With wide eyes, Amara held the Treasure up to the light. While it wasn’t all that large, in her small hands, it looked massive. Squinting, her eyes roamed its surface, scouring every faucet and studying every aspect with the razor focus of a vulture in a cemetery. To Brock’s side, Mio snorted and crossed her arms.

“So?”

As if her voice was a slap across the face, Amara recoiled and her eyes snapped in her direction. Briefly, they flicked over to Brock, but quickly came back to Mio. She laughed lightly, “Sorry, sorry. I just didn’t expect you to actually bring it back. And such a high quality one at that…”

Brock furrowed his brows as his ex-girlfriend spun around and pulled a corked flask from the cupboard to her left. Within contained a crimson fluid, although it was rather light coloured and contained speckles of a darker red.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he pressed.

Chuckling, Amara waved him off, not bothering to look in his direction, “Nothing, nothing. Don’t worry.”

Going silent and ignoring the unimpressed glares from both Brock and Mio, she placed the flask upon her bench and got to work. Brock moved around and watched her curiously from the side. With a swift movement from her thumb, the chemist uncorked the glass bottle, and grabbed a funnel.

The clear plastic of it was dulled and worn but seemed to do its job just fine as she inserted the slim end into the flask’s neck. She grabbed another bottle and poured a transparent fluid down the funnel, making the crimson solution bubble and churn moments later.

With practiced precision, she removed the funnel and moved over to a chopping board. With a blade sharper than most pre-System knives, she put the Treasure down and sliced in two, then four. Flashbacks of the destruction of the User Tailored Treasure he’d gotten from killing South almost made him run forward screaming, but what Amara did next stopped him.

Only a single wisp of energy escaped the fruit before the woman’s aura spread out and surrounded the magical item. Brock watched with his Sight as her aura wrapped its mass tightly, akin to plastic wrap, and kept the energies contained. That’s some good fucking aura control…

Brock glanced over and saw Mio with a cocked brow. She seemed to think so too.

As though the display was the most normal thing in the world, Amara quickly grabbed what appeared to be a conventional blender from underneath her workbench and placed it atop. Her hand flicked out and grasped the power cord, before promptly plugging into a socket upon the wall. Silently, Brock found himself amazed at how many post-apocalyptic cities had power these days.

Who knew solar panels really were the energy of the future?

In a single, sweeping motion, Amara scooped up the four quarters of the Treasure, and deposited them into the blender. Then she pressed the button, her aura shifting to encompass the entire glass container, instead of the fruit itself. A loud hum filled the silence of the room. Behind him, Brock heard one of the patient’s groan.

It seemed they were used to Amara noisy antics at this point. The woman really needed to get her own lab. Idly, with a mischievous smirk, Brock wondered if King’s Cavity would supply one. Although, she’s basically this places only healthcare…

He scrapped the idea. For now.

Soon, the sound of blending died down, leaving about half a cup’s worth of luminous yellow fruit juice resting at the bottom. From where he stood, Brock could tell it was rather pulpy, though by the screaming of his cells, he was certain they didn’t care.

As Amara reached out and grasped the flask, he wondered how she was going to fit all that juice inside the small glass bottle, let alone contain the energy while she poured it in. She might need that funnel ag… huh?

Instead of what he’d expected, Amara pulled off the blender’s lid, her aura keeping the energies from escaping, and poured the crimson solution inside. A second later, the lid was secured once more, and the device filled the room with a loud hum.

Was chemistry always so… simple? He had taken Chemistry in Year 10 – big mistake, it was way too hard – and he couldn’t ever remember stirring his solutions with a blender. Times change, I guess.

Brock’s eyes narrowed to slits as he continued to watch the process unfold, even as Amara began to inject some of her own aura into the mixture. He couldn’t tell what its purpose was, but as he witnessed it diffuse into the fluid, he was at least certain it was instilling, augmenting or affecting some property of the contents.

He snorted, and glanced at Mio, who seemed strangely interested. Yeah, nice one. Really narrows it down, mate.

Slowly, as the fluids mixed and accepted the chemist’s aura, the concoction adopted a dim glow and a shimmering sheen, like liquid diamonds. Idly, Brock felt his cells soothe in their gluttonous fervour, although they still seemed rather intent on the consumption of it.

The seconds passed as the blender slowed and let the potion rest. Amara leaned left and right, studying the result with a critical eye, until she finally nodded to herself and hummed happily. Grabbing the handle, she twisted the glass container and pulled it off the blender.

“Here.” Then she handed the entire thing to Brock, her aura receding from its surface. Strangely enough, the energies no longer seemed to want to waft away and escape. So, either the original mixture or her aura were some sort of bonding agent. Interesting…

With furrowed brows, the man took the container from her hands and glanced at it. Scepticism showed on his face, “Amy, you want me to drink straight from this?”

“Yep. Not like it’s gonna fit in the flask.”

Brock shrugged and detached the lid, “Can’t argue with that.”

