Somewhere along the line, Corrin had lost consciousness. His body slumped up against Johnson, who continuously pushed him forward. The adrenaline had drained from him, unsupported. Now he lay, fidgeting, eyes closed, on a concrete table. He raised his head slightly, feeling the restraints latched to his chest.
The pain came as he lowered his head again. Something was missing. He felt emptiness on his torso. His neck cricked as he looked to his shoulder. He held his breath. There was nothing. His shoulder was bloody and empty. His left arm was completely gone. A huge bruise flowed smoothly down his naked chest. Blood covered rags on the ground around him and small tools were sprawled across the floor.
He came to realize that he lay in a makeshift hospital. It was the worst sort of medical facility imaginable. He imagined it had been created aside from the main hospital, just for him. He jumped as something tapped his gored shoulder. It was great, mechanical arm. It buzzed around loudly, sowing what looked like steel onto his shoulder blade.
The Imperials were fixing him…but why? A giddy voice called from the shadows.
"Finally, our new toy is awake!" A man stepped into Corrin's view. A Medicae badge hung loosely from his bloodstained apron. His gloves were covered in gooey guts and black in soot. His mouth and hair were covered by a large, white mask. It was a rather disturbing sight. As Corrin looked closer, he noticed something familiar under the man's uniform: A Merican Medic badge.
"Traitor." He spat. The man laughed, but Corrin could see the hurt burning in his eyes.
"Corrin, Merica is doomed. The intelligent ones choose the right side…" Corrin cut him off.
"The brave ones fight." He said scornfully. The man turned away and grumbled something inaudible. "What's your name," He looked at the badge more carefully, "Private?" The man stood with his back to Corrin. "Answer me, I am a commanding officer."
"I said shut up! Shut the Frak up! Merica is a fragment of the past! The Emperor has…"
"Emperor Ha! Who is the Emperor? Who is this man you all worship? Surely you can tell me?" Corrin roared. The man wheeled around and punched Corrin in the jaw. He moved his jaw muscles in a rotation, attempting to release the pain.
"I said…shut up…" The Merican wheezed. "I have a job to do. Now, let me do it or I'll accidently give you a little overdose." He said threateningly. Corrin laughed in a hearty, mocking way.
"I see, you have all the power now. Go ahead, tell me. Why am I here?" He asked seriously. "Why have they not killed me?"
"I can't tell you." Corrin stared at him. "I can't." There was silence. "They'll kill me, Corrin, they'll kill me!" The man cried desperately. Corrin nodded. Now he was getting somewhere. "My name is Griff, Jack Griff."
"Alright Jack, why am I here?" He repeated.
"You know about the… the Treacherous Soul Virus I expect." Jack began. Corrin nodded. "Right, Corrin, you're the missing link! Your immunity, it sterilizes the viruses, both strains. That is the only host It can incubate in, one that can harbor both. You cannot have one with the other, unless you are immune. Corrin, you have It, and he will do anything to get it from you. Anything!"
"I have what? What do I have Jack?" Corrin asked frantically. There was a bang. Jack's head blew into pieces. "No!" Corrin yelled as several Imperial's entered the room shouting and firing.
"Keep Grant down!" Ordered one of the soldiers, who looked like a captain. "Lord Riktus is on his way. There was a series of beeps. The soldiers looked around. Corrin listened intently. The Captain looked to the ground. A small object lay there. A red light flashed across it.
"Frak."
As the word exited the Captain's mouth, there was a rush of flames. Fire and shrapnel engulfed the squad as Corrin shut his eyes to the light.
"Think I would leave you behind?" Corrin smiled as he recognized the voice. It was Grange. The adept stepped from the flames, followed by several dirty Mericans.
He laughed and grinned. A Merican hurried to the bedside and released the binds.
"What did you do to yourself?" Grange laughed, looking at Corrin's arm. Corrin lifted his gleaming, cybernetic arm and tested the new movements. It was fluid and strong. He smiled again. He was simply glad to back with his countrymen. Someone tossed him a slug rifle. He seized it up in his hands.
"Now," Grange began, "We're even." Corrin gave him a thumbs up, and they rushed out of the room. Corrin pushed his happiness aside and plunged into deep thought. What was It? What had Jack been talking about? His immunity had left both Devian Mortis strains imprinted in his body, and Jack said that meant something. But what? How would it affect him? How was he the missing link?
The questions disappeared from his head as he emerged onto the occupied street, Grange beside him, and opened fire.