"What?" Tanya said. She hadn't processed the words well enough to be freaked out.

Ishita's voice shook slightly. "It's not salvageable. Maybe a miracle could fix it in a hospital with surgery, but… I don't think so. It's already getting worse." She looked around whilst talking as if Fahad would overhear at any moment.

Tanya blinked. Once. Twice.

She wasn't sure she'd heard them right. 'Cut it off?' What the hell did that even mean?

Her stomach turned, twisting into something tight and unyielding. She looked at Ishita properly now—the way her fingers trembled where they clutched the edge of the counter, the way her eyes flickered anywhere but at Tanya. Mrs Eceer stood still, arms crossed, her expression grim.

Tanya swallowed.

"You mean—" she started, then cut herself off. Saying it out loud might make it real.

Ishita's larynx bobbed as she nodded.

Tanya's mind raced.

Not salvageable. Already gettin' worse.

She stared at the bandages. It was so covered, it was hard to reason that there was something bad under there. It was on the end of her arm where a hand should be; surely whatever it was could be fixed?

"No," Tanya said, her voice sharp. "No. That's insane."

"Tanya—"

"You want me to cut—" Her breath hitched. "—your arm off?"

Neither of them answered.

Tanya's pulse thudded against her temples. "And what, exactly, do you expect me to do? Just—just take a knife and start hacking?" Her voice wavered at the edges, high and horrified.

Mrs Eceer exhaled through her nose. "It's not a choice anymore. You know that."

Tanya's vision swam for a second. She tried to think. She tried to imagine doing it, actually doing it—holding something sharp, pressing down, breaking skin, muscle, bone—

Her stomach lurched.

"That's not—" Tanya let out a hollow laugh. "I'm not a doctor! I don't know how to do that—I don't even know where to start!"

"We don't need a doctor—" Mrs Eceer started.

"I can't," Tanya whispered. "Find someone with magic—surely there has to be someone who can fix muscles and skin or whatever. We just need to find the right Class."

Ishita bit her lip. "If we go outside, we would only get injured worse and…"

Tanya gripped the counter like it was the only thing keeping her tethered. Her breath was short.

I can't.

"Tanya," Mrs Eceer interjected. She reached over, turning Tanya's wrist to face upwards. Tanya noticed the slight sag in Mrs Eceer's skin, the delicate web of veins visible beneath her wrist. They had never really touched before—aside from the times Tanya had carried her when she couldn't walk."We already have someone with the right class."

Tanya's attention moved to her own wrist, staring at the hunting knife.

"I have knives in the kitchen, we don't need a magic one," Tanya said, her voice wavering. She was already thinking about how she could make a knife that stopped the injury from hurting. Was that even possible?

"No," Ishita said. She took Tanya's hand from Mrs Eceer and turned it slightly so that Assistant was facing straight upwards. "You've already made the answer. Can you give me one too?"

Tanya started pacing. "I could do more than that—I could—I could give you something that healed, that fixed it and regrew it." She sounded unsure even to herself.

"I've heard bits and pieces about healing magic using this System Tanya," Mrs Eceer said. "Healing is fickle. Doing it wrong can leave them worse than where they started, and you don't even have a Class specialised in it."

"Then I'll learn—I'll practise," Tanya said. "How long do we have? Is your Vitality dropping?"

"Every few hours," Ishita said. "It last went down about 3 and a half ago."

Tanya stopped, cupping her palms against her head. "Fuck." She sat in the hopelessness before pulling herself back up again. "I—I have my sword now, and Ishita can heal. Fahad's a damage dealer an' Eceer's like a tank. It's like a proper party. If somewhere was close—we'd just need to find someone—"

"This isn't a video game!" Mrs Eceer yelled.

Tanya baulked.

She'd heard Mrs Eceer yell before—mid-combat, barking orders, rallying them against chaos. But this was different. There was no clash of steel, no snarling monsters to justify the volume. It was just them. Just the three of them standing in a room that suddenly felt too big.

Tanya felt herself shrinking, her chest tightening like a rope was cinching around her ribs. Her shoulders hunched involuntarily, an old instinct from childhood creeping in. No matter how much older she got, getting scolded turned her into that little girl who had once stood frozen under the weight of disappointed voices.

And now, there was nothing to hide behind—no mayhem, no distractions—just silence, thick and unyielding. The weight of Mrs Eceer's voice sat heavy on Tanya's skin like a bruise.

Mrs Eceer breathed in and out. Her fists were clenched, and her chest heaved in and out with each breath. Tanya didn't look her in the eyes.

Mrs Eceer's hands unclenched. "Fahad is a child. Ishita is a seamstress. You are a tattoo artist." If it wasn't for the overwhelming pit in her stomach, she'd have laughed at how Mrs Eceer said it. It was like she was naming a collection of the world's most useless things. It was so like Mrs Sneer to reduce people to the simplest, most dismissive labels possible.

