked at her, a screen materialized beside the woman's figure, displaying her name, age, and birthplace. It also warned against addressing medical staff as 'doctor' or 'nurse'—titles reserved for nobility in this realm. Here, they were known as healers, a distinction that carried its own prestige.

"Where are my friends?" Riley asked, catching herself before saying 'doctor.'

The healer gave her a quizzical look.

"The people who were found with me," she clarified.

"Ah," the healer nodded. "They're receiving treatment in another room. One is being tended to at home." Before Riley could ask why they'd been separated, a notice flickered at the edge of her vision, explaining that her cellular growth patterns required isolation from the others.

The meaning was clear enough—she'd been quarantined.

The healer guided her to a different room, more spacious and vibrant than her previous ward. Though coughing still echoed through the space, there was a vitality here that had been absent before.

Her friends were already awake, huddled in a conspiratorial circle at the room's edge, speaking with a familiarity that drew puzzled glances from the healer. Riley might not have recognized them in their new forms if not for the Axis system's helpful markers—blue points hovering above their heads identifying them as allies.

One of them—Kayode, though here he was known as Listik—jumped up abruptly, drawing the attention of the entire group.

"Riley, is that you?" he called out, but quickly fell silent when nearby patients turned to stare at his outburst.

Since awakening in this world and receiving the Axis system's message, the group had progressed from disbelief to denial to finally accepting their reality: they were part of some interdimensional deployment program. Their first priority became maintaining their cover, especially since their borrowed bodies had no prior connection to each other.

So when Kayode—now Listik—addressed Riley, he carefully crafted his words: "Ah, you must be the Zelion we heard about. Another survivor of the great battle. We were just discussing you. Good to see you in such fine spirits."

Riley caught his meaning and played along, though perhaps too enthusiastically: "Ah... yes... likewise. I too was curious about my fellow survivors. What extraordinary fortune that we all made it through such an ordeal. Here, here!"

"You're overdoing it," muttered the person who had once been Shen.

"You've all become something of a phenomenon," the healer remarked as he prepared to leave. "Though no one knows yet that you're the survivors, when they do, they'll come seeking blessings. I'd envy you, but that would be a lie. So in pity, I'll leave you to become acquainted." He departed with his trailing entourage of assistants.

Riley exhaled deeply once they were alone. Looking down—she now stood at least two feet taller than her companions—she noticed two faces missing from their group. A quick check of her Axis system confirmed Dana and Hayazaki's absence. She stooped to their level to ask Kayode about their whereabouts.

"Where were we?" Kayode countered. "Why is your skin red? And why are you so freaking tall?" His eyes kept darting across her frame as if she were some carnival attraction.

"I could ask you the same questions. You all look so ashen and frail. But unlike you, I actually know why," Riley shot back.

"Oh, we know. Or at least I do," Shen interjected. "I keep telling them to check their Axis terminals, but they won't listen."

"You call it Axis terminal too?" Riley exclaimed. "That's exactly what I've been calling it!"

"Alright, stop flirting," Surya rolled his eyes. "The system told us all to call it that. The real problem is we're supposed to defeat something called the Underkwin—some kind of ghost..."

"A collection of spectrals," Shen corrected.

"...Right," Surya conceded. "A collection of spectrals. But here's the real problem: where are Dana and Hayazaki? This place seems dangerous as hell—they shouldn't be out there alone."

"The healer told me Dana's here-parents—the parents of the body she inhabits—collected her," Riley explained. "They're Nurses, which apparently marks them as nobility in this world. She's receiving treatment at their home, so she should be safe. Hayazaki, though... that's concerning."

"We need to start asking around," Kayode said. "First priority is getting out of this hospital, finding Hayazaki, then having a proper meeting about what we're dealing with here."

They all nodded in agreement.

Alexander—now known as Srevan—had been unusually quiet during the exchange. His borrowed body seemed frailer than the others, marked with strange lesions that pulsed faintly under his skin. "There's something else we need to discuss," he said softly. "The way people look at us. Not just the healers—the other patients too. Like we're either blessed or cursed. Maybe both."

Shen nodded, pulling up information on his Axis terminal. "Eight survivors from a raid that killed thousands. In a world where survival itself seems rare. We're going to draw attention whether we want to or not."

"Then we use it," Angela said suddenly. She'd been so still and quiet that some of them had almost forgotten she was there. "Being survivors gives us access. Resources. Information."

"And enemies," Kayode added grimly. "People will want to know how we survived. What makes us special."