The overwhelming scent of dragon fruit flowed up his nostrils as he held the container up to his lips, and Brock felt the cells in his face and nasal cavity squeal in pleasure. The effects of the Treasure had certainly been dulled by whatever Amara had done, but it seemed it would still be beneficial outside of the extra time it’d buy him.

He tilted the container further, and the first bit of the concoction slipped past his lips. Over to his side, and in front of him, he noticed both Mio and Amara watching him intently. Here goes, I guess.

Tasting of something akin to a fruit smoothie, and with a texture thin like a milkshake, it slid down his gullet, past his throat and landed directly in his stomach. Before he’d even finished the magical potion, he felt his stomach growing warm and energy diffusing into his bloodstream.

Finally, a gulp resounded, and he swallowed the remaining portion of the concoction. Amara stepped forward as he wiped his mouth and took the container for herself, “How do you feel?”

“…Warm?”

Quickly, that warmth in his stomach had spread through the entirety of his body, flowing through every vein, infusing every organs and tickling every cell. It was rather pleasant, like sitting in a spa, though he had no idea if it was having its intended purpose.

Then he was beset with the urge to vomit.

“Gugh!” his hand whipped up and clasped over his lips, preventing anything from escaping, just in case.

“Brock?!” Amara rushed forward and her hand fell upon his back. Mio crept in from the side and pulled up a chair for him to sit on. He fell back into it, retching.

Suddenly, his stomach felt so full, like it was about to burst at the seams. He felt its contents roiling, bubbling up to the entrance and begging to be released. As if this was a common occurrence, Amara skipped over and grabbed a bucket from under her bench. It carried the faint scent of old vomit, but Brock leaned over it, nonetheless.

I’d… rather not… vomit in her house…

When the contents of his stomach finally broke free, he was happy to let it explode out his mouth and slop into the bucket. The only problem was, it didn’t stop. Over and over, he gagged and retched, puke the consistency and colour of oil bursting past his teeth and dripping down into the bucket.

Quickly, the stench of old blood filled the room, and within the strange fluid, Brock caught sight of a variety of floating chunks, probably clots. I’m… vomiting up all my blood…?

Mio seemed to come to the same conclusion as another surge of vomit splattered into the bucket, and she spun around, grabbing Amara by the collar of her lab coat, “What the fuck did you do?”

Her voice was low, and lacked and uproarious emotion, but the seething rage within was clear.

“I… I… didn’t do anything!” Amara pleaded, backtracking and ripping Mio’s hands from her coat, “his body seems to be purging its impurities. That’s the effects of a Treasure; refining, purification.”

With bloody bile dripping from his chin, Brock glanced up, “I’m… expelling the impurities in my blood…?”

Amara nodded, keeping her eyes on Mio and her rippling shadow.

Another surge of puke punctuated the silence, and eventually, Mio stood down and took up a seat of her own. Brock’s eyes watered from the act of vomiting, and he stared directly into the contents of the bucket. He’d managed to fill it up almost a quarter of the way by now, and the thought that that was how many impurities his blood contained horrified him.

It was strange, but as his eyes parsed apart every ripple and reflection in the dark liquid, he thought he could make out a face peering down at him from behind his shoulder, one different from his own or Mio’s. He turned and glanced behind him, but there was nothing there. And as he looked back, the reflection was gone.

What the…?

The memory of the figure from before he’d passed out all those days ago came back, and his brows furrowed in concern. Do I still have some brain trauma, or is something else going on? Weird…

The process of him spewing up black and retching till his throat hurt continued for another half hour, requiring Amara to change the bucket once before it overflowed. The sheer amount spoke of the extent of damage his waning lifeforce had inflicted upon his body, as all the impurities created by it were expelled.

While he was rather amazed at the volume of it more, the fact that Amara had actually announced that she’d be keeping all his impurities for study had amazed him more. To him, that oily black fluid was no different from faeces. What she could possibly glean from studying it, he had no idea.

But he had shelved those matters aside when he spewed the final time and was instantly met with a surge of strength flowing through his limbs. He had felt a small, almost unnoticeable increase in power when the potion had first assimilated into his bloodstream, and he’d pinned that on the gaining of a few race levels.

Looking down at his hand, he flexed his fingers and balled them into a fist, feeling the power within the action. What’s this from?

“You ok?” Mio leaned down and asked, her voice adopted a tad bit more concern than he was used to. He glanced up at her and nodded, and she seemed satisfied.

Amara snuck a glance his way, but for the most part seemed rather intent on studying his expulsions immediately; she’d already arrayed out a variety of pipettes, flasks and burners. Brock looked down at his hands once more. Whatever she made, it fucking worked.

The dark veins that had been evident across his body had faded, and while they weren’t back to normal, they had reduced to a deep blue, and were no longer bulging. His skin too, had regained some colour since he was last hospitalised, adopted something of a darker, almost tan like, colour. Even all that aside, he just felt better than he had in a long while; healthier.

The unexplained increase in power still left him curious, however. Licking the clinging gunk from his lips, Brock spat it down into the bucket and opened his status.

Huh.

As he read over his new and improved status menu, two lines among the many present stood out to him.

