Antumbra - A Lost Cause

Sentinel - Chapter Twenty Nine

It had been a while since Arva had come around, but she still felt the lingering symptoms as she sat in her hospital bed. When she had initially woken up, her throat hurt, and there was pressure in her eyes and ears. She had trace amounts of crusty blood in the corners of her mouth, and felt like she'd had a terrible cold for weeks. It was only within the last hour that this lethargy had gone away and she started feeling like herself again. The desserts the hospital offered her certainly didn't hamper the healing process, and she was currently halfway through her second bowl of chocolate mousse as she mulled over her last battle. Ever since her fight she had a massive appetite, though the doctor had explained that was due to the intense physical drain the Argonaut placed on her. Apparently she had suffered a "feedback loop" which is what knocked her out, though she didn't know what that meant, nor did the doctor's know if it'd happen again. Unlike her last time waking up in a hospital bed, this room was far larger and much, much nicer. It was decorated, had large windows covered with blinds, and was generally more sophisticated and comfortable. More akin to a hotel room she knew of from television, not the tiny white box she'd seen before.

Another welcome change were the nice pajamas they'd given her instead of an ill-fitting hospital gown. Arva secretly hoped they let her keep them, just like her Eclipse uniform, but doubted it. A single orderly had been checking in periodically to make sure she was alright, which she assured them she was, but much like before she was being held for observation. She'd only really needed to know two things when she'd woken up: was everyone safe, and did she kill anyone this time? The doctor who treated her seemed confused by the second question, but nevertheless assured her she'd stopped the enemy before they reached the population, and she'd only disabled the Argonauts. In fact, two had apparently managed to escape, whilst the third was taken prisoner. Arva didn't have the nerve to ask what became of him. As far as she was concerned her job was done, and maybe it was the stress of the battle or frustration over being dragged back into this mess, but she seemed perfectly content to sit in a comfy bed and devour as many desserts as they'd give her. Though one thing still nagged at her, and as if he'd read her mind, Marcus opened the door.

"Mind if I come in?" He asked from the doorway.

"Yes, of course!" Arva said, placing the bowl on the table next to her, "I mean no, not at all," she let out a small, nervous laugh, "yes you can come in, no I don't mind."

"We have to stop meeting like this," Marcus quipped, ignoring her fumble. He smiled and pulled up a chair, "and before you ask, yes, I contacted your grandmother. She knows you're safe, and what really happened. Few in the Lows took notice of the conflict, but I expect rumours to spread, so I saw it prudent to get ahead of the gossip before it caused her undue worry."

"Thanks," Arva said, sighing. It was nice to not worry if her family was still alive, but she felt guilty at the thought of Gramma fretting over her absence. She pulled the covers up to her neck, wrapping herself up and tucking the edge behind her so she was snugly cocooned, "what happened to me? Is it normal for pilots to just pass out?"

"What you suffered was a feedback loop," Marcus explained, his tone and demeanour doing much to assure her it was nothing serious, "a simple, if unpleasant, side effect that comes from lack of proper pilot calibration. As you may have felt, once you are fully embraced by the suit, your senses become one. You feel what it feels, and it moves how you move. Rarely, though more common to novices, this back-and-forth of influence can get out of hand." Marcus clasped his hands and seemed genuinely regretful, "it was my mistake. Calibrations usually take hours, and pilots always train first before being deployed, but I rushed things."

"It's fine," said Arva, still feeling somewhat nauseous from the incident, though the amount of sugar she was consuming could be a contributor to the unease in her gut. She didn't blame Marcus, the enemy had appeared the instant she deployed, and if they had even waited a few minutes longer things could have been much worse. Arva sat up a bit to better speak with him, though stayed bundled up for her own comfort, "so... when I get into that machine, it's also in my brain?"