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Chapter 15 - The Wayward Trainee: Part 5

[Authors note: I have been using a program like Docs to help me write, and it kept breaking my sentences into a more formal way of writing. I personally like how this chapter is written more than any of my previous ones. I think I need more "fluffy" descriptive words because there should be a flow embedded within a story. If anyone is reading this, let me know how the chapter feels, I can write more meticulously like before, but it wasn't FEELING right.]

Ermis, Sandy, and Amanda walked out of the room. It wasn't the most successful first meeting, but it would have to do.

Ermis felt the urge to check his phone, but he knew it was dead, so he asked his mother, "Mom, what time is it? I feel wide awake, but I know I'm going to have to be up early."

She pulled out her device and looked at the clock, "It is almost 1:00 am, sweetie. We probably should have delayed you coming here, but your dad was insistent on getting you registered in his borough before you could be forcibly transferred."

Ermis knew his Power was strong and only going to grow in capability. Pretty soon there'll be people demanding his assistance in all matters healing-related.

Ermis felt odd...like he wanted to punch Adam for trying to lay his hands on...Ermis????

He realized the problem and switched his Power, 'Green.'

Ol' Reliable came back and sat daintily on his shoulders. He supposed whatever Amara did had begun to wear off over time.

Sandy took note of the color change, "How are you feeling? Any drain?"

Ermis shook his head, "The only time I felt it was when I healed Amanda. Other than that, everything has been light work."

Sandy sighed, "Baby, you need to find some way to push yourself."

He smiled, "Well, is there anyone that needs Healing?"

Sandy frowned slightly, "Baby, after that, I am not sure it is a good idea."

Ermis nodded, "What if I just do a "normal" amount of healing, like your back? Would that be ok?"

Sandy frowned deeper and turned to the Titan.

Amanda nodded, so she pulled out her phone to call the Director, "Sweetie, Ermis says he isn't tired yet. He has a big day tomorrow, training then patrol, so I was thinking he could do some A-class healing around the building?" She phrased it as a question like she was unsure of the outcome.

The other side remained silent for a moment.

They all waited near an elevator when they heard, "I am on my way." Then the phone hung up.

Ermis was nervous, but all he had to do was "normal" advanced healing, not genetic surgery. Easy as cake, right?

They stood still, waiting on the elevator that seemed like it was taking forever, when it opened, "Dad?" Ermis noticed the lone figure immediately.

His father smiled and hugged him, "Hey, sport. You took a long nap, so it makes sense. Your days and nights are going to be all mixed up again."

He sighed, "But there are some people that we can exploit." He smiled, "I mean, help. Follow me."

He strutted off into the elevator that seemed to be waiting for him.

Amanda scoffed as she realized he was getting operational support for an elevator hi-jacking to look cool in front of his son. Though, as she stepped on, she had to respect the level of commitment.

They rode the elevator up to the 15th floor, a residential level designated for C-class Capes and above. The opulent surroundings made it evident that the government ensured the well-being of its own.

As they walked along the plush carpeting, Ermis couldn't help but notice the presence of suit-clad men serving as bodyguards. Before he could voice his question, his father began an explanation, "These are officers from the Behavioral Overwatch Brigade. They are responsible for offering support and supervision to Capes whose mental health is suspected to be compromised."

Continuing, his father clarified, "And no, it's not the kind of ailment even you could mend. At worst, it calls for a Memory Removal Operation."

As they descended the hallway, Jorge nodded in acknowledgment to each suited officer they encountered, their inclination to salute him was subdued because of their current duties.

Jorge eventually came to a halt in front of room #1532. Similar to the others, a man stood outside. He stepped aside as the Director approached, but Jorge addressed him, "Could you please go inside and inform Mr. Fitzpatrick that I have a proposition to discuss?"

The BOB nodded and quickly slipped inside the room. The conversation within quickly escalated into raised voices, and then a hush fell over the space, punctuated by footsteps pounding toward the door.

The door swung open, revealing an older gentleman who peered out at Jorge. "What the hell do you want?" He demanded.

Jorge responded with a mere smile, "I have a proposition..." He was interrupted abruptly, "Good Lord, you sure love for the sound of your own voice! JUST TELL ME! MY GRANDDAUGHTER IS IN HERE FIGHTING FOR HER LIFE!"

Jorge's expression froze, and he responded, "I'd like to offer my services in exchange for certain favors."

Mr. Fitzpatrick's temper flared, "LIKE I'D MAKE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL AGAIN! YOU WRETCHED SCOUNDREL, WHY WOULD—" Jorge interjected, "I can save your granddaughter's life."

The elderly man halted in his tracks, his face reflecting astonishment and disbelief.

He eyed Jorge, his voice lacking the conviction it once possessed, "You. You really are the Devil, ain'tcha, boy?" The man seemed to age 20 years in a matter of seconds, as he decided the fate of his only heir.

"Do it." He defeatedly stepped aside as they moved into the room.

In the hospital room, a young woman of Ermis' age lay in a hospital bed surrounded by pictures of family and burning incense.

The extent of her affliction was evident at a glance—half of her skull seemed to have been crushed and subsequently mended using some Power-based method.

Jorge maneuvered around his son and explained, "Son, this is unlike anything you've encountered before. This was a deliberate act." Ermis momentarily froze, then scrutinized the wound. Inconsistencies were apparent, suggesting that the execution of the Power was unusually flawed. He inquired, "But how? How could someone do this?"

Jorge exhaled sorrowfully, "Not a person, a Flesh Warper. These are monsters that can inhabit other living beings, and this particular one was sadistic. It toyed with her mind, learning about human anatomy an-" Jorge's explanation was cut short as Mr. Fitzpatrick pushed forward, wishing to be present.

As the room grew more crowded with people, Ermis felt compelled to act. He decided to begin with lower levels of Power, attempting a cautious approach.

Placing his hand on her forehead, he sensed the intense fever that consumed her. If he didn't intervene, she might only last another week.

His Power accepted the challenge, responding with an intent to rescue the young woman.

A soft, verdant light emanated from his palm, now exhibiting better control. It didn't take the cocoon-like form as before; instead, it navigated through the intricacies of the Quantum Realm. In every person, there existed versions of themselves both injured and uninjured. Ermis needed to access the body's memory and restore its state, similar to his experience with Amanda.

Ermis found himself with questions, wondering about the unexpected transformation in his Power, 'Why this new requirement of selecting a moment?' Then his thoughts took shape as he voiced his insight, "She was braindead, wasn't she."

Ermis didn't need to know that Mr. Fitzpatrick nodded fervently behind him. The uniqueness of this situation dawned on him—his Power had automatically chosen Amanda's last undamaged moment; however, this woman's circumstances involved a week of minimal brain activity.

Ermis delved deeper into his Power, seeking any instance of her body being whole. It was as if a haze enshrouded the older versions, hinting at their dissolution into the river of time.

In the midst of his search, a flicker materialized—a transition from Green to Blue and then Indigo before snapping back to Green. His Power was sending a him message.

The realization dawned upon him. He ONLY needed to locate her consciousness, to pinpoint her final conscious moment.

The color Indigo briefly shared a moment with Green, his Cape swirling on his back in indecision.

Then he located her.

The woman currently experiencing torture, was abruptly awakened in a hospital bed, free from pain, with a young man's hand on her forehead.

The room was pierced by her shrill, ear-splitting scream of life, "AHHHHHH!"