An all too familiar scene, the stench of bloody used bandages permeating the air with the stench of death and a sickening atmosphere. Those who knew first aid scurried across the floor, accepting a steady deluge of new victims of the recent massacre. Many had already died, unrecoverable from bleeding out or in shock or sporting wounds too grievous to patch in time.

Emis walked between the rows of white mats, passing out healing brews like they were candy. First responders grasped the glowing concoctions in their hands, gently popping off the cork with expert ease to administer to patients. The liquid splashed over injuries, sinking into flesh and bone as they weaved it together perfectly. Skin and muscle grew over rapidly repairing cracks in bones, connecting to hide the fact that the flesh had ever been split, blood spilt.

Men and women, fading away in the throes of death, were revitalized, sitting up in surprise to find themselves alive and doing just fine. Many cried, glad for a second lease on life, while others leapt from their sheets to assure their loved ones of their safety. He was used to it by now, having experienced it many times before in the backlines, years ago when he was a hopeful fledgling alchemist. Memories of beasts with obsidian skin crashing into formations, thrashing soldiers left and right… came to mind.

In front of him now was a particularly nasty patient, too many broken bones to count and temporarily sustained through healing magic and sheer luck. It was truly astonishing how hardy some people were, able to survive through even the toughest times. Someone with the willpower to remain living through great punishment deserved a one more chance to live their life how it was meant to be, or so he thought as he drew a bottle from his pouch of various tidbits. He observed the swirling multicolored liquid, floating around its container unaffected by gravity.

Uncapping it and tilting the bottle caused the glowing substance to drip slowly from the mouthpiece into the patient’s mouth. Then the drips became a small but steady stream, and the woman opened her eyes. The vial clattered to the ground, empty, as the good-as-dead servicewoman sat up and found her injuries mysteriously gone, speeding past the conventional methods of recovery that were commonly available to the public.

“I… Thank you, sir. Your potion saved my life.”

“Don’t mention it. It was an experimental batch anyway, and I needed to test its performance in the field. You were just in the right place at the right time.”

She looked at the empty vial and back at Emis, squatting next to her bedding.

“Experimental? So you haven’t tested it for side effects or anything?”

“Well I’m testing it right now. I hope you’re not feeling any… side effects.”

The woman was suddenly acutely aware of every movement she made, every breath she took, tense in anticipation. Surely an experimental potion of this caliber was not perfect, sure to have some unintended consequences. Seconds passed by, nerves fraught with fear. Emis watched her closely for any worrisome health problems that may be caused by his brand new brew.

“So far I see trembling and sweating, and a bit of paleness.”

“Hard to not shiver in terror when you tell the person who just drank your very powerful potion that it's never been used before and could hurt me permanently.”

“I’ve got confidence in my alchemist abilities. I’m committed to safety first for the consumer. What’s the worst that could happen?”

The patient threw off her bedsheets, lifting her arm in a telegraphed motion. Her hand came up, palm outstretched, hand flying forward, carried by her arm towards his face. With incredible force, she smacked him across the cheek, the force of the blow throwing him back onto his back, head hitting the ground, stunning him. She was so surprised by how hard she hit him she stared at her hand in confusion. In terms of side effects… She could work with this.

Pion’s drones fanned out over the frosty northern forests, partially obscured in the region’s constant state of slow but steady snowfall. Tall fir and pines (presumably) stood tall in the unrelenting winter cold, tipped with snow. Little heat signatures lit up on the ground, from little rabbits roaming the pure white drifts covering the ground. The occasional moose crunched the fresh fallen flakes as they trapaised through the forest unconcerned.

Long range sensors quickly located the backline camps that Hieft and his forces had retreated to, past many miles of forest. Towering smoke trails marked their campsite, far away from the city. People recovered, treating the wounded and maintaining their weapons. Messengers scurried back and forth, acting as relays for the whole camp. Hieft sat in his command tent with his [Battlefield Tacticians], pushing pieces and planning his perfect plot for a penultimate victory.

Harvesters began to drill into the covered earth, carving a path towards the main dungeon. Having a direct, concealed path to the enemy would smooth out complications regarding the survival of any stragglers. With no time to prepare, wiping them out in one fell swoop would surely be much easier. It was unlikely that they could all be eliminated, but to destroy most would be sufficient to discourage further aggression.

Cameras scoped out the surrounding space, monitoring the forest for disturbances from the relative safety of high branches. Autonomous robots quickly hollowed out a storage/garrison center from which combat units could be deployed at a moment’s notice, as well as charging stations and reactors to provide that power.

