I Choose the Skills Everyone Else Rejects

The recovery vehicle started moving before the medics finished securing Holt.

Nate sat against the rear wall with Milo’s smaller case between his boots. Across from him, a royal officer activated a recording screen while a medic cleaned the blood from Nate’s hands.

"Full name."

"Nate Calder."

"Class?"

"Kinetic Recall. Unlinked."

The officer glanced at the rifle sealed inside an evidence container near the door.

"The man in the relay passage was already on the ground when you fired twice."

"His hand was moving toward his knife."

"And the second shot?"

Nate looked at the blood beneath his nails.

"I wanted to know he wouldn’t get back up."

The officer entered the answer without reacting.

The medic pressed along Nate’s left side.

Pain tightened beneath his ribs.

"Breathe in."

Nate managed half a breath before stopping.

The medic moved his fingers lower, then released him.

"No obvious fracture. We’ll scan you at the -station."

The officer changed files.

"Milo Kern was killed with the same weapon."

Nate’s thumb pressed into the handle of the black case.

"He asked me to do it."

"Why?"

Nate explained the Vein Hound strand, the single stabilizer and the pulse that would have drawn more creatures toward them. He kept his words short. The officer listened without interrupting.

When Nate finished, the medical compartment opened.

Iris stood behind the door. One side of her face had swollen where the technician had struck her.

"The strand had already destroyed most of his circulation," she said. "Moving him would have attracted more Hounds."

The officer looked at her.

"Was there another option?"

"No."

Someone called Iris from inside.

She disappeared behind the door again.

The officer saved the statement.

"Both deaths remain under review. Marshal Holt’s testimony will be required."

Nate looked toward the sealed compartment.

"When she wakes up?"

"If she can provide one."

The vehicle passed over a damaged section of track.

Pain spread through Nate’s ribs, shoulder and knee at the same time.

"Am I under arrest?" he asked.

"No."

"Then what happens now?"

"Processing."

The word sounded harmless.

The sealed rifle and the recording screen made it feel less so.

The recovery station had been built inside an old freight terminal near the eastern boundary.

Holt left the vehicle first.

Six medics moved her onto a suspended platform without disconnecting the brace. Iris followed them, answering questions about Holt’s pulse, the damaged Circuit and the stabilizer used near Coach Eleven.

Nate barely had time to see her before the medical team disappeared through a secured door.

He stood.

His left knee almost folded.

The medic caught his arm and waited until Nate found his balance.

A processing worker attached a grey band around his wrist.

CALDER, NATE

CANDIDATE — UNLINKED

REAR SURVIVOR C11

INVESTIGATIVE HOLD

"Medical screening first," the worker said. "Evidence registration after."

Nate lifted Milo’s case.

"This stays with me."

"For now."

That was enough.

The scan found no fractures or internal bleeding.

Nate sat on an examination bed in temporary clothes that were too small for him. The trousers stopped above his ankles, and the shirt pulled against his shoulders whenever he moved.

The doctor reviewed the results.

"Severe bruising along the ribs. Shoulder strain. Mild wrist sprain. Your knee was already inflamed before the derailment."

"It was improving."

"It isn’t anymore."

She turned the display toward him.

The cut along his cheek needed adhesive strips. His nose was swollen but intact. The impact behind his ear had left bruising, though the scan showed no serious head injury.

The marks around his throat were already darkening.

"You can travel tomorrow. Walking will remain painful."she said.-

She called another medic into the room.

A pale green emblem marked his uniform as a recovery specialist. He placed one hand above Nate’s ribs and the other near his shoulder.

"My Skill accelerates ordinary tissue repair," he said. "It won’t fix fractures, organs or Circuit damage. You don’t have any of those."

"How fast?"

"If you rest, your body will complete roughly two days of healing before morning."

Warmth entered Nate’s side.

It spread beneath the bruising and became a slow, deep pulse. The muscles around his ribs tightened in time with his heartbeat.

Nate gripped the edge of the bed.

The sensation moved through his shoulder, wrist and knee. It did not remove the pain. It made every injured part of his body feel awake.

The specialist stepped back.

"Drink both bottles. Finish whatever food they give you. No training and no heavy circulation tonight."

"I wasn’t planning to."

The man glanced at Nate’s damaged knee..

A support patch went across Nate’s ribs. His wrist was wrapped, and a medic applied a cooling layer around his knee.

A meal arrived soon after.

Nate finished it without speaking.

Another tray replaced it.

"The Skill needs fuel," the doctor said.

He ate that one too.

The evidence desk was nearly empty by the time Nate reached it.

A clerk scanned the larger of Milo’s cases.

"This belongs to a passenger assigned to Coach Nine."

"He paid Milo to carry it."

"We’ll return it."

She scanned the smaller case.

The screen displayed a name.

KERN, MILO

Nate rested one hand on the lid.

"He said his identification was inside."

The clerk opened a narrow administrative compartment. She removed a candidate card, a transport contract and a folded delivery form.

"His personal effects have a registered family address."

"You’ll send everything there?"

"After the investigation releases it."

Nate looked beyond her.

Rows of bags and containers stood behind the desk. Some were damaged. Others carried white casualty tags.

"I want a receipt."

"You aren’t the registered owner."

"I still want one."

The clerk studied him, then printed two documents.

Nate checked the names and reference numbers before letting her take the cases.

The larger one went onto a return cart.

Milo’s disappeared behind the evidence wall.

Nate folded both receipts and placed them inside his borrowed jacket.

It was the only thing left that he could still carry for him.

His phone was returned after sunset.

The screen was cracked near one corner, but it connected to the station network.

Three missed calls appeared from home.

Nate called back.

His mother answered immediately.

"Nate?"

"I’m fine."

"They closed the entire rail line."

"There was a small accident. Some bandits tried to stop the train."

"A small accident?"

"The guards handled it."

He looked at the support patch across his ribs.

"Are you hurt?" she asked.

"A few bruises. They scanned everything."

His father’s voice came through in the background.

"Do we need to come?"

"No. I leave for the academy tomorrow."

"You’re still going?" his mother asked.

"They cleared me to travel."

Silence followed.

Nate could picture them standing together in the kitchen, staring at the phone.

"What about Ethan?" his father asked.

"He was in the protected section. He should already be safe."

That was all Nate knew.

His mother exhaled.

"Call when you arrive."

"I will."

"Video this time."

Nate touched the adhesive strips on his cheek.

"Maybe after the swelling goes down."

"Nate."

"I’m safe."

He heard her take another breath, but she did not press further.

"Tomorrow," she said.

"Tomorrow."

The call ended.

A message waited beneath the missed calls.

ETHAN: Where are you? Answer when this reaches you.

Nate read it once.

He typed:

Alive. I’ll see you at the academy.

The message was sent immediately.

He locked the screen before another one could arrive.

A transport worker led him to the temporary dormitory beside the station.

The room held six metal beds. Three were already occupied by survivors who had fallen asleep in their clothes.

Nate received the last bed beside the wall.

The frame was too short for him. The mattress sank in the middle, and one of the springs shifted when he sat down.

He placed the phone on the floor and slid Milo’s receipts beneath it.

Then Nate switched off the lamp.

In the darkness, the paper was the only proof that Milo Kern had ever reached the station.

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