Rick had expected to need weeks to be able to be allowed off the bed. Instead, the pink haired nurse had given him a series of light healing sessions, a short minute-long thing every hour. By the fifth hour, his body had at least stopped hurting from merely existing.

Apparently that had been enough to earn him being taken off the bed and onto a wheelchair. Not that he could do that on his own, no matter how hard he wanted to. Which was why the pink-haired nurse was currently in the process of helping him into said wheelchair. She moved him with an ease that made him feel like he was a rag-doll and weighed so little he was filled with fluff.

“Dia,” Rick spoke out, reading the name tag. “So that’s your name.” He gave her a slight smile. “Had me at a disadvantage for a while there.”

“Oh, the Harpy flew over the nest on that one, sorry about that, sir.” Dia beamed, tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear. “My name is Dia O’Four. My accent might not show it, but I’ve lived in Astunes most of my life. I’m domestic through and through.”

He tilted his head slightly at her proclamation, if there was an accent to be had, he was clearly not picking up on it. Not that he ever had the ear for such things. Still, there were several words there for which he wasn’t all too sure what they meant. He at least figured which one was in regard to their current location. “Rick Cross.” He offered a hand to shake. Just lifting his arm proved a struggle. “I’m definitely not from Astunes though.”

“That much I could tell, sir.” She winked, holding his hand with both of hers, pulling it and kissing his wrist. “I would’ve definitely remembered meeting you before.” Her tone had a husky edge to it and a cocky smile.

His back straightened slightly, eyes widening. “Wait, do I have scars?”

The edge vanished and panic emerged. “No!” Dia quickly replied. “No, no, it… was a… compliment, sir.” She flushed, noticing his smirk. “Oh, you were selling a doggirl for a hound.”

“What?”

“Tricking me.” She quickly declared, a slight pout as she let go of his hand.

Before he could reply to that, she’d hurried to stand behind him. Her hands pushed the wheelchair slowly forward. Though Rick felt tempted to bring back up the topic, he opted to remain quiet and focus on the world around him instead. The place had a certain “hospital” feel to it, though there were differences that kept drawing his attention. The doors were wooden with glass panels to peer inside. Most of them had a tiny black curtain drawn though to block sight. There were also benches at either side of the corridor, made of dark wood and black metal, and small tables for apparent decoration.

Some of the tables had small books. Most of these magazines had rather well-proportioned males on their cover. But they were worn, the pictures lacked color, and there was a roughness to their design that made Rick think of old paper.

“Oh, taking your favorite patient for a spin?”

The voice came from behind them. Rick couldn’t see it, but Dia slowed down just barely. “He’s meeting the Major.”

“He came in five minutes ago, he’s in the sealed meeting area.”

“Sealed?”

“It’s the meeting place for patients under quarantine,” Dia replied offhandedly. “Basic precaution with off-worlders. We need to make sure you don’t have anything that might hurt humans here, or that we might have anything that could hurt you.”

“Is this… normal? To have off-worlders?”

“Not really, no, it is very rare in fact.” The nurse hummed. “But there was a rather horrid outbreak long ago, so there’s been basic protocols in place to minimize risks.” She hummed. “I heard that the last confirmed off-worlder was in the country of Gretia about a decade ago? This is certainly the first time a whole group has shown up, though. Village this small? I’m betting they’ll still be talking about it a hundred years from now.”

“Wait.” Rick frowned. “If we could be infectious, then you…”

“I’m a Rapha, but besides that, Mister Gabriel’s Mousegirl came back clean. If you had anything that could pose an immediate harm to a maiden, she would’ve shown signs of it. So the quarantine is mostly to protect local humans while we run the analysis.” The wheelchair swerved to the right. “Ah! Mister Tomas had mentioned it, that in your world you need special gear to avoid infection? With the proper training, we Raphas can create a sterilization barrier around ourselves to avoid contamination.” There was an edge of pride in those words.

“I… see…”

There was more and more to take in. Rick felt like he was trying to grasp at straws, so many details to think about, so many things that were not working under the rules he thought they should. The chemist in him was certainly screaming out for more information.

But the time to ask questions came to a quick end when she rolled him into a baby blue room. It was split in two, with a wooden wall in the middle, and a large window squarely in place. There were chairs on either side, all of them made out of the same dark wood and black metal.

At the other side of the glass stood a very large tall man. Large enough that Rick was unable to see him entirely due to being larger than the window.

The man was at least two meters tall and his shoulders almost seemed half as wide. His black hair was cut to an exact flat surface at the top of his head, his face a featureless mask of stern determination atop deeply tanned skin. He had a clean shave, and Rick half-expected he’d intimidated his own beard to jump off and make a run for it. Wearing a deep brown uniform with leather armor, Rick couldn’t recognize any of the insignias that were on it, but it looked formal and important. Despite the dark brown armor, it almost seemed like a dress uniform more than a practical one.

