Orion crashed through the door of his home, his steps unsteady and uneven. His unfocused gaze briefly sed the room, cheg for threats out of self-preservation, before stumbling toward the bathroom. One ha pressure, while the other shakily opened cupboard doors and ets, searg desperately for anything that could sterilize his wounds.

  "Just give me a semi- rag, or anything!" He thought, his mind a foggy haze through pain and desperation. Everything hurt after that fight, even areas untouched. After the adrenaline faded Orion struggled to stand, let alone walk.

  "Nothing," Orion cursed under his breath. Through agony, he did a thh check of the downstairs, tearing through every crevice. He knew he would find nothing upstairs. Still, to no avail and his frustratioears started to form, his mental state deteriorating and he began cursing the world, his voice filled with emotion.

  "Why the fuck was I thrown in here? Killing, getting fucked up, for what? Some retarded kids? For him?" His words spilled out, venomous and raw.

  "My life was about to start!" His knuckles whitened as he gripped the tertop.

  With a roar of frustration, Orion smmed the cupboard door with enough force to rip it off its hihe broken pieged against the metal ter. His tears fell freely, barely audible whispers through sobbing, "My life was about to start..."

  --------------------------------------

  Orion sat ihroom on a metal stool, jacket and shirt off, cheg his injuries. It had taken him a while to calm down before dragging the kit's metallic stool into the bathroom. His appearance was a mess.

  His entire abdomen had an angry shade of purple, and his cuts were infmed and deep. Just running his fingers along the ski a painful statisation throughout his torso. Orion's head was er, with purple bruising on the and a shallow gash on the back of his skull.

  "I was lucky to survive the first blow," Orion grimly thought, tinuing to analyze the situation. "Medie in topside is too expensive, and Bck Lanes is too dangerous to reach- especially in my dition. A-"

  Orion hung his head in some despair, "The silver ..." The sensation of it slipping from his fingers g him; it was gone. "Lady Luck strikes again."

  For a moment, Orion thought about returning to Vander and the others. With a stubborn shake of his head however, he rejected the idea, insisting to himself, "No, I'm not a charity case."

  Raising his head, Orio his own gaze in the mirror, the silence broken by drifting thoughts. "Magic..." The small, budding idea began to bloom, curiosity scratg at his sciousness. Self-doubt crept in, but his inner voice battled it out, "I've practiced three times... Two-three minutes before I lose sciousness? Could it work?"

  A sembnce of light reignited behind his eyes, resolution took hold, challenging his fierce gaze in the mirror. With a deep breath, he grabbed his clothes and stumbled upstairs, determination rising with every step.

  --------------------------------------

  Careful with his movements, Orion id on his side, keeping his jury away from the bed and face mashed into the pillow to prevent the gash on the back of his head from ing into tact with anything. "Every surface here could probably breed iion," Orion thought grimly, closing his eyes as he cupped a hand over the wound, focused on f the mental e.

  Once more, the el opens- a thread from fabric, magiveloping his body before Orion focuses it on the gash. The threads of magic took physical flowing blue vied from his skull. Dynamid lifelike, they weaved and sowed themselves across the wound while glowing a radiant blue hue.

  Orio his skin tighten as the vines pulled the edges of the gash together. It gave him a rough indication oo stop, releasing the el. Gently, his fingers brushed the thin, weak membrane where the gash had been. "So it heals... But at a cost."

  This thought solidified as exhaustioled over him. His arm, which reviously struggling to stay raised, gave out and fell limp. Hunger pangs radiated from his stomach, sharp and sistent, drawing a grimace as it blended with his other aches. "Damn, I'm hungry."

  Orion's thoughts drifted to money, "I should have 8 half-bronzes left total... One meal if I wa- And ora bowl of slop." He groaned into the pillow, his situation was worse than before. Still, he rolled onto his bad a gri into his expression; he finally achieved something.

  ------------------------------

  Evening had fallen by the time Orion could finish mending the other cw wounds. The skin over eajury distorted unnaturally, stretched tight as if someone had forcibly pulled it closed. Hunger g his sanity, a strong reminder of the cost.

  He knew he couldn't heal the bruises- well, he could, but he wouldn't. The hunger would drive him insane, and his body had already bee weak from the process. It took almost thirty mio get downstairs where he was met with a pale, visibly shaky silhouette.

  "Eating vitality to restore health, a twisted trade-off in its purest form," Orion muttered to himself in the mirror. It was ohing to watch it through a s; experieng it was ahe physical aal toll was steep, but useful.

  A grim smile crept back across his face as he accepted this reality before slowly walking out.

  Orion paused as he reached the corpses, their pale, rigid forms now serving as a reminder of reality; the unfiving nature of the Uy. A fleeting thought crossed his mind- could overloading the healing process cause damage? Excess energy turning berserk and causing the reverse effect, destroying the body in a violent burst?

  A dark and wicked thought, as he stood over corpses. With grim aowledgement, Orio Emberflit Alley in search of food.