Mio
[Time Remaining: 0:58]
The first Draugr lunged.
Mio threw herself sideways. Bone claws raked the stone where her head had been.
[HP: 19/106]
[MP: 13/77]
Nineteen HP. Thirteen MP. Not enough to cast.
She hit the ground and rolled, came up gasping. The bleeding from Aoi's daggers had slowed to a seep, but it hadn't stopped. Each heartbeat pushed more of her onto the stone.
Her hand came up on instinct. Point. Channel.
[Casting: Mend]
[FAILED: Insufficient MP]
Nothing. She'd spent everything fighting back against the people who'd done the math and found her expendable.
The second Draugr circled behind her.
They weren't rushing. They were savoring.
Grade C monsters against a bleeding F-Grade healer with no mana. They knew how this ended. No need to hurry.
They smelled of turned earth and rotting flowers—mixing with the copper of her own blood, thick enough to taste.
Behind the Draugr, near where the exit had sealed shut, lay the remains.
Three shapes crumpled on the stone, wrapped in vines and white flowers. Three girls she had called friends.
The glint of Aoi's silver hair clip caught the light, still pinned to a clump of hair on a skull split by a white lily still blooming.
Equipment scattered around them. Bags. Weapons.
Blue vials glinting in the dirt.
Mana potions.
We'll take care of Nana.
Rin's voice. Like she was doing Mio a favor. Like her sister was a debt she'd settle.
Mio's fingers curled against the stone. Nails cracking.
No. You don't get to touch her.
[Time Remaining: 0:52]
The third Draugr lunged from her blind spot. Low and quick.
She saw it too late—tried to twist away, almost made it.
Claws caught her shoulder instead of her throat. Tearing instead of killing.
[HP: 6/106]
Six HP. The differential between grades meant even a glancing blow nearly killed her.
Nana makes her own lunch now. She learned because I couldn't get out of bed.
Her sister, eleven years old, standing on a step stool to reach the rice cooker. Packing her own bento because her useless older sister was too busy rotting in a dark room to feed her.
If I die here, she comes home to an empty apartment.
Mio looked toward the remains.
They had potions. Aoi always complained about the weight of her extra blue vials. Rin's leather pouch was still visible near her crumpled armor.
Twenty feet.
She started to crawl.
[Time Remaining: 0:42]
The stone was slick with her own blood.
Every movement screamed through her ribs where Shiori's ice had punched through. A Draugr raked its claws down her back—shallow, teasing. Holding back. Playing.
[HP: 2/106]
It could have gone deeper. Could have severed her spine. Instead it left her alive, bleeding, crawling.
Playing with its food.
She didn't stop. Just dragged herself forward, palms raw and bleeding.
Another one caught her calf. Teeth grinding against bone—but not through it. Not yet.
[HP: 1/106]
One HP. One heartbeat from the end. And they knew it. She could see it in the way they circled—patient, unhurried. They'd bring her to the edge and hold her there until the timer ran out.
She couldn't dodge. Couldn't run. Couldn't do anything but crawl toward the corpses and pray she reached them before the Draugr got bored.
Good. Let them play.
[Time Remaining: 0:34]
She reached the first pile of equipment.
Tore open Rin's supply pouch, fingers clawing leather. Desperate for red.
A health potion. Small. Ruby-bright. She bit the cork out and swallowed it in one go.
Her stomach revolted instantly.
She doubled over, retching. The red liquid came back up mixed with bile and blood. Her body spasmed, rejecting the healing like poison.
Overheal. The passive rejected outside healing entirely. No potions. No items. Only her own broken, inefficient magic—and no mana to cast it.
She searched the pouch again, hands frantic.
There. Blue vials. Three of them—Rin always carried extra as a tank.
[Time Remaining: 0:28]
She bit the cork out of the first one, nearly breaking a tooth. The liquid was bitter—like chewing pennies and aspirin. It settled in her stomach like cold oil.
[MP: 13 → 45]
Her hand came up. Point. Channel.
[Casting: Mend]
[Self-Healing Penalty: 50%]
[HP: 1 → 23/106]
[MP: 45 → 13]
Warmth flooded through her. The worst of the wounds knit shut, tissue pulling together.
But the number was wrong.
Twenty-two. She'd healed Rin for forty-five every time before. Same spell. Same cost.
The spell cut itself in half when she pointed it at herself.
Of course. Of course it does.
A Draugr hit her from behind, full force. Done playing. She went face-first into the dirt beneath Aoi's remains.
Tasted earth and rotting petals.
[HP: 2/106]
Back to the edge. One hit from nothing. The Grade difference meant even her heals barely kept pace.
Get up.
She pushed herself onto her elbows.
Get up, Mio. Nana's waiting.
Bite. Drink. Cast.
[HP: 2 → 24/106]
A Draugr's jaws closed on her hand. She heard the bones snap.
[HP: 6/106]
Bite. Drink. Cast.
[HP: 6 → 28/106]
[Time Remaining: 0:20]
She scrambled toward Shiori's body. Two more vials in the jacket pocket—she'd seen the glint.
You called me dead weight.
Bite. Drink. Cast.
[Time Remaining: 0:15]
You left me to die.
Bite. Drink. Cast.
But I'm still here.
Five potions. Five casts. The channels in her arms burned with each one—fraying, screaming. A system designed for two casts a day, forced through five in under a minute.
[HP: 42/106]
[MP: 13]
The veins in her wrists had turned dark, visible through the skin like cracks in cement.
She reached for another vial. Found nothing. Tore through Shiori's jacket. Through Aoi's pockets.
Empty. Five vials. That was all they'd carried.
No more blue. A sea of red vials her body would only vomit back up.
[Time Remaining: 0:12]
The Draugr knew. The circling tightened. No more playing.
The big one stepped forward—twice the size of the others, ribcage wrapped in vines thick as rope, fungal growths blooming from its skull like a crown.
It had been waiting.
[Time Remaining: 0:08]
A smaller Draugr tore into her leg. The muscle separated with a wet sound.
[HP: 20/106]
She tried to cast. Fingers splayed toward the wound.
[Casting: Mend]
[FAILED: Insufficient MP]
Nothing. The channels were empty. Burned out.
The big Draugr lunged.
She tried to roll. Her body was lead.
Its claws caught the wound in her chest. Widened it. Slow. Surgical. It could have killed her three times over—ribs exposed, organs a single swipe away—but it held back. Kept her breathing. Kept her feeling.
[HP: 8/106]
[Time Remaining: 0:05]
I'm sorry, Nana. I took too long.
A smaller Draugr clamped onto her arm. Dragged her flat against the stone.
[HP: 2/106]
The big one stood over her.
Its breath was a cold, damp fog that smelled like a compost heap. It lowered its skull, jaws opening wide enough to take her head in a single bite.
[Time Remaining: 0:03]
The world grayed at the edges. She saw the teeth. She saw the pulsing green core beyond the monster.
Nana.
[Time Remaining: 0:02]
The jaws descended.
[Time Remaining: 0:01]
Teeth closed around her throat—
Loss or profit.
Dead weight.
We'll take care of Nana.
No.
Something shifted. Not in the room. In her.
She grabbed the jaw. Both hands. Fingers sinking into rotting gums.
I am not dying here.
"Come on," she whispered through blood and broken teeth.
"Come on you fucker."