Tanya awoke in her tattoo chair. She forced her eyes open. They flickered but closed again against her will. Her joints were filled with a dull, aching stiffness. It felt like she'd been wrung out and left in the sun for days. She licked her lips, running her tongue over the chapped skin as she fought her drooping eyes again and again.

For a long moment, she just stared at the wooden panels of her parlour's ceiling. It took her a while to realise she wasn't at her family home and even longer to remember she hadn't lived there in years.

This is me parlour…yeah. It's The Wyrm and Needle.

Tanya twisted her head with a groan, lifting herself onto her elbows. It hurt, but she expected it to be worse. The worst pain had settled into a dull throb, like the aftermath of a fever. Her shop wasn't how she had left it. The rest of the boards had been hammered in, copying her pattern of gaps to attack the monsters through. A few tealight candles were dotted around the room, fighting against the gloom of so much light being taken by the boards. She lifted herself further up. A beam of light hit her face from one of the battlement gaps to the outside world.

So it's day then. How long was I out?

25 hours 45 minutes.

Tanya jumped, a hiss escaping her mouth.

Oh yeah, you exist.

She snorted. It sent waves of pain through one side of her ribs.

Ouch. Don't laugh— got it.

She rolled onto one side. Her body resisted the motion, sluggish and uncooperative, like moving through water. Even the simple shift sent an odd pressure through her ribs, her skin prickling with the effort. She paused for a deep breath, leaning on one side against her forearm. It reminded her of how her dad used to lie on the rug when she was playing as a kid. The gleaming light through gaps in the curtains was surprisingly like the battlements.

Her eyes landed on her forearm. She stared down at the little hand and ran a finger across it. It looked just like a normal tattoo back on her skin.

She opened her interface, and the letters swirled before her. She winced and groaned like she was hungover.

Attributes

Strength: 5/13

Dexterity: 9/22

Vitality: 1/17

Concentration: 5/11

Will: 6/19

So me Vitality isn't negative anymore, but nothing else changed?

She stared at the Attributes for a long time, trying to piece together what they meant through her fuzzy head. Her Concentration ticked up to 6/11.

So they're moving now then. Good.

Tanya rolled over, using the momentum to pull herself up. The empty neon sign was lit by a candle beneath it—just transparent tubes without electricity.

Tanya heard a female voice through the door, in the little kitchen out the back of the shop.

Ishita?

"There's too many of us. Even with rationing, this food will only last a few days."

"You can manage longer without than you expect," a lower voice replied. Tanya realised it was Mrs Eceer.

"Not without water!" Ishita said.

"The pots are all set up outside. Once it rains, we will be okay." Mrs Eceer's voice was softer, calmer. "Shhh," she added.

"And if it doesn't?" Ishita shout-whispered.

"Darling," Mrs Eceer said. Tanya could imagine her raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms. "This is England."

Tanya staggered over to the door, listening to the conversation. Her knees buckled every few steps, and she steadied herself on the counter on the way. She grasped the door handle and turned, leaning her head around as she opened it slowly. It felt weird interrupting, but she felt they should know she was awake.

"Tanya!" Ishita cried. She ran over to Tanya and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her close. Their embrace was lopsided—Ishita's bandaged, mangled hand barely able to hold on. The stiff set of her shoulders betrayed the pain woven into every movement. Fresh scars and oozing bandages covered her trembling form. The worst part was her skin. Where she once had a warm brown complexion, she now had a greyish tinge all over, like she'd died that day and come back to life.

Tanya stood there for a second, her arms by her side. Then she computed what was going on and hugged her back.

"It's good to have you back," Mrs Eceer said awkwardly. She looked neater, with freshly braided hair. The blood was still visible across her peacock headband, but it was a stain rather than sodden with it. The monster's blood was the worst, dark stains of black streaming down Mrs Eceers dress even after scrubbing. She grimaced at all of the black blood on herself, suddenly feeling the weight of it on her. She itched to get it off—to be clean and normal—for all the injuries to go away and Ishita's skin to be unscarred and brown again.

