FSE

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I don't remember the mission actually ending. Last thing I remember is just watching the smoldering flames of the destroyed truck cradled in Hammer's arms and the next thing I remember is waking up in my bed. I'm no longer wearing the bloody clothes which is a good thing since I would hate to wake up in a bed that's soiled by blood. My Spell Book is also on the table nearby but it isn't positioned in a way that I would have put it myself. All this implies that I must have fallen asleep at the mission, and put me to bed after going through the process of undressing me and putting me in one of my nightshirts. That would and probably should bother me much more than it does but as I rub my hands down my chest to feel my stomach and the knotting of hunger in there I feel the fur and more importantly the lumps on my chest.

Those things were gone. I was almost human again. And now I have to start the whole process all over. I take a moment to just stare at the ceiling for a moment, my hand just resting on my stomach as I try and will myself to have to go through the entire process of trying to get back to where I was again. And it wasn't even my life that was in danger. Now I do not regret my decision one bit. Inwardly I know it was the right decision and me having to deal with three more days before I can retain the same level of humanity is far less important than the act of saving someone's life. Knowing they won't just let me stay here all day and how it'll probably end up somehow counting as a means of acceptance if I choose to just lie here I pull off my covers and swing out of bed.

My legs are furry again and bent in all the wrong ways. And to make matters somewhat worse I think that my transformation might have destroyed my underwear. Not entirely sure why but I'm not currently wearing any. I suppose it might have gotten stained quite a bit with the blood after it had seeped through my torn pants. Not so much complaining about the loss of the garment itself but the fact I wouldn't have gone to bed myself without any. Which further alludes to the notion that when I was passed out and helpless someone or possibly multiple people took me to my room, stripped me completely naked and then put on a night shirt and put me to bed. It's again not so much the garments themselves as how easily it would have been for them to have taken advantage of me. I pull off the night shirt and knowing that I don't exactly have any alternative outfits for my released state just yet I put on some underwear and then put on the dress. It will simply have to do. At least now as opposed to last time I was this far progressed I am at least given that luxury. I grab one of the brushes and try to make due as best I can with my hair.

Apparently transforming also makes my hair much longer. After thinking of it a moment I decide that it simply is far too much a bother to have to brush the thing and grab a good chunk of it with one hand, charge the other with fire magic and act out cutting my hair with my flaming fist. I'm half worried that I might have to go and put myself out but it seems to go well enough. I look at myself in the mirror and I definitely look the mess but eh, I don't care. I'm not going to groom a body that doesn't look like my own. Once it's gone and behaved and look more human may I actually entertain the notion of grooming myself properly.

I'm half tempted to try and join in on the morning routines if they're still going but even the trip to the door tells me otherwise. I have gone over a full day with no food and almost no water. On top of that I imagine that transforming uses up quite a bit of energy, as does using magic. All in all, if just walking to the door makes me feel a little weak in the knees, trying to take this body into a long jog would probably cause it to collapse completely. So that means my first stop will have to be the cafeteria again.

I open my door and look out, thankfully finding no one there but the feel of the place is different than what I'd expect of the morning. It doesn't smell like morning so much as midday. It is an extremely odd thing to sense such things but then again with a nose as humongous as this one, being able to tell distinct faint traces of food for breakfast as opposed to food for lunch is fairly easy. Was I really out for that long? I make my way to the cafeteria and find that I am correct in the matter as most people seem to be starting to settle in for lunch. The moment I step through the entrance to the cafeteria the entire room seems to quickly die down to an absolute silence. I half wonder what would be my response to people seeing me after what I had done; what I would do if they all started cheering me or something. But with a small bit of relief they do not. Hammer sees me and quickly makes his way over to me.

"So, you're finally awake, I see. I guess you really wore yourself out because you're the last of them to wake up," he states cheerfully as if nothing at all had happened. Of course, odds are he is built enough and was in the position to be the one that probably put me in my room last night. Not entire sure how I feel about that.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up. Can I eat now? I'm starving," I complain. "Will they let me get a double helping if I asked?"