Race: Human [F] LVL 73

Purified I: Undergo blood purification once. +5% to all stats. Increased stat power.

Well, that explains it.

While he observed that the potion Amara had prepared had actually given him a sizeable 6 race levels, the more attention-grabbing matter was the new title he’d gained, Purified. It seemed blood purification was actually something that was done out in the Multiverse, and it apparently came with its benefits, aside from buying a dying man time.

Brock whistled quietly. +5% increased stats… and increased stat power. What does that mean? My stats do more for the same amount? Hmmm.

Curious, and having the gears churn in his head, Brock spent his remaining 6 free stats on Dexterity, hoping to even out his balancing act between it and Agility. Promptly afterwards, he closed his menu and stood. He still felt somewhat dizzy, but other than that, he was fine.

Mio glanced at him as he stood, and she stood herself. Amara didn’t even seem to notice his movements. Idly, as the man nursed his sudden onset of vertigo, he clasped his eyes shut and looked inward, spending a moment to survey his paths.

Wait… fuck YES!

They hadn’t healed entirely, but from the way that his pathways seemed to have regrown slightly, it seemed the drink he’d had had somehow dulled the energies preventing their regeneration. It still looked like it’d be a few more months until they were repaired, but progress had been made, nonetheless.

Mio snorted humorously, “You look happy.”

He glanced at her, trying to hide his small grin from his healing paths, “I’m dying slowly and just vomited up a bucket and a half’s worth of black goo. As you can see, I’m overjoyed.”

“Right…”

I wonder if I can get Amara to make some more later, just in case something like this happens again? It’d be something he’d ask her another time, when his life wasn’t slowly ticking downward.

As Brock stretched himself out to his full height, and rewarded the surroundings with a series of resounding pops, he accessed his spatial ring and his phone flickered into his hand. His thumb blurred as he messaged Adam, the phone struggling to keep up with his speed of input. As he sent the message, a few words were spelled wrongly because of it, but he didn’t care.

Hopefully, Adam would get back to him soon about any potential Treasures nearby them. Humming to himself, he quickly sent their current location as well, using GPS. Mountainhome, huh?

The phone disappeared back into his ring, and he coughed into a hand, “Amy.”

Almost like she’d been shot, the woman fell over her bench, narrowly missing her collection of now filled flasks and spilling them all over the area. She quickly got herself together and turned around, eying him with shock, “You’re up? How’re you feeling?”

“Good,” he straightened his back slightly, and resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair. Why do I feel so… awkward? “Amara, me and Mio are gonna leave soon, probably within the hour. It was… it was good seeing you.”

Mio glanced at him, seeming silently judgemental that her own decision had been made for her, but he ignored her. Amara looked between the two of the in silence, before stepping forward, “Are you sure? You just… expelled all of that gunk, and it was only half a day ago that you were well enough to get out of bed.”

Brock sighed. He had no idea why, but he felt really… strange, about seeing his ex again. Old emotions came up, most he’d rather not have, and he felt an odd sense of weirdness settle over him, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure. Gotta keep moving, or I’ll, you know, die.”

She seemed to stew on it for a few seconds before nodded, “…Alright. At least let me see you to the door.”

I didn’t mean immedi… eh whatever. Brock smiled and nodded her way. Mio gave him a pat on the back and shadows consumed her. He sensed her appear about a hundred meters away, probably on a rooftop. Rolling his eyes at her, Brock joined Amara and continued down the hall, past the volunteers chatting on the old couches, and out the door.

Brock turned to say his goodbyes, but the sensation of soft lips on his own gave him pause. His mind blanked for a second as he gazed down and sighted Amara’s face pressed closely against his own, and instinctively, he almost grappled her down to the ground in defence at the sudden movement. Fortunately, he stopped himself, and remained motionless.

What… the hell is happening right now?

It took a few seconds, but his ex-girlfriend finally broke the embrace and stepped back, her cheeks coloured by a deep blush, her arms crossed defensively. She glanced away, seemingly afraid to meet his gaze, “Uh… just… pay me a visit when your done with whatever… I still owe you that coffee… remember?”

Brock furrowed his brows. Now that he thought about it, Amara had promised to buy him coffee after they’d broke up, mostly because he’d lent her a few hundred bucks a short while later. She’d been recently unemployed and eating two minutes noodles. It wasn’t like he could’ve let her eat like that every day.

“I… vaguely recall that.” He said, still trying to remember the rest of the details.

Amara laughed lightly, and crossed her arms tighter, “Good, good. Well, I’ll… uh… look forward to the next time we see each other…”

“Yeah…”

For a while silence reigned, Brock feeling far too awkward to pass anything through his vocal cords. Fortunately, Amara had always been the more social one in their relationship. She stepped back inside her house and began closing the door, “Goodluck with your problem, Brock.”

“Thanks.” The ending of his gratitude was cut off by the sound of a slamming door.

Quietly, the man prowled down the steps and strolled along the streets. Within his ring, his phone dinged, signalling that Adam had replied, but he ignored it. The distance between him and Amara’s house grew and finally, he opened his mouth.

“My life is so fucking weird.”