How Not To Summon a Modern Private Military Company in Another World
Chapter 33: She Woke Up
CHAPTER 33: SHE WOKE UP
"Commander, you need to see this."
The voice came from the doorway of the TOC. Albert look up immediately.
Sergeant Vega stood there, headset around his neck, tablet in hand, posture halfway between formal and urgent.
Albert stepped away from the map table. "What’s wrong?"
"It’s about one of the survivors," Vega said. "Patient Ten. Doctor Ishikawa requested your presence at the med bay."
Ward, who was leaning over a logistics display, glanced up. "That’s the one you spoke with."
"Yeah," Vega said. "She’s awake now. Fully conscious. Talking. Ishikawa says you should hear it yourself."
Albert exchanged a look with Ward. It wasn’t relief they felt. It wasn’t even hope.
It was readiness.
They’d pulled fifteen women out of hell. Every one of them was fighting a different battle now—and some battles were worse than the ones fought with rifles.
"Let’s go," Albert said.
He grabbed his helmet, clipped it to his vest, and exited the TOC with Ward falling into step beside him.
The base was alive with its usual noise—diesel engines rumbling, a forklift reversing, an engineering team lowering prefab wall panels into place. A squad jogged past, cadence echoing across the compound. Overhead, the deep roar of a C-130 spooled up before takeoff.
They reached the med bay in under a minute.
Inside, the world changed again.
The brightness dimmed. The noise quieted. The air smelled of antiseptic instead of oil and dust. Corpsmen moved silently, carefully, checking IVs and vitals.
Albert spotted Ishikawa at his station, flipping through a chart.
The doctor looked up immediately.
"Commander." He nodded once. "Thanks for coming."
"You said Patient Ten is awake?"
"Yes," Ishikawa replied, lowering his voice automatically. "And alert. Enough to talk. Enough to remember."
Ward exhaled slowly. "How is she holding up?"
Ishikawa’s eyes dimmed.
"She’s... coherent," he said. "But fragile. Extremely fragile. She had a dissociative episode when she first woke up. Panic response. She used magic."
"Magic?" Ward blinked. "She’s that functional?"
"Functional enough to paralyze me for ten seconds," Ishikawa grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.
But Albert didn’t laugh. He didn’t even react outwardly.
Inside his mind, gears shifted.
Magic. A survivor capable of restraining an adult with nothing but a gesture. A girl who was tortured for weeks—maybe months—and still had enough strength left to cast something that stopped a man cold.
He turned fully toward Ishikawa.
"What exactly happened?"
Ishikawa took a slow breath. "She woke up abruptly. Classic trauma snap—fight response. She ripped out her IV, tried to bolt out of the bay. When I approached, she cast... something. A binding spell. My whole body locked up."
Ward whistled low. "And here I thought goblins were the weirdest thing in this world."
"It wasn’t an attack," Ishikawa clarified. "It was pure panic."
Albert nodded once. "Did she hurt anyone?"
"She casted magic on a nurse but she’s fine. After we calmed her down... she started talking."
Ward shifted slightly. "Talking about what?"
"She remembered the rescue." Ishikawa answered. "She remembers the temple. The goblins. Her party. Everything."
Albert didn’t move for a moment.
"And?" he finally asked.
Ishikawa hesitated—just a half second—but Albert caught it instantly.
"She’s in a very dark place," the doctor said. "Her body’s recovering, but mentally? She wants to die. That’s the state she’s in. I talked her down, but it’s temporary. She needs stability. Familiar voices. People she can anchor to."
Albert’s jaw tightened. "She said something specific?"
"She asked me to kill her," Ishikawa said quietly.
Ward’s face fell. "Damn..."
Albert’s eyes lowered, but only briefly.
"Let me talk to her," he said.
Ishikawa nodded. "That’s why I called you. She responds better to authority.
Albert took a breath and exhaled slowly. "Where is she?"
"Bay Three," Ishikawa said, stepping aside. "She’s awake. She’s... calmer now. Just be careful. She’s not dangerous, but she’s unstable."
Albert gave a short nod and started walking.
Ward followed, but Ishikawa raised a hand. "Just the Commander for now."
Albert glanced back. "Stay on standby," he told Ward.
"Roger," Ward said, stepping back.
The med bay hallway was narrow, quiet, and dimly lit. Curtains rustled as corpsmen passed. A vital monitor beeped steadily. Somewhere, a woman cried softly, the sound muffled behind fabric.
Albert reached Bay Three.
Ishikawa pulled the curtain aside.
And there she was.
Serin.
Sitting upright against the pillows, knees drawn up under the blanket, arms tucked close to her torso as if protecting herself from the world. Her hair was tangled. Her skin was pale. Her wrists were wrapped in clean white dressings. Her eyes—sharp, golden-brown, but hollowed by exhaustion—lifted when she sensed someone entering.
She froze.
For a second she looked like she might cast again.
"Who are you?"
"I’m the man who was the head of the operations of your rescue," Albert introduced himself. "My name is Albert Spencer, CEO of Atlas. I may not be the one who personally rescued you but it was one of my men."
Though technically it was Major Claes but still, he’s living in Atlas now.
Serin didn’t respond right away.
Her eyes flicked from Albert’s boots... to his vest... to the patches on his uniform... then to the small black device clipped to his shoulder that crackled faintly with radio static.
She had never seen anything like any of it.
She didn’t know what a "CEO" was.
She only understood one thing:
Authority.
And Albert carried it like a mantle.
Serin pressed herself back against the pillow, stiff and wary. Her fingers twitched under the blanket, as if searching for magic that hadn’t fully returned yet.
Albert didn’t move any closer. He kept a respectful distance at the foot of the bed, hands resting on his belt—not near his sidearm, not near anything threatening.
"Serin," he said, voice even. "I’m not here to interrogate you. I’m here because you survived something no one should ever face. And because I need to understand what happened in that temple."
Her jaw clenched, instinctively defensive. "Why?"
"Because understanding it helps us stop it," Albert answered simply.
The honesty landed. Not gently, but solidly.
Serin’s eyes drifted down. The blanket tightened around her fists.
"...What do you want to know?"
Albert took a slow breath.
"Start with your party," he said. "You mentioned you weren’t alone. Who were you with?"
Serin swallowed, throat bobbing.
"Ralm. Bren. Darius..." Her voice cracked on the last name. "...They’re dead. All of them."
Albert nodded slowly. "I’m sorry."
"How long were you held?"
Serin shook her head. "I don’t know. Days. Weeks. I stopped counting. They kept us underground. No sun. No sound except..." She tensed so sharply the monitor beside her flickered. "...except them."
"I see..."
Looking at her answers right now, maybe it’s not the right time to ask questions about the lore of this world. So he won’t push further.
"We will continue this meeting on another date. And on that date, I will ask you questions about this world. Would that be okay?"
She simply nodded.