Mrs Eceer exhaled, something between a sigh and a laugh. Tanya didn't expect it. She looked up.

"I'm a retired teacher. None of us are built for this."

And for the first time, Tanya considered Mrs Eceer might be as snide about herself as she was about other people.

"There's got to be someone else, right?" Tanya said, but the doubt crept in.

People close to us—folk who might've had some medical trainin'. Asad's missus above the kebab shop—was she a doctor or a nurse? We'd need a few options. Don't even know who's about and who's even…

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Could anyone get to us? Cars still work, but I ain't seen one all day. Who can actually get here? Most of my mates live outside London and trek in for work. Doubt the Tube's runnin'. Someone close by'd be better—someone who can get here on foot. How'd we even get in touch with 'em?

That's when she remembered the radio.

"Holy shit! I know someone. I have a radio. Can we ask him first? Please."

Tanya looked between them. Ishita shrugged. Mrs Eceer sniffed.

"As long as it doesn't take too long," Ishita said.

"Great!"

Tanya slipped out the door, feeling the wind on her face. The skirt whipped around her knees, creating cascading rolls in the breeze. Her heart hammered in her chest as she took a step forward, then another. She peered round the edge of the building, key clenched in one hand. Her vitality was up to 3 now; she could probably summon Phantom Brand if she needed to, but even just walking around, it was clear how stiff she was. Her body still didn't feel like hers. She lurched slightly like a mannequin, her ankles and knees quivering sometimes when she stepped wrong. The muscles in her arms screamed when she even just lifted her arm to put the key in the door. It wasn't a bad pain, just intense, but the twinge in her shoulders was different. She'd pulled muscles there.

She tiptoed up the stairs without really thinking about it. Her tapping footfalls echoed around the small corridor, and she winced. It wasn't like anyone was up here, aside from Fahad, but with each step, she expected another monster to appear at the door like before. She looked over her shoulder again, seeing nothing but the empty street through the little cracked window. The floor was tacky with the black substance. Each step peeled away with a wet, sucking squelch, followed by a sharp, tacky snap as the sole finally broke free.

She fumbled the little golden key to her front door, and it creaked open. The scent of her perfume and old books rushed out to meet her, wrapping around her like an old friend. She stepped inside, pressing her back against the door as she shut it, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. The worn wooden floor groaned beneath her weight, a familiar sound. She kicked off her shoes without thinking, the soles making a sticky sound against the floor, and padded into the living room, her fingers grazing the edge of the coffee table as she passed. The ugly golden lamp from Nanna, the tarot moon card on the wall—everything was exactly as she'd left it. The cushions still slumped into one another in a mismatched pile, her book lay abandoned, the plant leaves drooping lazily over it. It was all still here. She was still here. The weight in her chest loosened, just a little. She moved to the kitchen, running a hand over the counter, feeling the cool surface ground her. The slightly sour-smelling milk from her cereal bowl left on the counter wafted around.

The only signs that things were different were the bloodstains on the floor from the others searching for fabric for bandages and the boy, tangled in a blanket, sniffling in his sleep. She ignored the blood, watching Fahad instead. With each exhale, he'd slip into the shadows of the sofa, his face melting slightly at the edge and the new shadow extending along the cushions. Then he'd inhale and inflate again, and his face would be drawn out of the shadow into reality. Tanya felt a pang of missing her brother Tommy. He still sniffled in his sleep just like that.

Tanya stayed in the feeling for a moment. She carried the sour bowl to the kitchen and came back with a dried flower from a vase to use as a bookmark. The cover of her book was still bent, even when she closed it, from being left open on the table for so long. She nudged it down a few times, but the bend kept springing up again.

With a final look around the room, Tanya grabbed the walkie-talkie from the coffee table. It wasn't where she'd left it. She assumed Mrs Eceer or Ishita had moved it when they were searching. She ran her fingers across the textured wallpaper on the way out.

She felt ready now. A moment in her flat was exactly what she needed.

They dragged their stools across the worn wooden floor, the legs scraping with a low, grating sound before settling into place. Forming a tight triangle, Tanya, Ishita, and Mrs Eceer sat facing each other. The sun shone through the small window above the back door every so often before disappearing behind clouds.

"You better not tell me that this is contacting one of those gang members that assaulted you," Mrs Eceer said.

Ishita's brows knitted together in confusion. She flicked her gaze between them, searching their faces for context. "Gang members?" she echoed, the words slipping from her mouth like a question she wasn't sure she wanted answered.

Tanya grinned. "Sure Mrs Eceer. I won't tell you then." She turned to Ishita, "It's a long story."

The radio crackled in her hands, and Tanya almost dropped it. All eyes were on the walkie-talkie.

"Home Base, this is Scout Team 3. We've got multiple monsters movin' down Cambridge Heath and headin' toward the A11. It's more of those demagorgon wolf fuckers. Gonna stay out their way. I need a status check—sound off if you're still breathin'. Over."