Far away, Pion walked through the open fields characteristic of this biome, viewing the live feed of the planned expansion area. Currently no one of note had intruded on the space, as the entrance was far enough away that it was unlikely anyone would stumble across the opening on accident. Occasionally the odd slime would collide with her heavy metal legs wearing boots and experience the feeling of being unintentionally punted across the landscape. Clad in freshly cleaned durable trousers and plain unassuming shirt, she was nearly passable (from behind).

Arriving at the city gate. Passing through was much more annoying, as the guards were not content to simply let her through, suspicious of her “mask”. They wouldn’t even take no for an answer. Unlike the last time, there were no conveniently timed weather events for her to take advantage of in order to enter the city unperturbed. These person to person interactions were draining, since it was impossible to predict exactly with precision what someone would do.

Perience grabbed the guard’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Don’t worry sir, she’s with me. I’ll take responsibility for her.”

“Well, if it’s you I suppose I can overlook it. Thanks for helping with the city defense, by the way. My brother was one of the archers you saved.”

“It was no trouble. I was just doin’ my part. Always happy to help.”

And just like that he defused the situation. It was astonishing how easily he was able to brush past regulations to achieve his own ends… something Pion was interested in doing herself. Subversion of rules was vitally important when she was in the business of performing her duty to her creators.

“Sorry for the trouble, Pion. You know how it is, rules are rules. They always have to be careful of any suspicious persons.”

“How did you do that?”

“Do what, exactly?”

“How did you convince the guard to ignore the rules for you, if they are so important for the continued function of the city?”

“They are not that important. It’s not hard to ask them to make an exception if you’re well-known.”

That was much too vague to be useful. She needed to press for more information, spitting out default query voice lines.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite get that. What do you mean by well-known?”

The sudden slip from realistic speech to mechanical imitation startled him for a second, so he chalked it up to typical Pion weirdness and thought nothing further of it.

“It’s like if you’re famous for being a good person and helping people. A lot of folks will know you for being nice and they’ll help you out in return.”

“Does being infamous fulfill those same qualifications?”

“I suppose being feared could also get you what you want, but it’s quite evil. Hurting the innocent is never a palatable idea. But I’m sure you wouldn’t do that. Right?”

Pion debated whether to tell the truth or lie, and decided that the best course of action would be expertly changing the subject to avoid the uncomfortable question.

“Is there any reason why you were about to exit the gate but didn’t? I do not think you came to the gate just to talk.”

“I was going to look for you, actually. You’re not busy, right?”

“I have deduced that I should head to the Adventurer’s Guild and take more jobs in order to increase in rank rapidly to accrue reputation in order to achieve the status of ‘well-known’.”

“Actually, on that topic, I might have an even better job for you, if you want quick rank promotions. It would be a quick boost, to silver or even gold if we do well.”

“Not enough information to make an informed decision. More details required.”

Perience looked around to make sure no one was listening, pulling her into a nearby alleyway, speaking in hushed tones.

“This mission is a little more important than normal, and you’re quite strong as I’ve seen. How would you feel about scouting and reconnaissance?”

“It would depend on the caliber of the opponent that I am scouting. I won’t take on any enemy outside of my capabilities.”

“How would you feel about taking on warriors? Not much magic or anything, just barbarians from the North with skills and Skills.”

Skills were very interesting, actually, now that she had one of her own. Seeing the effects of Skills on Arane’s normally uninteresting body highlighted their power. Coupled with the obsession that everyone had with the Skill, it was easy to come to the logical conclusion that Skills played a great factor in running the world. They defied the rules of the universe at every turn, concentrating power in the higher classes. With these superpowers, those with better skills were much harder to kill and less vulnerable than those back on Earth.

“I will accept on the condition that you tell me more about what Skills there are in circulation at this time. What types, their strength, and their relative distribution among the population.”

“Ah, I see: knowing the enemy so you can defeat them at any moment? Basic warrior’s tenet. I can ask Vetrean for the exact statistics.”

“Will there be anyone else taking part in this operation?”

“There will be more, don’t worry. We’ll plan everything out in advance and I’ll fill you in on the details before we go.”

And as Perience put together the pieces of his upcoming task force, Emis rubbed his cheek, still smarting from the slap. After a bit of practice he could now consistently complete the process of creating his new experimental potion. Now he just had to name the thing. It didn’t just heal either, since it also boosted the physical abilities of the user temporarily. It was a terrific healing potion, a mild vigor brew, and an effective second wind. What kind of name did such a powerful mix deserve? It was no cheap commercial potion, no. The ingredients were not available in bulk on the market, so it cost a pretty penny to have them imported.

Watching the liquid float around, he hoped that the world would remember him someday for his alchemical skill. Only through his research and hard work would he be able to leave his mark on the planet. His desire to be known, even after death, led him to name the elixir he had created something a little pretentious; The Emis Special. And it would be known for many years to come, as Emis rose to prominence. But that is a story for another time.