Chapter Ninety-Four: To Find a Cure

“In cases of mana toxicity in non-sentinels, there are only a couple of causes that come to mind,” Calan says, frowning at the graph on the monitor before us. “By far the largest cause is an overapplication of healing magic to those without sufficient tolerance. Other than that, it’s really only caused by mistakes from inscribers or normal people getting caught up in sentinel abilities. I would say this was caused by the Dawn Cloud if I didn’t know for sure that’s not the case. Now though… I have absolutely no idea.”

Calan, Hina, and I all sit in the highest level of the clinic, looking at the compiled data of the now dozens of examples we’ve found of mana toxicity in the normal population. It’s fairly late in the day now, and a good amount of the normal staff has gone home. There are, however, a good few people here for the night shift. Someone needs to help care for everyone staying overnight, after all. I just never imagined that there would be so many cases that couldn’t be healed. This clinic isn’t built to keep a significant number of patients within its walls, and if things continue the way they’ve gone today, we’ll be out of space in no time.

I rock back in my office chair, which lets out a screech of protest. “I’m as certain as I can be that the Dawn Cloud isn’t the cause. I agree with you that it would make sense with the time and scale, but we’ve found enough evidence to disprove that as the cause. I wish it were the case, honestly. Then I could just make all of this go away and make these people healthy again.”

Hina looks at the data, her eyes narrowed as she runs her finger along the line of the graph on the monitor.

“We must take care not to fall into a fallacy here,” she says, tone considerate. “This spike of cases seems to correlate with the Dawn Cloud, but it could also be said that it correlates with the opening of the clinic. The simple fact is that we are the only ones in Shinara actually caring for normal people with sentinels, and even then, we prioritize other sentinels.”

Calan nods, “You’re right, of course. This could have been going on for months. People get sick and die in Shinara all the time, and there are resource shortages all across the board. What’s strange to me is that the people we are keeping here are isolated from anything that could cause mana toxicity, and yet their toxicity level continues to rise rather than decrease.”

For long moments, all of us simply sit and stare at the numbers on the screen. So far, less than one percent of the people we’ve treated have been suffering from this issue. However, if even a fraction of that percent can be extrapolated to the city as a whole… There could be thousands out there suffering from this. Unless we can find them and administer some kind of cure, the death toll could be catastrophic.

I stand abruptly, my chair rolling away behind me. “I’m going to go check on the patients.”

Hina and Calan stand as well, Hina moving to my side. She’s been right with me working on this issue all day, and neither of us has any inclination to stop trying to find a solution any time soon.

“I have to go check on my patients as well,” Calan says with a weary sigh. “This is the first time I’ve left GDF Headquarters in… weeks? Once I get back, I’ll put out word to the wider GDF and Sanctum Collective. See if anyone else is dealing with this issue or if they have other ideas.”

I offer a smile of my own and briefly touch Calan’s arm. “Thanks for your help. Keep up the good work.”

Calan nods briefly and starts to walk away. After a second, though, he turns back to me as if remembering something.

“Serena,” he says, voice quiet. “I just wanted to say that… I’m sorry about what I said to you before. You did the impossible and I… I couldn’t be more thankful for your work here. I know that A Ranker who’s been helping you is still finishing up the standardized process, but the number of sentinels who ask me about getting their friends revived increases every day. You’re doing a really good thing.”

My smile turns a touch more genuine. “I… I think so as well. It feels good… to help people, I mean. We have all this power, and so many of us only use it for fighting. I think I like doing this instead.”

Calan huffs out a breath and shakes his head. “You’re far too young to have lived through so much suffering. At your age, I was still going to school while splitting my sentinel work. I wonder if things will ever calm down enough to get back to that.”

“Not for a long time,” Hina adds, but her voice is quietly optimistic. “But we will survive. Next year will come, and the year after that, and the next one still. No matter how we feel now, we will still be here when they arrive.”

“It’s our job to make sure that as many as possible are still here with us when those years arrive,” I finish.

After a few more niceties, Calan heads up to the transport landing pad on the roof for a ride back to GDF Headquarters. Together, Hina and I make our way back to the stairwell — the elevators are often too busy — to see our patients again.

“I miss Kaipo,” Hina says, her blue eyes down as she descends the stairs ahead of me. “He might not know what to do, but… he’d always greet the challenge with a smile.”

I smile softly, old memories playing in my mind of meeting the kind islander for the first time. “Once we bring him back, we’ll recruit him to help us in the clinic. Once we’re in full swing, Calan will have plenty of other blue sentinels to help him.”

Hina pauses, then turns to look up at me with the first truly happy smile I think I’ve ever seen on her. “I didn’t even think of that. I’m so used to the idea that he’s just… gone.”

We start back down the stairs.

“This is a time of hope, Serena,” Hina says as we reach the base of the stairwell. “Soon, every day that passes will return another friend to us. When we see those distant years… Kaipo and so many others will be standing right beside us.”