Rick’s chair wheeled to a stop in front of the glass.

And Rick had to look upwards at the man standing there. The insignias made him out to be important, and his physique was nothing but imposing. This guy had come over to talk to him just because he’d asked for a chat?

Rick kept from squirming, meeting the steely blue eyes of the larger man. “Major Huge,” Dia spoke behind the chemistry teacher, releasing the wheelchair. “If you need anything, sir, please don’t hesitate to call. I will be right outside.”

“Thank you.” He nodded, holding back the gulp as he turned back to the Major.

“Professor Cross.” The man thrust his chest slightly outwards, tensing. His voice boomed, loud enough it almost rattled the glass that stood between them. “I am Major Gabriel Huge. I am the one in charge of the Twentieth Hunter division. I am the commanding officer of all Hunters within Astunes.”

“Please call me Rick,” the young man quickly said.

“Certainly, Rick.” Major Gabriel Huge took a long look at Rick, frowning ever so slightly. “If I may ask, am I right to assume you are a… civilian?”

“Yes.”

“So the position of professor is not one that forms part of the military command, correct?”

Rick nodded more slowly. “Correct.”

“Oh thank fuck.” The man deflated, shoulders slumping as he sighed. The Major slumped down onto the chair on his side of the wall with a thump. A nervous chuckle left him. “If I’d wanted to play politics, I would’ve asked to be sent elsewhere. This saves so much hassle.”

“Excuse me?” Rick quirked a brow. “Did I miss something?”

“Nothing, it’s more to do with how we run things here. It’s honestly better if you’re not like the local average ‘professor’. They tend to be uppity pricks.” The man snorted loudly, rolling his eyes and leaning back. His chair groaned in complaint.

Rick couldn’t help but feel as if he’d been slapped. “I’m sorry?”

That made Huge squirm. “Erm, right, fuck, I’m always bad at this.” The man sighed, shoulders slumping further as he scratched the back of his head. “I was told you wanted to talk to me? What can I do for you?”

“… yeah…” Taking several seconds to organize his thoughts. Monica, right. “I wanted to know about the white haired… Tigress?”

“She’s caught and contained. The Baron commandeered that… particular situation,” the Major spoke with a growl and a shake of his head, pointing over his shoulder. “And let me tell you, what you did was damn impressive. Saving little Ginny like that? I’ll definitely pay however many beers you might need to share how you got to survive White Claw.”

“The what now?”

“White Claw. Local folk call her that, she’s been sort of a slippery headache for us… for five years, give or take.” A scowl followed. “Baron’s lost some good people trying to catch her.” There was a long look on his face as he sighed further. For a man that looked like a mountain, he seemed about to crumble. “We’ve all lost some good people.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” It felt like a decent thing to say, considering the circumstances.

“Not much you could’ve done about it short of showing up sooner.” There was a slight smile there, his energy quickly coming back up. “I have to know though, kind of an important question, really. How did you manage to handle her? Is it one of those weird other-worlder powers? Did you bond her?”

“Bond?”

“You know, to break the feral state.” Huge moved one of his meaty hands to point at his neck. “Over here we need one of those fancy collars to pull it off.”

Now it was Rick’s turn to frown. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

That appeared to surprise the Major, and the man leaned back, crossing his arms slightly. “Hm… are you sure you don’t have a bond? Irene hadn’t had the chance to properly check, but she did mention it was likely you were bonded. Maybe you’ve noticed odd things? Like sensing White Claw’s emotions? Words seeming to pop into your mind?”

“I don’t…”

The frown deepened. Had he felt anything weird around Monica? Rick could’ve sworn he’d heard her voice inside his mind back when he was in the river. Had that been a hallucination from the lack of air? Maybe if he could-

A flash of cold shiver swept through him.

Darkness, locked, trapped, hungry, scared, angry. Pain. Claws scraping against cold stone.

“Nurse!” a voice rang out. It felt far away, as if Rick’s ears were under water.

The voice rung distantly. Rick realized he’d fallen off the wheelchair. His body was drenched, his breathing hard. Pain throbbed through every inch of his body, everything was becoming blurred. The tingling warmth of Dia’s hands pressed against his shoulder, and the cold dread was instantly gone.

His mind cleared, his senses coming back to him in quick order. Breathing hard, the young man did his best to regain control of his breathing.

“I think we’ll have to postpone this until you’re in better health.” Huge spoke, looking at him with a deep frown, turning to Dia. “Take care of him, please.”

“I will, sir.”

The nurse lifted him up, carrying him in her frail arms as if he didn’t weigh almost twice what she did. The nurse had a smile that hid concern as she glanced at him only briefly, blushing and focusing on putting him back in the wheelchair.

His eyes lingered on the green choker that adorned her throat.