The Tales of the Legendary Mimic : Momo

Healing and Running I

After the wasp fled from the battle, Lorne quickly attended to Max's injuries. The buzzing faded into the distance, replaced by a heavy silence broken only by Max’s ragged breathing and the faint crackle of distant fires.

Despite the chaos surrounding them, the smoke hanging in the air, the distant shrieks of mutants echoing through the estate, Lorne’s hands worked with remarkable precision. He knelt beside Max and dug into their worn med-kit, pushing aside empty wrappers and half-used syringes. His fingers closed around a roll of bandages and a small vial of antiseptic, almost down to its last drops.

“Hold still,” Lorne muttered, though his tone was gentler than his words.

Max sat propped against a broken pillar, his shirt torn and darkened with blood around his shoulder and forehead. He watched Lorne through half-lidded eyes, his breath coming in sharp, uneven pulls. The buzzing in his ears hadn’t fully faded, and his skull still throbbed from the wasp’s headbutt.

Lorne pressed a folded cloth against the wound on Max’s head, wiping away the excess blood so he could see what he was working with. The cloth came away crimson.

“Damn,” Lorne hissed under his breath, more at the situation than at Max. “You’re lucky that thing didn’t crack your skull.”

“Feels like it did,” Max mumbled, trying to force a laugh. It came out weak and breathy.

Working quickly, Lorne uncapped the antiseptic and poured a thin line of liquid across the cut. The sting was immediate and vicious.

Max jerked and clenched his teeth, every nerve in his face igniting. His fingers dug into the cracked tiles beneath him. “You trying to kill me?”

“Stop whining. If I wanted you dead, I’d just leave you here, you didnt use my pronoun” Lorne shot back, but there was no real bite in his words.

"Well, sorry, being half dead really corrupts my manners."

hmm', Lorne nodded understandably 

He wrapped the bandage around Max’s head with a steady grip, tightening it just enough to hold but not enough to make Max’s headache worse. His movements were efficient, practiced—not the work of a professional medic, but of someone who had been forced to learn the hard way.

"I was thinking your power had come with healing perks, but it seems to be the opposite. You might need medical attention."Lorne worried

Max just shrugged, beggers couldnt be choosers, he thought.

The adrenaline coursing through their veins made every second feel sharper, louder. They both knew that out here, they didn’t have the luxury of taking their time. One mistake, one delay, and something else could come crawling out of the shadows.

From their dwindling supplies, Lorne dug up a small painkiller tablet and pressed it into Max’s palm, followed by a half-full water bottle.

“Swallow,” Lorne ordered.

Max obeyed, tossing the pill into his mouth and taking a small sip of water. The cool liquid did little to wash away the metallic taste of blood, but it helped enough. He let out a shaky breath and managed to flash a grateful smile at Lorne.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

For a brief moment, his eyes met Lorne’s. Despite the pain, there was a flicker of appreciation there—gratitude not just for the bandages and the medicine, but for Lorne’s unwavering presence. Lorne didn’t say anything in response, but he nodded once, as if to say: Don’t mention it.

Just as they were catching their breath, a cacophony erupted outside.

It started as a low rumble, then grew into a chorus of inhuman cries—guttural roars, shrill screeches, and the bone-deep thrum of wings. The unmistakable sound of mutant creatures approaching rolled through the broken corridors and open courtyards of the estate like a storm.

A shiver crawled down both their spines.

They shared a look—no words needed. That sound was a chilling reminder of the dangers lurking just beyond the crumbling walls. Whatever brief window of safety they’d earned was slamming shut.

"Is something coming...?" Max stammered in fear