***

It’s almost midnight when I slip down into the below ground-levels of the clinic, highly trained and heavily equipped guards nodding respectfully to me as I move past them. The underground area of the clinic is the only part of this place where I do not hold complete control. Not that I don’t have significant influence and can get most of what I want done, but the A Rank Council are the ones who truly control this place. I just oversee it.

Unlike above, where everything is made of glass, pleasant colors, and a light atmosphere, the underground section of the clinic is hard and militaristic. Doors are steel and blast-resistant, and this entire place is brimming with so many defense systems — both magical and otherwise — that even an A Ranker would take pause when breaking in.

The first level of the underground complex is only accessible through the elevator if you have specific clearance. The rest of the complex requires travel through a completely separate elevator and stairwell, and so many security checkpoints that even a conspiracy theorist would think it was overkill. However, all of it is to protect one of the most vital and most hidden parts of the GDF. Enough so that even Hina has never been below the first floor.

I’m headed to the deep level of the clinic, the space where sentinel revivals will take place. And an area that, if the Volcora discover its existence, will make this place the target of endless attacks. Ideally, they will never even learn that sentinel revival is possible, lest they start going for our soul gems after we die. However, their knowing where revivals take place could be equally detrimental. The more they learn about the process, the more they can come up with countermeasures to make revival impossible.

After passing more guards than I can count, having my mana verified by an inscription, and just generally going through the whole security process, I step out in the reinforced area of the lowest level.

This space consists of several large rooms, only two of which are actively being used for anything. One for the permanent inscription for connection enhancement, and the other for providing enough healing energy to be channeled through that connection for the revival process.

As with the defensive inscriptions on the walls, these massive diagrams glow green from mana provided by their power source, green roots allowed to shove through the walls here and there. With her frankly absurd ability to use and channel mana, a deal was reached with Florina to act as a distant magical power source for the clinic. Another perk of placing this revival station within the clinic.

And the craziest part of all of this? The underground complex is still being expanded at an incredible rate. With the use of magically enhanced tools earned by workers, and sentinels with earth-related powers, massive amounts of material under the harbor and even the ocean are being magicked away and massively reinforced. After all, while other Daybreak Clinics might be opened around the world with their own sentinel revival setups, this place is looking to become the largest base of operations for sentinel revival in the world.

Sadly, Felix and I still have many obstacles to overcome before this can truly become what we want it to be. Right now, revival can only be accomplished by following our three core steps. Contacting the fallen sentinel within their gem with the help of Florina, empowering a living sentinel’s connection with the fallen to allow sufficient power to flow through, and finally channeling enough power through that living sentinel to allow a revival to occur. In short, it’s hardly gem in, sentinel out. We don’t even know if the process will have a perfect success rate either. It’s fully possible that either the gem could be destroyed or the living sentinel killed — as almost happened to me. We’ve done it once, but… as confident as we pretend to be, there’s still a lot that can go wrong.

However, while I’ve been busy figuring out the logistics with the topside front the Daybreak Wharf Clinic will show the world, Felix has been hard at work making some of those little problems go away. It’s time for me to take a peek at his work and see if there’s anything I can do to help him. Also, he might have some ideas on our problems topside.

As per usual, the vulpine sentinel is at work in one of the two rooms. As I step inside, I see Felix on his hands and knees on top of a hopelessly complex web of inscriptions. I understand the basics of inscriptions, but what’s going on here is so far beyond me it might as well be Greek. There’s still so much to learn…

Careful to keep from stepping on the linework set up in the otherwise empty room, I call out to the A Ranker.

“I brought you a sandwich if you’re hungry,” I say, his plate materializing in my hand in a swirl of mist.

I’ve tried creating food directly using my new point of power abilities to manifest objects, but sadly, anything I create takes a small amount of focus to maintain. Otherwise, it just vanishes. The second I stop thinking about the food, it disappears — leaving me hungry again.

Luckily, this particular sandwich is from a small shop nearby run by a couple of locals. They’ve already grown used to me sending Celeste to buy from them when I was getting everything ready for opening day, but I’m told that they were quite shocked to find my familiar appearing out of nowhere and asking what on the menu was good.

Felix glances up at my words, his nose twitching slightly as the wonderful smell reaches him. He coughs lightly into his fist and stands. “Um — Yes, I could take a break.”

***

“So, we can remove Florina from the process, but we can’t get rid of the other sentinel?” I ask Felix as I make my way through a sandwich of my own.

The vulpine sentinel nods, already starting in on a fourth sandwich that he produced from seemingly nowhere. I guess his familiar found the sandwich shop too, allowing Felix to consume them at a prodigious rate. Honestly, I’d think he hasn’t eaten all day.

“Unfortunately, I’ve been unable to find a way to create a new connection with a fallen sentinel. We can strengthen an existing connection, but only so far. For any revival to succeed, the fallen will need to have a close friend, a lover, even a greatest enemy. They need someone with a strong enough connection to them.”

