Outside of the Void and the Memory Injector, Makhos stared down at Zemin's body.
The convulsions lasted only several seconds. Makhos had released the Esquire from his stabilizing telekinetic hold an entire minute earlier, but nothing about the boy's state changed.
The Memory Injector was blinking at the angel with alarmingly red signal lights, but the vitals monitor showed the boy was alive and stable, although unconscious.
There must've been a malfunction in the experimental machine. With a sigh, Makhos pulled out a phone out of his robe and called the Engineer tasked with the maintenance of the Memory Injector.
It would take a few hours for him to arrive from the city. In the meantime, Makhos examined Zemin again.
In the previous tests, the subjects showed signs of waking up almost immediately after the procedure. But they all ended up with their memories completely wiped out, hopelessly distorted, or with their brains turned into mush.
"The Injector's state aside, this is worrisome, but promising…" Makhos muttered.
He turned to the other monitors, trying to understand what had happened. Makhos's expertise was just enough to understand that the Memory Injector broke after it completed the injection, not before.
Well, that wasn't Makhos's problem, then. The Engineer responsible will have all the opportunities to deal with it and give his report.
Abandoning caution, the angel opened the lid of the capsule and removed the electrodes. Zemin didn't wake up during the process, and even when Makhos's telekinesis lifted him in the air.
The hospital staff was extremely surprised to see the angel bringing in a patient personally. Despite that, they worked quickly and efficiently as they settled Zemin into a bed and examined his state.
He still wouldn't wake up. Even his soul felt away.
"We don't know what's wrong with him, Master Makhos," the Healer said, bowing. "We might try to wake him up with a stimulator injection, but—"
"No need. Just monitor his state and keep him alive until he wakes on his own."
Or if. Which would be a pity—Zemin was a tool that sharpened itself with barely any help. At worst, he was too curious for his own good, but this was a minor sin—so far, at least. Makhos didn't have enough agents within the 4th Exemplar Division to throw them away that easily, especially with how short-lived they were by nature.
"Inquisitor Makhos! Is that… Zemin? What happened to him?"
Makhos turned his head towards the speaker. Citri Radev, an Esquire from Zemin's team. She was dressed in a hospital garb and was holding onto a wall to stand up, and worry was oozing out of her in distasteful peppery streams.
"He merely needs to rest, Citri," Makhos replied with a centuries-practiced smile.
Citri's emotions brightened, but not entirely. She watched as Zemin was put into a free bed, and more monitors were attached to his body. When the Healers finally left him alone, she kneeled on the floor next to him.
The energy of her emotions mixed with the rest of the hospital's emotional stench.
Makhos decided not to spend any more time in this place. He gave Citri a nod of goodbye, threw one last look at the gathered Healers, and left.
But he wasn't returning to his other duties just yet. There was one other thing…
'Maybe there's something I can do to increase the chances of Zemin's awakening. More familiar auras, possibly?..'
***
"And… For how long has he been like that already?" Danis asked, eying Zemin carefully.
The young Esquire was lying on the hospital bed, encircled by wires of the vitals monitor and covered to his chest with a thin blanket. Haggardness of long recovery didn't diminish the beauty of his features yet. Zemin looked only slightly pale, and as fresh as if he was peacefully asleep, despite his entire team gathered around him… Or not so peacefully.
His brow twitched. For a moment, hope surged within Citri, but when no further movement followed, fell off a cliff and died.
She sighed, reaching out for Zemin's cheek, only to retract her hand a moment later. This wasn't the place or time for things like these.
"Since he was brought here… Three hours ago," Citri said. "He twitches occasionally, but doesn't wake up from noises or anything."
"Anything?" Narcisa asked, raising her eyebrows. "I wonder what exactly you have tested already with the way you sigh now."
"Hey! What are you trying to say?! I meant only this ugly thing the Healers installed," Citri pointed at the IV tube that dripped nutrients and water into Zemin's veins.
Danis snorted. Jagger sighed and shook his head.
"I can't believe how this turned out… But, Adia, tell me—are you blaming yourself?"
The woman pressed her lips together. Like Citri, she sat on the floor next to Zemin's bed, but from the other side. She took a deep breath before speaking.
"Who else? He put his neck into… whatever put him into this state… for me. If he doesn't wake up soon—who can honestly tell me that his chances will be any good?"
Narcisa put a hand on Adia's shoulder. The medic's scarred face softened slightly.
"Only liars. But before two days pass, his chances are still high. Save the tears for after that mark, got it?"
Jagger chuckled mirthlessly. "That boy really got all of us emotional. Despite his inexperience, he really got the spirit. So we will help him as much as we can—for a start, as Master Makhos said, we can arrange shifts so that someone familiar is always next to him. But don't forget, we must keep training, too. Now is not the time for a rest."
"He knew me the longest, so I should spend the most time with him," Adia said immediately.
Danis stepped away from the hospital bed.
"I think the girls alone should be enough for the kid. Especially since Citri is still supposed to be on bed rest! I will just take space. Bye!"