Ishita pulled away. The scars were worse up close. The most noticeable was a gash along her neck. Her larynx bobbed up and down beneath it, moving the scarred skin with difficulty. The masses of bandages and scraps were rough against Tanya's arm as Ishita held it against her shoulder. There were so many layers that it looked more like a giant sphere than a hand. Tanya noticed the dotted pattern of one of her tea towels and a section of a Hello Kitty t-shirt she'd had in the cupboard in a donation box for far too long. She'd obviously let them use it, but it still felt strange, like a piece of her life had been borrowed without her knowing. Like waking up to find someone had cleaned her house but put everything in the wrong place. Necessary, helpful even—but unsettling all the same.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

25 hours eh? In the apocalypse, 25 hours can be a lifetime ago.

"I see you found my flat," Tanya said. She plastered a smile, trying to turn it into a joke, but it sounded strained.

"Sorry I—" Ishita lifted her hands, but the movement faltered. The bandaged hand wobbled in the air, too heavy to hold up for long.

"We did what we had to do." Mrs Eceer's voice was steady, but there was something weighted in the way she said it. She paused. "But I would have rather asked you if we could have."

Tanya shook her head. "No, no. I—It's all good. Anything you used, you used to live." She swallowed. The voice echoed in her head.

Live.

"Fahad? Your hand? Assistant? I—" She raked a hand through her hair, only for her fingers to snag painfully in the knots. She winced, tugging them free, feeling more and more frazzled by the second.

"Sit," Mrs Eceer said, her tone leaving no room for argument. She stepped forward, pulling a stool behind her with a quiet scrape against the floor.

Tanya hesitated, then let herself perch on it.

Mrs Eceer used her uninjured hand, but the other was by her side, not clutched to her chest or in a sling. There were thinner layers of bandages now, and she could see the gaps between them where her skin was a deep purple from the bruising.

Tanya took a deep breath. "What happened after the fight?"

Ishita turned away, her arms crossed over her chest. Mrs Eceer spoke instead, sitting on a stool beside her.

"We carried you inside. Fahad stayed inside. He's upstairs and fine; he heals quicker than all of us," She started. "There were more of those…things, but they were further down the street, so we just ran with you."

Tanya's lips parted. She struggled to wrap her head around the world continuing without her.

Mrs Eceer wrinkled her nose. "Your hand-assistant-thing disappeared at some point in the fighting, we think. Neither of us saw it later on. We're guessing you didn't have the Vitality to keep it out anymore."

Tanya stared down at her wrist. She checked her Vitality; still 1/17. She knew Assistant was probably fine, but she wouldn't relax until she could check.

Flashes of the battle came back to her. The way her body had moved on its own, sharper, faster than she should have been able to manage. The weight of the sword, the way it felt more like a part of her than something she wielded. Vision blurred, instincts taking over with an eerie sensation. The final strike—clean, perfect—driven straight through the last monster's skull. It had a strange far away feeling, like a night on the town.

Hold up. I wasn't wearing a skirt.

She looked down at her legs. It was long and floral with an elastic waist. She'd gotten it from a charity shop a while back and didn't wear it much. "The skirt?" she asked.

Mrs Eceer shook her shoulders like a bird shaking its feathers. Her cheeks were flushed. "We—I wanted to preserve your dignity." She sniffed.

This skirt felt like a very Mrs Eceer choice now she thought about it. Ishita smiled and shrugged a shoulder towards Tanya behind Mrs Eceer.

"Heh, well, thanks." Tanya hiked it up to her waist and stared at the sword on her hip. She ignored Mrs Eceer's gasp. It had the hazy, uneven texture of healing ink, parts of it scabbed over in raised, flaking patches while others looked almost too smooth, like fresh skin stretched over something still settling. The spectral lines of the sword seemed even more ghostly now, some edges sharp while others blurred where the scabs hadn't fully peeled. The tatters of fabric, once crisp in its fading design, now had parts that looked almost smudged, like the ink was still deciding where it wanted to stay.