"No double helpings for you, that's an order," Hammer states in a serious manner which somewhat shocks me. Most of the rest of the cafeteria seems mostly quiet save for soft whispers I can still pick up with my overly large ears. I mentally try to tune them out, not because I don't want to hear what they're saying but because I know being able to hear it is inherently wrong. "You've exhausted yourself," he waves at the imp to go and get one serving of food for me. "I know you must think you could eat a whole pig or something but let me let you in on something. Your appetite is affected by the animal in you. That intense need to gorge oneself to make up for lost calories. But your stomach is still human sized. If you eat as much or as quick as your body wants you to you'll only make yourself sick and throw it up. Think of this as an ordeal or challenge you'll have to go through. Take your food and make sure you eat it slowly. I'll see you in the combat training room in an hour, understood?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure thing," I comment, grabbing the tray of food that has come my way.

I take a seat at a table by myself, really wanting to be left alone for the moment, especially when food is involved. It might be because I am starving but a part of me feels extremely protective towards my own food. I hope it's not a result of the form my body is currently in. Unfortunately to make matters worse for my apparently new drooling problem a large majority of the food in front of me is meat based. There are still a few vegetables here and there, carrots and celery especially but predominantly meat. But I suppose in some regards this is to be expected. My first meal was mainly meat as well. Add to that right now my body probably needs primarily protein and you have a situation where meat is one of the best things I should have at the moment.

I take up a fork, resisting the urge to just grab handfuls and stuff my face with it and take a small bite, having to will myself to repeat the notion that I need to master my body. I will not let this body dictate what I do. It will obey what I want it to do and above all else I refuse to allow it to feel any sense of comfort or contentedness in this wrong body. Even still there are a couple of times when I have to force myself to slow down, done most easily by putting the fork down completely and taking a sip or two of water. Thankfully people seem to be giving me plenty of room. I'm not sure what all it means that they are but it is appreciated. Even more appreciated is the notion that I don't have anyone trying to hit on me again right now.

About when I'm just about done with my lunch I see a figure walk in to the cafeteria, and this time the entire room, or rather what's left of it since most have already finished and left, begin to clap. The person in question is the one whose life I saved. He smiles sheepishly at the crowd before seeing me. He turns directly towards me and bows as deeply as he is able before standing up and goes to get his own food. I bow my own head in response, but more as an affirmation of his act than anything. Once he gets his food he walks over to me and bows a second time, but not as low since that would end up spilling his food.

"I would like to thank you, Rose, from the bottom of my heart. I'm told that because of your sacrifice and efforts I am able to see the sun and breathe another day. You will never know how grateful I am. Thank you," he states and then goes back to his friends joking at him.

I'm half tempted to try and make a snide remark about him repaying me by not having me have to do that again but decide otherwise. He's been through enough after all. On top of that I never did quite yet determine that he would have been without any sensation at the time. It is quite possible he was fully conscious and aware the entire night, of feeling everything that was going on with him, including all the work I was doing and yet could not express himself in any way. In that regard it must have been something he would never forget and probably would even haunt him from this day. And not just from the wound itself but from the agony of someone digging a hand into their chest and playing around with their organs in the process of fixing them. A sort of torture that you'd have no means to act out or respond to, even if some part of you knows that this is being done for their sake.

Though I guess in some regards the attitude of the people here makes sense. Given the situation that we all share, someone who has faced death and managed to somehow come out of it on top deserves to be congratulated. For if nothing else, congratulating them gives themselves hope that they too could potentially pull off a similar feat. To be the one that save them, however. Well I'm sure I've probably gained quite a bit of respect from a lot of people here, if nothing else from the people laughing at the table, joking with their squad mate about how lucky they were. Still, even though I know it was for the best. It still feels like it is better to never get into that situation than to try and fix it. It drained six people almost dry to save one. If we could have prevented that blow from coming it would not have drained a single person.

