Protector AI can do a lot. But they can’t do everything. One of the limitations is that their Vanguard must agree to the purchases, even to save their life. So, remember to either preauthorize any life saving purchases or make sure you’re with at least one other Vanguard that can assist.

  ~ Excerpt from the Family’s Pamphlet “So You’re A Samurai, Now What?”

  As I swept the landing, my augs highlighted a new threat. An M-9 was posing as a fire extinguisher.

  A snap of my wrist and the knife found its mark, causing the creature to sluff off of the wall. “Clear!” I called as I moved to the door.

  I had just stepped into the hall before a wet thud yanked me to the right. No alerts on my augs. Nothing. Just… pain.

  Pain that screamed.

  Wing’s voice was distant, muffled, like it was trapped underwater. My ears throbbed with the sound of my own heartbeat. Something hot was spreading across my chest.

  Someone grabbed my ankles, yanking me back as shots rang out. I caught a glimpse of movement, and then it hit me.

  It was… an arm.

  My arm.

  On the floor.

  Not attached. Not me.

  Pain blossomed in my head, white-hot and all-consuming. My stomach flipped. My vision tunneled, flickering with the overlays Wing kept trying to push at me.

  Amby! Get pressure! NOW!

  His words made it through the fog of terror, but I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t… I couldn’t… I screamed.

  Everything felt wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. My lungs burned, my stomach pitched. “Breathe, breathe, BREATHE!” I tasted copper. I couldn’t move my fingers. The floor tipped, the walls pulsed. My heart thudded like it wanted to burst out of my chest. My vision tunneled and exploded at the same time. Focus. Focus on the floor. Focus on the floor. Pressure! Pressure!

  “I… oh gods… I can’t… I can’t stop it!” My voice was strange to my ears.

  Somewhere, someone was saying instructions, calm and clipped, but I couldn’t reach them. I felt disconnected from my own body, watching it betray me in real time. Blood pooled beneath me. My arm wasn’t there.

  I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t stop the screaming that had taken over my throat.

  Ms. A…! Wing’s voice surged through the panic. AMBY! FOCUS!

  I tried. I tried. Fingers, legs, eyes, all moving in slow motion. Nothing obeyed. Pain raced through my nerves like fire, yet my mind screamed faster than I could think.

  Pressure against my shoulder. Someone’s hands, urgent and strong, holding me together while I teetered on the edge of collapse.

  You’re still here. You’re still alive. Focus. Pressure. Breathe.

  I wanted to hate him.

  I wanted to scream at him.

  I wanted to vanish.

  But through the fog, through the shock, through the panic, I did the only thing I could: I clutched the torn part of myself, braced it against the pain, and tried not to die.

  The world slowed.

  Not like in movies. No cinematic clarity, no sharp focus. Just… lag. Like my brain was a second behind reality.

  I was rolled onto my back.

  Adams was above me, his face swimming in and out of focus. His mouth was moving. He looked… wrong. His eyes were too wide.

  Worry?

  Concern?

  I wasn’t sure. My brain refused to label it.

  My vision slid past him, floating upward, adrift. The ceiling came into view.

  There was a water stain up there. A long, uneven brown shape spreading from a crack in the plaster.

  I wondered absently if it was from a leak.

  A violent tremor ran through my leg.

  It felt distant, like it belonged to someone else. Like I was watching it happen through glass.

  Someone grabbed my ankles. I felt pressure, a tug, and my body shifted. I tried to look, but my neck wouldn’t cooperate. Or maybe it did and I just didn’t notice.

  My head rolled to the side.

  Morgan was there.

  He looked young. Younger than he had a minute ago. His hands were slick and red as he pressed down on something just out of my line of sight.

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  There was a lot of blood on his armor.

  Was… was that my blood?

  The thought arrived calmly, without panic, like an idle observation. My mouth felt dry. My tongue tasted like copper. I swallowed and nothing happened.

  Another tremor tore through me, stronger this time. My teeth chattered hard enough that my jaw hurt.

  Cold.

  I was so cold.

  Somewhere nearby, someone was shouting. Orders, maybe. My name? It was hard to tell. The sounds reached me warped and underwater, stretching and snapping like bad audio.

  I tried to focus.

  Fingers pressed harder against the place where my arm should have been and I felt… nothing. Pressure, yes. Pain, screaming and bright. But no shape. No weight.

  My stomach rolled.

  “That’s bad,” a distant, rational part of me noted.

  Everything felt very far away. Even me.

  Someone was shouting my name again.

  It took a second to realize it wasn’t coming from outside.

  It was inside my head.

  Amby.

  Wing’s voice cut through the haze like a knife. Not loud. Not panicked. Sharp. Focused. Like he was grabbing me by the collar.

  Amby. Listen to me.

  I tried. By the Goddess, I tried. The effort felt like dragging my thoughts through mud.

