The Lost (30k Primarch Quest)

XXVII. Of Flesh and Spirit

The monks insist on, at least, a medical examination. You sit as the monk in white looks over the skin that remains blackened and ruined. Your flesh heals slowly, but it heals. You don't remember ever being injured this badly, and you know instinctively you'll recover, but it will take time.

The monk fussing over you is mumbling much the same to himself, but with baffled bewilderment. "-shouldn't even exist, let alone be intact! I mean, we're all glad you're alive," he says as he runs the scanner in his hand over yet another burned section of skin, "but this level of recovery after a melta blast at point-blank range isn't supposed to be possible."

You shrug. "I told you doc, this'll take a couple weeks to recover from at most. Faster if I get myself into a fight or two."

Part of you feels relief. You'd wondered on occasion if you could take any kind of serious hit. And this one, it seems, has hurt you considerably. It's not exactly a good thing, but at least you know now. You'll have to repay the knights the favor in the future.

Maia still looks pale and sickly, but she's clearly recovering. Whatever the monks are doing seems to be helping. She smirks from her medical bed, arms behind her head. "Did I hear that right, boss? A meltagun shot to the face? What, gonna say it bounced off of your hat?"

"It blew up my hat."

Maia looks at you long enough to determine you're not joking. "Ah. Sorry, boss."

"The monks say they'll get me another one." You pout. "It better have a feather."

"Maybe it'll make a force field." She grins. "And play battle music!"

You chuckle, your frown fading. "I don't care what it does so long as it's big and fancy."

She crosses her legs, turning her gaze away from you. "… So, where's Han?"

"Right now? Looking out, trying to see any of the Knights that might come back."

She looks relieved of all things. "Ah. Dunno what I was expecting."

"You'll be pissed to know I had to basically drag him away from your bedside kicking and screaming."

"Ah… yeah, that sounds like him, the idiot. He didn't need to worry…" She muses, unable to hide the blush or smile from her face, even as sickened as she is.

"Yeah. Did a good job once I got him onto the wall, though. Gave me fire support on the retreat with his new rifle."

"He finished it? Nice."

"He wanted to call it the Say My Name."

Maia turns her face back to the ceiling, considering it a moment. "… I like it."

"You would."

"Yeah, cuz I'm always right." She grins and flexes her arm, making her tattoo twist and undulate in a strange dance.

You snort but don't argue. "Good to see you're feeling better."

She starts to laugh before she suddenly coughs.

"Urgh… hurts to laugh…"

"You… are doing better, right?"

She grins, though it's shaky. "Ah you know me boss, I'll be on my feet soon and Hand I will be makin' up for lost time before you can say 'stop bangin' on my desk'."

You frown, ignoring that it technically would've been Caihong's desk.

She's lying to you. She's putting on a brave face, but she's wavering.

"You've got some of the best medical tech this side of the sea of stars," you say. "You'll make it."

She turns further away. "'Course I will, boss."

You almost press the issue, but you feel yourself drifting off into sleep. Between all the lighting you threw, the physical exertion in combat, and now the recovery period, you feel exhausted for perhaps the first time in your life.

Perhaps you should…

-

You're on the idyllic beach again, with the sea churning and broiling in the distance. The bone-white sands, once warm and inviting, now burn and sting against your injured flesh.

The orange-haired mermaid from your last time here lays next to you, pressing a wet rag to your wounds. It stings in the way disinfectant should, and you see her brighten as you take notice of her.

"Hi honey," she purrs, wiggling closer to you. "It's been a little while."

Your arms are heavy, and while in the living world your flesh is cracked and burned, it at least had begun to heal. Here it looks more like when you first awoke after the melta shot: blackened and crusted, like a burned steak. Smells like one too; disgustingly appetizing.

"… Delai," you say, not quite rejecting her but not quite greeting her either. As she pulls the wet rag back from your wounds, you notice that the flesh is healing beneath her touch, your skin going from the burned of an old steak to the deep red of a bad sunburn.

"My master is pleased by what you did to the cult of the drowned." She smiles. "He wanted to meet with you personally, but his attention is pulled in many ways. He hopes you understand."

"Of course," You say evasively. You have the distinct impression that you just dodged a bullet the size of a Knight, though you can't lay a finger on precisely why.

She boops your nose, giggling. "And I'm personally overjoyed that you turned them into your own personal followers."

You frown. "You didn't want them dead?"

"Oh dead would've been fine, but…" She giggles with delight. "There's nothing more satisfying than turning your enemy's strength into yours, is there? … Well. Almost nothing." She winks.

You shake your head. "Look, is there a reason for your visit?"

She frowns, and for the first time you see disappointment in her eyes, and it stings your soul. "You nearly got yourself killed twice over. Your body's destroyed and your soul's in tatters. Don't look at the ocean."

At the same moment she says that, you realize that the foaming, roiling waves don't sound right. They sound… almost like voices. You can't quite hear the words, but they're foaming and snarling. And now that you think about it, the two of you are further up on the sands than you were last time.

"I'm here because you need me," she continues, pressing the rag to your forehead this time, "whether you know it or not. And I'm going to do what I can to piece these tatters you've made of yourself back together."

"What, so what I decide doesn't matter?"

"Of course it does. More than you know, sweety," she says, smirking as if at a private joke.

"And if I decide you're a vapid watery whore in need of sundrying?"

"Oh sweety…" She smiles, and cups your face with the wet rag. "I don't care if you hate me. I will always be here for you."

She leans close, presses her hand to your bare chest, and whispers-

"Because-"

-

You wake in medical with a start.

You pull yourself up, eyes darting around the darkened room. You've been here at least a few hours.

The sound of the roiling, screaming sea takes a moment more to fade.

-

Voting

Delai has reached out to you again, and given you a boon of healing. As far as you can tell, her healing was genuine; there's no taint in its nature. What does she do?

(ETA: just so we're clear: taking this from her does not mean that you're going to be damned to follow Chaos if/when we reach the Heresy. It's merely a question of what she does and whether or not you put up with it.)

[] – Heal your mind

You awaken better rested than you'd planned, and your mind is crystal clear. You feel as ready to go as you did before the start of the fight, and lightning comes to you as readily as ever. However, your body remains burned and cracked, and you won't be able to take on Knights again any time soon.

[] – Heal your body

Your flesh, once cracked and burned, has sealed again. However, your mind remains tired, and the storm will not heed your calls as readily.

[] - Heal Maia

You don't need her help. But your crew might. She will fix whatever's wrong with your crewmate instead.

[] – Fuck that

She healed your wounds, but you tear them back open. You burn your mind back down. That watery whore doesn't get anything from you!

[] – Write in

Suggested by @SpacePaladin
[] – Write in
-[] Tell her to go heal herself.