I Was Reborn as the Apocalypse's Weakest Healer

Chapter 6: The Rot Within

The Commander’s amber eyes, fixed on Lucas, shifted. But it wasn’t Lucas who held his gaze for long. His attention snapped back to the healed operative in the pod, the one who was now sitting up, bewildered but whole. That faint, almost imperceptible smile had vanished from the operative’s lips, replaced by a strange, calculating glint that seemed to linger in his gaze as he watched Lucas twitching and coughing on the floor.

Lucas, however, was lost in his own agonizing inferno. His vision was a blurry mess of white and amber, the System’s warnings screaming in his periphery. He coughed again, a wet, guttural sound, spitting another mouthful of dark blood onto the sterile floor. The sheer cost of his gift was gutting him from the inside out.

[SYSTEM DEBT: 999,999 ESSENCE CREDITS REMAINING.]

[STATUS: CRITICAL (CELLULAR DEGRADATION INITIATED)]

[WARNING: DEBT LIMIT THRESHOLD CROSSED. IMMEDIATE REPAYMENT REQUIRED.]

"Cellular degradation," Lucas wheezed, the words barely a whisper. "It’s… it's happening."

Valentina didn't need him to explain. She saw the amber warning text, now glowing with a sickly, urgent pulse in his periphery. She glanced at the Commander, her jaw tight.

"You got what you wanted," she said, her voice sharp and cold. "Now, we have a deal. We stay. And you find him a place to stabilize, or he dies right here, and you lose your only chance at a full-time healer."

The Commander’s gaze was still on Lucas, a flicker of genuine concern now fighting with his rigid, professional demeanor. "He… he truly bears the full toll," he stated, a strange awe in his voice. "We have never witnessed such an unmitigated transfer. This is… unprecedented."

Suddenly, the healed operative let out a sharp, gurgling gasp. He clutched his own chest, his new, unblemished skin beginning to ripple and contort. The amber glow in his eyes intensified, but it was no longer analytical; it was feral.

"What's wrong with him?" Lucas managed to choke out, pushing himself up on one trembling arm, the image of the man’s distorted face burning itself into his pain-addled mind.

The operative thrashed, his body seizing violently within the pod. The sleek metallic casing groaned under the sudden force. His limbs began to elongate, his fingers stretching into grotesque claws, tearing at the internal restraints. A low growl, inhuman and guttural, ripped from his throat.

"Stand back!" Valentina commanded, her blade already flashing, crackling with violet energy. Her tactical instincts were instantaneous, bypassing any confusion or fear.

The other guards, however, were not so quick. They raised their plasma carbines, but their movements were hesitant, their amber eyes wide with shock. "Commander! It’s… it’s operative Kael! What’s happening?"

Commander Vorn, his face rigid, took a step back. "Contain him! Do not engage with lethal force unless absolutely necessary! Kael, report! What is your status?"

But Kael didn’t respond. With a sickening thwack and a shower of sparks, he burst free from the pod, the reinforced straps snapping like brittle threads. He was taller, gaunter, his uniform shredded, revealing pale, sickly-white skin stretched taut over unnaturally sharp bones. His head snapped from side to side, tracking the movements of the guards, his mouth distended, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth.

"Oh god," Lucas whimpered, scrambling backward, bumping against the cold hatch door. The pain in his chest was a constant, boiling agony, but the sight of Kael's transformation was a fresh wave of terror. This was his doing.

Kael lunged, not at Valentina, but at the closest uninfected guard. The plasma carbine clattered to the floor as Kael’s clawed hand ripped through the guard's armored chest with horrifying ease. A shriek of agony, quickly cut short, echoed through the pristine hallway.

"He's infected," Valentina snarled, her voice like steel. She didn’t wait for orders. Her blade sang as she moved, a violet blur, directly between Kael and the remaining guards. "I told you to stand down, Commander."

"Valentina, wait!" Commander Vorn shouted, but it was too late.

Kael roared, a sound of pure, unadulterated hunger, and lunged at Valentina. She met him head-on, her movements a blur of practiced precision. The energy blade hummed, deflecting his initial, clumsy swipe. Kael’s strength was shocking, fueled by a terrifying, primal fury. His claws ripped at her tactical gear, but she was too fast, too efficient.

"He’s not thinking, Lucas," Valentina muttered, her eyes locked on Kael’s. Her words were for Lucas, a grim lesson in the midst of chaos. "He’s just reacting. There’s nothing left to save."

She ducked under a wild swing, her blade arcing up and across Kael’s midsection. The violet energy seared through flesh and bone, but Kael didn’t fall. He shrieked, a high, piercing sound, stumbling back only a step before launching himself forward again, his movements even more desperate and erratic. His blood, black and viscous, spattered against the white walls.

Lucas watched, horrified, as Valentina engaged the creature he had unintentionally created. The guilt was a cold, bitter taste in his mouth, mixing with the metallic tang of his own blood. He had tried to help, but his "help" had turned a dying man into a monster.

"Valentina, be careful!" Lucas yelled, his voice raw.

"I’m always careful, spark," she replied, her voice strained as she parried another frenzied attack. She spun, her blade coming down in a decisive chop that severed Kael’s arm at the shoulder. The limb fell to the floor, twitching, but Kael barely reacted, still charging, still lunging.