I bite my lip, considering. “And the person with that connection still absolutely has to be another sentinel?”

“From my calculations, the process should succeed if the living sentinel is at least D Rank. I don’t believe it’s possible for anyone of a lower rank or not of sentinel status to perform a revival. The mana toxicity would just kill them and perhaps destroy the soul gem as well. I’m just happy that we can now avoid sending every sentinel pair we help on a field trip to a tree. I have managed to replicate the point of power's functions using inscriptions powered by her instead. Without the existing karmic connection, though, we are back to square one with sentinel revival. For now, it seems a required part of the process.”

The mention of mana toxicity causes my thoughts to pop back to my problem above. Hopefully someone like Felix might have some insight, because if he doesn’t… Well, other than hoping Calan finds something in his research, we might be out of luck to help these people.

While Felix continues to relax and take his break, I briefly explain the problem and the new patients above to him. And, despite his normally dismissive attitude, I can see that he isn’t unsympathetic. However, sympathy doesn’t necessarily mean he’s going to help. He may be a blue sentinel, but he sees the world across a very wide scope, and his work here will indirectly save so many more than just the revived sentinels.

Felix sips from a small water glass, washing down the absurd amount of food he just consumed as I finish my tale. Swallowing and happily patting his stomach, he looks at me and simply says, “That makes sense.”

With that, Felix stands and starts heading back to the other room to continue his work, leaving me to scramble after him.

“What do you mean that makes sense? Do you know why it's happening?!” I exclaim, hoping that the brilliant A Ranker might at least drop me a hint to work off of.

Felix sighs and pauses. He rests his hand against the door frame as he looks down on me like a student missing something obvious.

“Shinara is the nexus of power for the planet, Serena,” the vulpine sentinel says, his eyes darting back toward the door and his work. “It's why the A Rank Council is committing so many resources to this city. This isn't just about the points of power — although that is a factor. There is simply more mana in the air here than anywhere else in the world. Once we are through this crisis, Shinara will have the best magical defenses and the most powerful magic users in the entire world simply by virtue of the higher mana content. It's why every faction wants to control this place.

I blink, considering his words and trying to come up with something to say before he gets bored and heads back to his work. “But… what of the normal people?” I stammer out.

The A Ranker shrugs, “The world is becoming more magical every day. Those without the tolerance to change with it won't survive. I believe that most of humanity will make it, but we will certainly lose many. Only those with the lowest tolerance are suffering today, but no one has any idea how bad the convergence might be. It could be that only those with the highest tolerance will survive at all. Maybe we sentinels and points of power will be the only humans left on the planet. We hope not, but we just don't know.”

My eyes widen in horror. “Can’t we prevent that? People don’t deserve to die just because they have a low mana toxicity tolerance! That’s a roll of the dice! You or I could have easily been born with extremely low tolerance instead of extremely high.”

Again, Felix just shrugs. As if he’s already pondered these questions and found satisfactory answers for himself. “And yet, we weren’t. Thus, we are the sentinels, and they are the ones who will die as this world transitions to the new. Life has never been fair.”

My fists clench at my sides, “So we’re going to sit on our thrones while they suffer below! This is exactly the kind of problem I wanted to solve by making this clinic!”

Surprisingly, Felix moves forward and gently lays a hand on my shoulder. His face scrunches like he doesn’t like the contact, and yet he does it anyway. I nearly knock his hand away in my anger, but the look on Felix’s face… Suddenly, he doesn’t seem so imperious. He's not a ruler like Althia, who would watch on while those who needed her suffered — happy to abuse some loophole in her stupid rules. No, Felix looks like a man who's seen it all and continues on anyway.

“Listen,” he says, voice almost serene. “You are starting to grow as a blue sentinel now, and you are starting to realize why we are so different than the other colors. Once again, you are faced with a problem that you cannot shoot with your bow. No amount of fighting will stop these people from dying of mana toxicity, but neither of us will rest on our laurels.

Serena… I am an architect,” Felix continues, his eyes sad. “This is what I do. I make places like this. I take great solutions and build upon them until they are fully realized. But solving those problems myself? I tried for years to find a way to revive sentinels, all to no avail. It simply isn’t my specialty.”

He shakes his head, removing his hand. “I will give this problem more thought and will provide all the insight I can. Providing information, filling gaps in knowledge, and helping you connect the dots are all things I can do. But the solution must come from you.”

“So, you think it is possible to help these people then?” I ask, hesitant.

The vulpine sentinel lets out a dark chuckle. “No, not really. Prove me wrong and help them away. Live up to your name, Daybreak Seraph.”

With that, Felix turns and starts to leave.

“Felix!” I call, making him pause, a fuzzy ear cocked.

I smile, briefly wondering why a sentinel so clinical would want something like ears and a tail. Somehow, I don’t think I’ve even come close to understanding this man.

“Thank you,” I tell him, softly. “For everything.”

He nods, back still turned, and leaves to return to his work.