She had the same unreal feeling she always got waking up with a new tattoo. They always looked foreign for a few days. This time, it was even stronger, partly because she'd barely had time to think about it and partly because she knew it could be summoned out of her skin into the real world. She still barely believed it.

"Ishita helped you, helped both of us. She's got a healing Class. Well, it's more than that." Mrs Eceer looked away. Her voice was slow and measured. It took Tanya a moment to realise it wasn't for her benefit, it was for Ishita's. She looked stricken at it being mentioned, failing to hide it behind a forced smile.

The words escaped Tanya's lips before she could reconsider them. "Holy fuck. Martyr…"

She opened her interface, skimming to the new Interface she'd been given. She saw her new level-ups on the way—the sword, the achievement, the Ability Crossroad choices she had yet to make, and more notifications she'd not even read yet. She was curious to delve into the new things she'd gotten, but seeing Ishita's new class was far more interesting. She began by opening every Ability and Achievement in full, wanting to absorb this all at once.

* * *

Information

Name: Ishita Priya Sharma

Number: 146,567,398

Class: Martyr

Level: 1

Attributes

Strength: 7/9

Dexterity: 12/16

Vitality: 4/7

Concentration: 13/18

Will: 6/8

Abilities

Pain Transference

Level: 3

You can absorb the pain of others to heal their wounds at the cost of your own life force. The more pain you transfer, the greater the toll on yourself, but there is no other healing maximum.

Sacrificial Rebirth

Level: 1

Upon death, you may choose to return to life, but at a cost. You revive with your Attributes all at full, but one Attribute of your choice is reduced and must be earned again. The toll increases with each resurrection.

Achievements

Worthy

You were deemed worthy of The System's care. You have been given a class and access to The Interface.

A Mother's Love

You gave everything for the one you loved.

You gain a 200% effectiveness in using your powers to help Number 57,987,420 (Fahad Sharma) while he is a child* under your protection.

*A child has been classified as under 18 years of age for your species, based on the rules outlined in Section 6472, "Approved Power Increases for Minors," Subsection 56836352, "Minor Classification per Species."

* * *

No Special Circumstances Achievement. This is a normal Class.

Tanya had never been more fascinated to find a core class than a unique one in any system before. She could see the lack of personality in the Ability names and doubted that Ishita had any Abilities here beyond standard starting ones for Martyr.

"She's been healing me by going through my pain," Tanya said, in awe. Her heart swelled with disbelief and gratitude, the weight of it all pressing down on her chest as she realised what Ishita must have gone through to get her Attributes back to positive.

"In manageable amounts," Ishita said.

Tanya still remembered the way the nausea ripped through her stomach before she passed out, the crushing pressure in her head, and the way her vision weakened more and more.

"You didn't have to," Tanya said.

"I did," Ishita replied.

Ishita attempted to pull a lid off a tin of beans with one hand. Unease curled in Tanya's gut. She could still picture the glimpse she got of Ishita's hand—twisted and nearly unrecognizable, the mangled remains barely holding together as if the very shape of it had been shattered in some violent way.

She healed me, but she can't heal herself…

She recognised the injuries in her memory now in retrospect. It was shredded. She guessed Ishita's arm had been deep down a monster's throat. There were so many layers of teeth... If she hadn't gotten Assistant out of the mouth when she had, it would have had the same fate. She shivered from the top of her spine down to the bottom vertebrae by vertebrae.

What would an injury like that to me tattoo do to me?

"And your hand?" Tanya asked Ishita, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

"We were meaning to talk to you about that." Ishita ventured. She opened and closed her mouth, staring down at the countertop.

Tanya looked between her and Mrs Eceer.

"What?" Tanya prompted.

Mrs Eceer sighed, turning to Tanya. "She needs you to cut it off."

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