"This is not logical," Commander Vorn muttered, his carbine still lowered, his mind seemingly struggling to process the impossible. "Our diagnostics indicated only plasma burns. No biological contagion."

"The System isn’t a biology textbook, Commander!" Valentina snapped, twisting to avoid Kael’s gnashing teeth. "Lucas didn’t just heal the wound; he forced the system to reconstruct, and it pulled energy from something else within Kael. A latent infection, perhaps, amplified by the essence transfer!"

With a final, brutal move, Valentina thrust her humming blade directly into Kael’s chest, twisting it, and then pulling it out in a shower of black ichor and sizzling tissue. Kael staggered, a wet gasp escaping his ruined throat, and then collapsed, twitching once before going utterly still. The amber glow in his eyes faded, leaving them blank and hollow once more.

The silence that descended was absolute, broken only by Lucas’s ragged breathing and the faint, muffled thudding from the hatch outside. The two remaining guards stood frozen, their weapons still aimed uncertainly, their faces pale beneath their helmets.

Valentina deactivated her blade, the violet hum dying down. She looked at Lucas, her expression grim. "See? I told you your healing was… robust."

Lucas stared at the twitching corpse of Kael, then at the blood on the floor, then at his own trembling, bloodied hands. "I… I did that. I turned him into that thing."

"You did what you had to do," Valentina countered, her voice devoid of judgment, but also of comfort. "His wound was critical. Whatever was dormant in him, whatever caused that transformation… it was likely always there, just waiting for a catalyst. You were the catalyst."

"But… but I bled," Lucas argued, clutching his chest. "I’m in cellular degradation. It said so. Does that mean I’m… I’m infected too? Will I turn into one of those things?" The thought was pure, icy terror.

Valentina knelt beside him, her cold fingers touching his forehead. "No. That’s not how it works. You transfer the physical trauma, the 'debt'. Sometimes, if you’re not careful, or if the recipient is already compromised, you can also transfer the energetic imprint of an infection. That plasma burn probably had a latent strain, something the corporation didn’t detect, that your healing amplified when you forced the essence reconstruction."

"So, I can transfer infection?" Lucas whispered, the full, horrifying implication sinking in. "If I'm not careful? If I don't know what I'm doing?"

"Precisely," Valentina confirmed, her violet eyes intense. "Your healing isn’t just a gift, Lucas. It’s a double-edged sword. You have to be precise, controlled. You have to understand the source of the trauma, not just the symptom. You don’t just move the wound; you move the entire energetic signature. If that signature includes a pathogen, or a mutation, or an unstable code… then you take that too, or you transfer it in the healing process. In Kael's case, you likely forced his underlying mutation to accelerate rapidly."

Commander Vorn finally lowered his weapon, stepping over the crumpled body of the guard Kael had killed. He looked at Valentina, then at Lucas, a new, complex understanding in his amber eyes. "Unprecedented," he repeated, his voice losing some of its robotic cadence. "Operative Kusuma is correct. Our internal diagnostics were calibrated for known biological threats. This… this is a new variable." He paused, looking at Kael’s corpse. "So, he was… already compromised?"

"The corporations play with too much power," Valentina replied, standing up. "They create their own monsters. Sometimes, those monsters come with latent defects. Lucas just helped one of them reach its full potential, by accident." She looked down at Lucas. "You need to learn control, little spark. Fast. Or you’ll be doing more harm than good."

Lucas tried to stand, but his legs were still weak. He felt a profound, chilling guilt. He hadn’t just suffered for his gift; he had inadvertently inflicted something terrible on another. His healing wasn't pure. It was dangerous.

"So, the deal still stands, Commander?" Valentina asked, her voice cutting through Lucas's turmoil. "Sanctuary? Or do you want to test us again?"

Commander Vorn looked around the blood-spattered, pristine hallway. One dead guard, one mutated corpse. The reality of their vulnerability was stark. He looked at Lucas, twitching on the floor, a walking weapon of unpredictable power.

"The deal stands, Operative Kusuma," he said, a sigh escaping him. "But your companion will be isolated and monitored. We will provide medical assistance for his degradation, but only under strict supervision. He is a variable we cannot afford to lose control of." He nodded to his remaining guards. "Secure the area. Begin decontamination protocols. Prepare a medical bay for subject Wijaya."

Just as a measure of relief flickered through Lucas, a new sound cut through the tense quiet. It wasn’t the dull, rhythmic thudding of the horde anymore. This was different. A high-pitched, metallic scratching began to echo from the heavy steel hatch behind them. It was insistent, relentless, and far too precise.

Shhhrrk... shhhrrk...

It sounded like something with razor-sharp claws was deliberately trying to cut through the heavy steel.

Valentina’s head snapped towards the door, her eyes narrowing. Commander Vorn’s amber eyes widened.

"What was that?" Lucas whispered, every hair on his body standing on end. The scratching was unlike anything he’d heard from the infected horde. It was intelligent. Determined.

"That's not the infected," Valentina breathed, her hand going back to her deactivated blade. Her voice was low, laced with a new, dangerous edge. "That's something else. Something… stronger."