I simply still have a ways to go, though as I head towards combat training, I find my mind wandering. Am I a sort of prodigy or something? The host of that talk show seemed to imply that I managed to find an improvement to a spell no one else even thought of. Or perhaps it has been thought of and they were merely poking fun at me. Course there is another option. It is common knowledge, just not among the common populace. If a society is based on who is strongest, teaching inferior spells to the general public would be to the advantage of those in power. But still, it is an interesting thought. In combat training, I'm about what I'd expect. I still am not strong enough to really be able to overpower anyone. I'm fast and agile but extremely inexperienced, making it too easy to track where I'm going.

On top of that I'm rather distracted the entire time. It just seems odd about the portal system and how things are going. If you have the portal system then why not invade? And if there exist means as that drug that knocked me out or that paralysis thing that took him out, what wouldn't they just use these and take us out very easily? Why give us the ability to fight back unless it somehow benefited them in some way. Well I'd like to think I still do better than I did the last time I was here though it is hard to tell. Either way as I leave combat training and start using the heal bruise spell I can't exactly say the end result feels any better. I'm probably just better off going the magic route, make it so that I never have to fight close quarters. Jack seems to be handling it just fine, though I don't know how unfair it would be to have two fifths of our squadron never enter the actual fight. It would put those other three at a huge disadvantage. On my way back to my room I spot Gabriel, who almost seems to have been waiting for me.

"In case you were wondering, I took care of your problem," he states in a matter-of-fact way that's oddly more direct than I'm used to coming from him.

"What problem?" I ask.

"I just came from the other side. I had business to attend to there. The problem you had to deal with yesterday has been addressed and handled in the proper manner," he states, somewhat cryptically but at the same time I know exactly what it is he's talking about.

He's here to keep the peace. Someone broke the peace by hitting me with that drug. If someone did a sucker punch or some weak attack easily healed I imagine there'd be no result of it. After all I was warned that that is how that culture operates. But to use a drug to take someone down must be crossing a line, even for them. So, he's basically telling me that he went to the other side of the portal, over to their world and either beat up or killed the person responsible for drugging me. Which I guess is at least a somewhat considerate gesture. Though I guess while he's here.

"Thank you, I guess?" I comment, now knowing what to say when all but says they just potentially killed someone for a non-fatal act against me. "Though while you're here. I have to ask you. There's been something on my mind a lot lately and I wonder if you know why it is that they have never."

That's as far as I get in my question as Gabriel moves forward at an incredibly impressive speed and chops me in the head with the side of his fist. The moment the fist makes contact something odd happens. Time seems to slow down to a stop. My body seems to be completely unresponsive.

"I know what it is that you want to ask but that is one of those subjects that must never be asked out loud," he states though I cannot see his mouth moving. It's like he's speaking to me telepathically through the contact of his fist driving into my skull. It is at least an odd ability.

"But it's a reality show as well right? At least to them?" I ask, pressing another issue, finding the words not coming out of my mouth though I can still hear them. "Well how long can they run a reality show without doing anything to the routine. Shouldn't they eventually decide to shake things up with a twist or two?"

"Well that is another extremely good question that I would be extremely wary of saying out loud. Yes, our next mission is usually done as a twist. You'll find out about it soon enough. As for the lack of invasion. Let's just say that there are good reasons why they don't just do so. Or rather, there's a very good reason why they haven't just invaded this time. And that's the fact that the last few times they've tried to invade it hasn't quite worked out well for them. They've tried to invade and take over land from this world again and again. Each time they've been repelled. The main purpose I'm guessing to their whole front of this reality show situation is only partially what they say. They probably do have a lot of prisoners they want to get rid of. Doing that would free up more money, as would the money gained from the show. So, the money angle is also probably very much true. But their real ulterior motive probably lies in trying to study the thing that keeps turning them back, finding a way to beat back that which as defeated them time and time again. Outwardly their culture has changed, but their fighting ability really hasn't. When you have something that works very well in every single case but one you don't really put much effort into learning new things that quickly. Anyway, that's all I'm at liberty to say and all the time I have to say it. Be careful about what you say, they may use that against you and I apologize for the pain this is about to cause you, but it's the only way to make this work."