A chorus of yeses and various swear-laden jokes filled the line. Tanya sat there, staring at the metal device in her hand. She assumed they were using the wrong channel. She hadn't heard updates like this before. It was uncanny thinking of how many of them there were and hearing them joke around like normal people.

Tanya held it up to her mouth and pressed the button with a shaking finger. She cleared her throat.

"Um, this is Tanya. I need to talk to Adder. Over."

"Ooooo Adder's gonna bash you one when he finds out you're on the wrong channel, Tucker! Over," a female voice chimed in.

There was a chorus of "Ooooo" and some laughter. The tracks glitched as they stacked on top of each other, cutting in and out.

"Fuck off," the original voice said again. Tanya assumed Trucker was his name. "I dunno how these things work. What's the message? I'll pass it on. Over."

Tanya pressed the button to speak again, but another voice cut her off..

"More wolf fucks over here on Bradley. We could probably take them. It's only a few. Over."

"Alright if you're sure," Trucker said. "Save bullets if you can."

Tanya looked between Mrs Eceer and Ishita. They looked as perplexed as she felt.

"Uh. It's Tanya again. We are looking for a medical Class. Someone who can fix real gnarly injuries and shit. We're on the clock." She let go of the button then remembered. "Oh yeah. Over."

Someone sniggered through the walkie-talkie. She didn't know who.

Trucker continued, "Yeah, we've got a couple of generic Stitchers, Martyrs and Combat Medics and then uh—Wolfie piss off with those bombs. You'll take us out with 'em lad."

Another voice chimed in on the same line. It was faint, a couple of feet away. "There's that new guy too, right? Bone Harvester or something?"

"Oh yeah," Trucker continued. "We have a couple Uniques too. Not sure if Bone Harvester guy can fix 'em or just fuck with 'em. I think there's a—like—Blood Saint or something too?"

"Nah, he died in the big one." The faraway voice chipped in.

"Oh man, shame. He was one of the good ones. Over." Trucker said. He genuinely sounded sad.

"Could you get one of those people to us? Over." Tanya asked.

"I mean, probably," Trucker replied. "What you offerin'? Over."

Fuck I didn't think this through.

"What do we have to offer them in return?" Tanya asked Mrs Eceer and Ishita. They both shrugged. Both of them were leaning forward in their seats, eyes locked on the device.

Tanya pressed down the walkie-talkie button again. "Uh, nothing specific in mind. I can obviously do Tattoo Summons. I assume Adder said. What would you want? Over."

"Not sure, mate." Trucker started. "How big's the rush? I could take an IOU for Adder but anything that isn't an obvious trade, like food or water or whatever, I'd need to wait. Same with summons. Adder would need to arrange specifics. Over."

Mrs Eceer placed a hand on the walkie-talkie and stared daggers at Tanya. "We are not taking any open-ended IOU with a gang."

"Uh, how about medical supplies?" Tanya said into the radio. "Got a lot of dressings and stuff. How's that? Over."

There was a pause. Tanya stared down at the walkie-talkie. Her heart hammered in her chest.

"Nah," he said eventually. "Unless you have anaesthetic or pain meds an' stuff, I don't think it's worth. Over."

Shit.

"How quick could you hear from him? Over." Tanya asked.

"Not sure, man—could be hours. He's out lookin' for the memory fucker."

"Ain't nobody interupt Adder when hes lookin' for the memory fucker," the faraway voice chipped in.

Trucker laughed. "Truth. Over."

It took Tanya a moment to realise they meant the guy who had taken from both their memories. She could still see that last image of him in her mind's eye—hot pink fluffy coat shimmying down his shoulders as he tipped his matching sunglasses down his nose.

"Wrap it up. This channel ain't a damn market. Over," a gravelly voice said.

Tanya's body tensed. It sounded like Dreadlocks. She knew it couldn't be. He was dead out on the street outside. The sound of it still sent ice crawling up her spine.

"Yes, Boss," Trucker said. "IOU is final offer. Over."

Would it be so bad?

She pictured cutting a hand off again, and her stomach churned. If there was any way she could get some ground rules in place, maybe the IOU wouldn't be so bad—

Mrs Eceer snatched it out of her hand and pressed the button. "We will not be taking this deal. Over." She dropped it onto the table with a clatter and stared Tanya down with venom. "I knew you were a risk taker, but I didn't think you were stupid."

Tanya opened her mouth to argue and closed it again.

Yeah, takin' that deal would've been stupid.

"Fuck," Tanya hissed, curling down until her elbows were on her knees and her head was in her hands.

She ran her hands down her face and groaned. "Give me some time to look at my new level-ups, and I'll try to work something out."

Ishita stood first, gently taking Mrs Eceer by the shoulder and guiding her out of the room. Tanya saw the hand again on the way out—layers and layers of bandages without any semblance of a hand shape underneath.

She slumped again.

Fuck.

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