CHAPTER 32: TRAUMATIZED

As Serin was gazing at the sky, a man in a white coat approached her from behind.

"Ma’am..."

She immediately turned around and cast a paralyzing magic on the man.

"Ma’am...I’m not your enemy...do you remember me? We were the one that helped you treat your wounds..." he groaned as he tried explaining to her the situation.

"What..." Serin’s gaze drifted as she remembered that she was being treated for her injuries along with the other survivors. What he was saying was true, but her minds were all jumbled up and it didn’t make sense.

One of the soldiers nearby aimed an M4 at her but Ishikawa immediately raised a hand, sharp and controlled.

"Lower it," the doctor ordered.

The soldier hesitated—Serin still had her hand raised, mana swirling faintly at her fingertips—but he obeyed. The muzzle dipped toward the ground.

Serin’s breathing stayed fast. Her pupils darted from the soldier, to Ishikawa, to the others in the distance. These men... they carried metal staffs that spat thunder. She had seen them kill goblins in a single flash. A single mistake here could kill her before she cast a second spell.

Ishikawa kept his hands visible, palms forward, slow and calm.

"Serin," he said, voice steady. "It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you. Nobody here is." He took a careful step toward her. "Remember? I treated your arm. The wounds on your wrists. You were dehydrated. Hungry. We saved you."

The bind spell on him wavered.

Her lips trembled. "You... helped...?"

"Yes," Ishikawa said gently. "We did." Another step. "You’re safe."

"Please return with me," Ishikawa said softly. "You’re not a prisoner. You’re a patient. Let us help you."

Serin’s magic flickered again—once, twice—then collapsed completely. The spell broke like a weak thread snapping, and Ishikawa staggered forward as control returned to his limbs.

She swayed, suddenly exhausted. Her legs trembled as if the last of her strength had drained out through her spell. Ishikawa immediately reached out—not grabbing her, only steadying her by the elbow.

"Easy. It’s alright."

Serin didn’t pull away this time.

The soldier with the M4 still watched, tense, but his weapon remained lowered.

Ishikawa gave him a nod. "Stand down. She’s coming with me."

He guided Serin gently toward the medical tent. She walked stiffly, her eyes glued to the concrete beneath her feet, as if staring too long at the steel giants, the roaring machines, or the jogging soldiers would send her spiraling again.

The canvas flap closed behind them, shutting out the sun, the noise, the world.

Inside, the medic bay felt colder.

Quieter.

The air smelled of antiseptic and warm blankets. Rows of beds lined the room, most occupied. Women—thin, bruised, shaken—slept or stared blankly, some curled into themselves, some trembling at every footstep.

Serin froze.

These faces...

These were the same women who had been chained next to her. The same ones who had screamed with her. The same ones goblins had dragged out of the dark corners of that stone room.

She swallowed hard as Ishikawa guided her back to her bed.

He arranged the blanket, placed a pillow behind her back, then reached for a stainless tray.

"Drink," he said, handing her a glass of water. "Slowly. Small sips. You’re still recovering."

Serin held the glass carefully, hands trembling so badly the water rippled. She took one sip. Then another.

She didn’t remember water ever tasting so... clean.

Once she lowered the glass, Ishikawa sat on the metal stool beside her.

"Serin," he began, voice gentle but steady, "you and the others were rescued by Atlas forces two days ago. My team brought you here and treated every injury we could. You’re safe now. No goblins. No chains. No darkness."

Serin’s grip tightened on the blanket.

Safe.

The word felt disgusting. Like lying to a wound.

Her eyes drifted to another bed—one where a girl barely older than a child slept with three blankets covering her. Another woman next to her whimpered in her sleep.

Ishikawa continued, "All of you are receiving treatment. The malnutrition. The infections. The wounds. And the pregnancies—"

Serin’s eyes snapped toward him sharply.

He hesitated only long enough to pick truthful words.

"Those women carrying goblin offspring... we ended the pregnancies," Ishikawa said quietly. "Safely. And they’re recovering."

A sharp breath ripped out of Serin’s lungs.

She looked down at her shaking hands... then at her stomach... then away.

Her jaw clenched.

"You don’t know," she whispered, voice cracking. "You don’t... you couldn’t possibly understand."

Ishikawa didn’t try to argue.

"You weren’t there," Serin said, louder now, fists clutching the blanket. "You didn’t hear them laugh. You didn’t hear the others scream. You didn’t watch your friends die on traps meant to kill rats." Her voice trembled violently. "You didn’t get dragged by your hair into that hole, you didn’t— you didn’t..."

She choked, breath catching in broken rhythm.

She forced the words out anyway.

"You didn’t feel them inside you every day. Every hour. You didn’t wake up knowing they’d come again. And again. And again." Tears finally spilled down her cheeks, silent and uncontrollable. "You didn’t give birth to those... things. You didn’t watch them take it away. You didn’t hear it hiss while they laughed."

Her voice shattered entirely.

"I wanted to die," she whispered. "I begged for it. I prayed for it. I prayed for the gods to kill me."

Ishikawa lowered his head.

Serin’s fingers gripped the blanket so tightly her knuckles turned white.

"So why?" she whispered. "Why didn’t you let me die? Why bring me back? Why are we still alive when everything is already gone?"

And finally—

Her eyes lifted, empty and pleading.

"Please... kill me."

The words dropped like broken glass.

Ishikawa inhaled slowly and sat up straighter. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t look away. He didn’t give her false comfort or hollow promises.

Instead, he said the only thing that mattered:

"No."

Serin blinked, stunned.

Ishikawa continued, firm but soft:

"You are alive. Not because you deserved what happened—because you survived it. And because someone fought to pull you out of that place." His voice lowered. "You will not die here. Not by my hand. Not by yours. Not after everything you endured."

Serin’s lip quivered.

"You don’t... you don’t understand what you’re asking me to live with."

"No," he agreed gently. "I don’t. But I’m going to help you live anyway."

Her tears fell again—silent, exhausted.

"And Serin," Ishikawa added, nodding toward the row of beds, "you’re not alone. All of you went through hell. You’ll climb out of it together... even if it takes months. Even if it takes years."

Serin looked at the sleeping survivors.

Her sisters from the dark.

Her fellow captives.

She swallowed hard, unable to answer.

Ishikawa placed a fresh cup of water on her bedside tray.

"I’ll check on the others. If you need anything... call for me."

With that, he stood and stepped away.

Serin curled beneath the blanket, eyes wide, breath shaky, mind spinning.

She wasn’t dead.

She wasn’t chained.

She wasn’t alone.

And for the first time...

...the future terrified her more than the past.