A wet cough from a nearby bed punctuated his words. All around them, the hospital's rhythms continued—the shuffle of healers, the groan of the sick, the constant underlying tension of a place where death was both enemy and resource.

"We need to learn everything we can," Riley said, her new voice deeper and more resonant than she expected. "About these bodies we're wearing, about this world, about what we're really up against. And we need to do it fast."

Shen was already scanning through more information on his terminal. "The Undakwin isn't our only problem. This world... everything here is connected to sickness and death. The politics, the religion, the economy—it's all built around disease and its management."

"Or its profit," Surya muttered, glancing at a healer passing by their room.

"Focus," Kayode interrupted. "One thing at a time. First, we find Hayazaki. Then we figure out how to contact Dana. After that—"

A commotion in the hallway cut him off. Raised voices, the sound of running feet. Something was happening.

They exchanged glances, each reading the same question in the others' eyes: had it started already? Was their mission beginning before they were ready?

The commotion grew louder. Through their room's window, they could see healers rushing past, their white uniforms blurring into streaks of motion. A sharp cry pierced the general chaos—something between a scream and a sob.

"Something's happening near the east wing," Alexander said, having positioned himself to see down the corridor. "They're setting up quarantine barriers."

Shen's fingers moved across his Axis terminal with growing confidence. "There's a pattern to how they're moving. Not random panic—this is practiced. They've done this before."

"Should we..." Riley started, but Angela cut her off with a sharp gesture.

"Listen," she said softly.

Beyond the immediate sounds of the hospital's crisis response, they could hear it: a deep, wet coughing that seemed to resonate through the walls themselves. Not the regular coughing of the sick—this was something different. Something worse.

Surya moved to the door, peering through its small window. "They're sealing off entire sections. Whatever this is, they're taking it seriously."

"More importantly," Kayode added, "they're distracted. If we're going to move, now might be our chance."

"Move where?" Alexander asked. "We don't even know where Hayazaki is, or how to reach Dana."

Riley stood, her Zelion frame casting a long shadow across the room. "Then we split up. We cover more ground that way."

"Bad idea," Shen countered, still focused on his terminal. "We don't know enough about this place, these bodies, or what we're really dealing with. Splitting up now would be—"

Another cry from the hallway, closer this time. Through the window, they could see someone being restrained—a patient thrashing against the healers' grip, their skin marked with spreading black patterns that seemed to move under their flesh.

"The Ashblight," one of the healers shouted. "Full containment protocols! Now!"

The group exchanged glances. Their borrowed bodies carried memories of that word—Ashblight—and none of them were good.

"Time to choose," Kayode said grimly. "We either move now, or we might not get another chance for a while."

"We go together," Riley said firmly, her new Zelion voice carrying unexpected authority. "But smart. Shen, you've been studying the layout through your terminal?"

Shen nodded, expanding his display so they could all see it. "The hospital works in sections. East wing is being sealed for the Ashblight outbreak. West wing is where they process new arrivals. South wing..." he paused, frowning at the data. "South wing is interesting. High security, but minimal medical equipment. More like a research facility."

"That's where they'd keep someone they want to study," Alexander offered. "Someone who survived something they shouldn't have."

"Hayazaki," Kayode concluded. "I don't know why, but my instincts tell me that the dude was taken, separated from us. Hell they separated Riley from us, I think they did the same thing to him."

Shen looked at Kayode, as hesitant as he was to trust his gut instincts, something told him that he was correct. 

Surya, still watching through the door's window, held up a hand for quiet. The chaos outside was shifting, becoming more organized. "They're moving in patterns now. Guard rotations, probably. We've got maybe ten minutes before they remember we exist."

"Then we use those ten minutes," Riley decided. She looked down at her massive red hands, still strange but starting to feel more natural. "I'll take point. In this body, I'm less likely to be questioned. The rest of you, stay close. Look like you belong."

"And if we're stopped?" Alexander asked.

Angela, who had been so quiet they'd almost forgotten her presence, spoke up. "We're survivors. They expect us to be confused, to wander. Use that."

Shen closed his terminal display. "South wing is three floors down. We'll need to—"

A sound cut him off—a deep, resonating toll that seemed to come from everywhere at once. The hospital's rhythms changed instantly. The chaos in the halls took on new urgency.

"What is that?" Kayode asked, but their borrowed bodies knew. Their muscles tensed with inherited memory.

"Purification bells," Alexander whispered as he searched through his terminal for whatever that meant. "They're calling for a Cleansing."