  My fingers were numb. My arm…

  No.

  Not arm.

  You are experiencing severe blood loss. Wing’s tone was clipped, clinical. Your vitals are unstable. You are entering hypovolemic shock.

  Words slid past me without sticking.

  Blood loss.

  Shock.

  That sounded bad.

  I can stop the bleeding, he said, slower now. I can seal the wound and stabilize you. But I need authorization to proceed with the necessary purchases.

  “Then…” My voice came out broken, barely a sound. “Do it.”

  There was a pause.

  Not long.

  But long enough.

  Amby…?

  My brain stuttered. Purchase? Authorization? I couldn’t parse it.

  You said ‘do it.’ That’s good enough for government work. Wing’s tone was calm, almost gentle.

  New Purchase: Nano-Regenerative Suite

  Points reduced to… 3482

  New Purchase: Hemo-Restore x3

  Points reduced to… 3467

  New Purchase: WoundStop

  Points reduced to…3462

  Relief fluttered weakly in my chest. The world was still slowed. Sounds dragged in long loops. Pain ricocheted across every nerve ending.

  “Will it…” I rasped, teeth clenched. “Will it hurt?”

  Not more than it already does.

  Something warm slid down my cheek. Sweat, blood, or tears – I didn’t care. I just… held on.

  Then the fog began to shift, like a breeze that tried to dissipate it. The nausea eased slightly. My pulse slowed from the pounding roar in my ears to something faintly manageable.

  I vaguely saw Morgan moving and felt… sand? Being poured over what was left of my shoulder.

  Sand felt wrong. You don’t put sand in a wound.

  But the pain diminished.

  The hurting became less than background noise. Sounds started to creep back in. Morgan talking softly. His voice was strangely calm. Not what I expected at this moment.

  Adams was off to my… right? I think? He was talking to someone on what I guessed was the radio.

  One of the others was holding my legs up. No. That wasn’t quite right.

  They were resting their hands on my legs. But something was under them.

  I heard Morgan’s voice again. “Understood.” I wondered who he was talking to.

  A pressure on my neck. Twice more. But it didn’t hurt.

  The world started to come into focus. The water stain was still there on the ceiling, but now I noticed there were spots of red.

  A deep, shuddering breath sounded loud in my ears.

  “...’s stable. Morgan is working with…” Adams again.

  A mask being held to my face. Breathe in please, Ms. Ambrosia. Wing’s calm voice guided me along.

  Another breath. This one was like trying to inhale lightning. Burning sensations raced along my throat and filled my lungs. It hurt but only for a moment. And nothing compared to what I had been feeling.

  I wanted to stretch. Morgan was there again. “I need you to stay like this for a few minutes,” he said. For a medic, his bedside manner was wonderful.

  Whatever he did seemed to be helping.

  Ms. Ambrosia, I need you to do something for me. Why was Wing being so formal?

  “Sure.” My voice was still shaking. Why wouldn’t it stop?

  I need you to tell me five things you can hear right now.

  “Five things I can hear?”

  This will let me calibrate some things with your systems.

  Giving him a mental shrug, I listed off “I hear the hum of the cheap lights, the sound of Adams talking on the radio, Morgan moving something around next to me, someone breathing, and… does it count that I hear you in my head?”

  I’ll accept that for the moment. Now, I need you to tell me four things you can see.

  “That water stain on the ceiling, Morgan’s face, uhhhh…” I rolled my head to the side, away from Morgan. “The worn carpet, and Adams looking at me.”

  You’re doing great. Now, what are three things you smell?

  “Blood, wet mulch, and sweat.”

  Perfect. We’re nearly done. Can you tell me two things you can feel?

  My right hand moved a little. “I feel that carpet and someone holding my legs.”

  Last question. What is something you can taste?

  “I’ve still got a hint of strawberry from that soda I had on the last floor.”

  You did amazing. Now, I need you to tell me how you’re feeling.

  “I…” I had to pause because I didn’t quite know how I was feeling. I wanted to say I was fine, but that wasn’t quite right. Physically, the pain had been so far removed that I didn’t really notice it any more. Mentally… that was a different answer.

  On one hand, I felt… stable. Yeah. That seemed correct. But I also kinda knew that there was a lot I needed to process. The kind of shit I might need some therapy for.

  “I’m okay… ish. I think.”

  At this, I felt the pressure on my ankles let up and looked down. Voss was getting to his feet and gave me a weak smile.

  Morgan gave me a small smile. “Glad we didn’t lose you, ma’am.”

  Why would they have lost me?

  I’m glad you’re back with us, Amby. Wing’s voice had taken on his warm tone again. I didn’t like Serious Wing?. A lot has happened in the past few minutes. I’m going to go over everything while you keep lying on the ground. The Hemo-Restore needs time to work.

  Discord for that!