Faine was quickly packed into a strange vehicle with seats that faced one another, medics and officers asking her questions about the fire. She found their voices strange, as if they had accents different from her own. Different from Karras.

She stirred the question around like hot soup churning in her mind, waiting for the opportunity where she might be alone to ask it.

Despite the constant efforts to speak with her, Faine never replied. Her strength went to breathing, to the void around them. She focused on the giant oaks turning gold around them, flickers of red inside their clusters sparking like embers. Through the shifting forest, a village began to emerge.

Paths of winding pavement meandered through the hills, all leading toward the valley where a city of stone waited for them. From the cobbled sidewalks to the stories of brick, the only color in the streets came from gorgeous lanterns and ivy.

Faine noticed that between every lamp post was a staff of vines wrapping their way up to a stand of flowers. Some were attached to mailboxes, others were destinations for passage. The sight brought her real peace, a signal for her nervous system to soothe itself as if she'd looked at them every night for years.

Perhaps she did.

The cabin stopped moving rather suddenly in front of a large white building. Red brick trim wrapped around the foot of the building, repeating wherever she could tell another floor began.

A medic gripped her elbow firmly, guiding her out of the vehicle and into the building. Past every hallway and through a corridor, Faine noticed that the questions were fading.

She read the jacket of her assistant, a woman named Scarlett whose short brown hair brushed against her lips every time she turned her head.

Faine listened to the curt directions she gave, sitting on a wide stool in the center of the room and waiting for a physician. A shadow moved in the corner of her vision, reminding her she wasn't alone.

She continued to recite the questions she wanted to ask Karras. If their voices were altered or different, then perhaps they weren't from this town. Some of the Guards who'd come for her appeared particularly relieved as if they'd known her. Perhaps there were multiple rules to this world her mind was still missing.

"Good evening, Miss Reilica," a man in a white coat greeted her, entering the room with a clipboard.

Faine blinked.

Unaware if the name he referred to was her first or last, if Faine truly existed or it too was a figment of her imagination.

His warm smile quickly fell into a look far more pensive and considering. "I was made aware of the severity of some of your injuries," the Doctor began. "However, I'd like to examine you in case there are any problems we can't see."

Faine's body tensed.

More tests.

More experiments.

She swallowed uncomfortably and glanced behind him, eyes lingering on the open door. An escape.

The Doctor sighed, pulling out a small instrument with a flashlight. "Can you please stare at the portrait behind me?" he asked.

Faine obliged him as he gently flashed the light underneath her vision, then slowly over each eye individually.

Occasionally he would murmur to himself about her brain function. His interest lingered on her cranial function and something incredible.

"Tell me," he said. "Is your vision the same in both eyes, Faine?"

She shook her head, reaching up to touch her failing side. Mostly clear, save for the gray and black vision with black edges. Her eye had retained some of the heat from the flames, still burning when she adjusted.

"Does this one hurt?"

Faine blinked a few more times. No matter how much her lips protested, she sighed. "I wouldn't call it pain... It stings."

"What do you see?"

"Everything is gray," she whispered. "Then it fades to nothing. It just disappears..."

He frowned. "My name is Dr. Siveen, I've been assigned to look after any survivors found in the Crimion Compound."

"Okay..."

"It would seem you've developed Achromatopsia during the incident," Dr. Siveen continued. "Extreme trauma to the cone of your eye has caused a reaction, limiting your vision. It's amazing that you can see at all."

Her vision was the least of her trouble. Aches and pains had ravaged her body and Faine was struggling to concentrate. The surface of her skin had already begun to peel and the blisters covering her waist and legs were torn. She'd gladly trade her vision if only the pain would stop.

As if he'd read her mind, Dr. Siveen had turned his back to her, rummaging through one of the drawers.

When he pulled out a syringe the length of her finger, Faine shot up. The force threw the stool back, sliding across the floor as she backed away.

"No, no," she snapped. "You will not touch me with that!"

The doctor, stunned and confused, tucked the syringe back into the drawer and held up his hands. A security officer peeked into the room to check on the noise.

"It is the fastest way to ease the pain," he said.

Faine shook her head. "Anything but that."

Dr. Siveen stepped out of the room for a moment before coming back in with one of the Guardian's she'd seen earlier.

"I have a nurse fetching a topical replacement, but in the meantime this gentleman has a few questions for you."

She'd spoken enough, her chair discarded behind her. Faine felt the panic stirring again, her arms wrapping around her waist.

The Guardian seemed nice enough, even though his eyes appeared too big for his face and she still couldn't see past his nose. Still, she found herself turning away.

"I don't think I'm of much use to you," Faine murmured.

"What can you tell me about how the fire started?"

Faine frowned. "Nothing..."

The Guardian hummed to himself, writing something down before continuing. "Do you remember how you were detained?"

She shook her head again.

"How about while you were there, do you remember the facility at all? What was done to you?"

Her nails dug into her palms, scraping at callouses. "The slab... A dungeon underneath the building... Needles and scalpels... Then the fire..."

"Faine," the Doctor interrupted. "They need more details if we hope to find any other survivors."

"If there is any hope of catching who did this to you, we need–"

Her whole body shuddered as she met his critical gaze, hands fisting up any extra fabric they could reach. A tear streaked down her cheek, the first of many as Faine swallowed back bile.

"I barely remember my name..." she said, her voice breaking. "All I have is my name..."

The room fell silent.

More tears escaped, her lips sealing together as she cried. Their voices blurred together, hiding beneath the heightened ringing in her ears. Faine didn't notice when the nurse came in with ointment and couldn't feel anything as her arms were taken and slowly massaged with relief.

Dr. Siveen and the Guardian left as the nurse sat her on the stool once again, tending to Faine's neck and face. She worked methodically, past the emotions pouring out of her.

They discussed briefly in the hall before departing completely.

She couldn't care about what.

There was nothing and no one who could understand her.

Perhaps she didn't want them to.

Faine closed her eyes and appreciated the silence between her and the Nurse. Through the shadows and into the night. Her mind finally stopped spinning when Scarlett finished rubbing her legs, gesturing for Faine to follow her.

She'd taken her to an inpatient room with a bed and privacy, softly explaining how someone might find her real clothes in the morning.

Faine saw the bed and nearly crumpled with relief, but found herself oddly uncomfortable in such amenities.

When Scarlett left her alone and shut the door behind her, Faine found herself exploring the bathroom and the dressers. A lengthy window spanned the wall beside her bed which she quickly covered. 

There was a bedside table with a lamp, a clock on the other side.

A makeshift home.

She couldn't help but think she'd sooner expire than spend more than one night in here.

But one would do.

There was no sign of Karras in the darkness, but her exhaustion skewed her surroundings. Without further thought, Faine curled up on the bed and pulled the sheets high over her head.

Hoping only nothingness awaited her.