A few minutes later, Victor, still in his hospital room, now alone with Duncan and no longer covered in all those dirty bandages, was finishing putting on his shirt, clean and scented with gardenia. He slipped it on slowly, letting out a small "ah" sound as he strained a bit too much trying to get his left arm through the sleeve.
"Vic...!"
Both Duncan and Victor recognized the voice. It wasn't gentle or delicate either. Turning toward the doorway, they saw two figures. The first, slightly to the left, was a young woman whose face bore subtly Japanese features, her long black hair falling in soft waves. She stared at Victor with wide, glossy eyes, the shine stark against the darkness of her irises. Behind her stood a fairly tall man—no more than about six feet tall—with a cold, serious gaze emphasized by pale blue eyes. Though faint wrinkles marked his cheeks and the corners of his eyes, he couldn't have been older than thirty-five, unlike the girl, who looked barely of age.
"Raiko, Nikita..."
Victor was cut off by the girl's impulsive hug, which hurt him at first from the force of the impact. "Ow..."
"Oh—right... sorry!" she said, forcing a smile that showed her teeth. "We're not allowed to visit patients during a coma, and, well... we were really worried..."
"What are you guys doing here? I still don't get it," Victor asked, glancing at Duncan after recovering from the brief pain.
"You still haven't told him?" Raiko looked at Duncan, surprised and slightly irritated. He quickly went on the defensive. "He was still exhausted! I wanted to wait until he recovered."
"The base was attacked."
Nikita's voice was deep and authoritative, the kind that naturally put others on edge.
"How was it attacked?" Victor asked, confused and shaken, staring at the man with wide eyes.
"Two days ago..." Duncan cut in, his tone uncertain and somber, drawing Victor's attention as he turned toward him almost immediately.
Duncan pressed his palms against his thighs, visibly shaken. He then stood up, slipping his hands into his pockets as he slowly approached Victor while speaking.
"Five people came down with Tokbog. Three of them turned into Ijo. It happened in the middle of the night..."
A brief silence followed. Victor crossed his arms, trying to process the situation.
"Who else survived?" he finally asked, shaken.
"Most of the residents died," Nikita replied. "Besides the three of us and Lieutenant Abner, squads O-2 and O-3 survived as well, plus roughly fifteen percent of the total military personnel."
"Are the others here?" Victor asked.
"No," Nikita answered. "Only us, along with Oltmann and Taylor. The others were relocated to the Derrick Bolt base."
"Are Hansen and David here?" Victor asked.
"Yes, but they're in a coma..." Raiko said, speaking just as Nikita was about to answer. He opened his mouth slightly, then closed it again.
"...They should wake up tomorrow," Duncan added, stepping beside Raiko, his gaze fixed on Victor.
Horrified and terrified by what he had heard, Victor stared blankly ahead, overwhelmed by so many emotions that he didn't know which to let surface first. Just imagining the catastrophe that had unfolded at the base—the screams of pain, the creatures' roars, the blood spilled—he shut his eyes tightly, as if battling a pounding headache he was trying to suppress. Yet the images played vividly in his mind.
"Hackett, are you okay?" Nikita asked.
Victor didn't respond. He suddenly opened his eyes, as if startled.
He got out of bed but began to stagger; at first, his legs felt weak. He grabbed the bed rail, gripping it as tightly as he could.
"Bro, what are you doing? The doctor said you need crutches!" Duncan exclaimed, supporting his friend by the arm. "I get that you're shaken..."
"I can manage," Victor cut him off. "I need to get out of here..." he added. But despite his initial steadiness, as soon as he took a step forward, he slipped, falling and hitting his right knee on the floor before catching himself with his hands, scraping them hard against the ground. "Ow..."
"Hey! You okay?" Duncan asked anxiously, crouching to help him up.
"Vic, you alright?!" Raiko added, doing the same.
"Oh..."
Raiko and Duncan turned toward the door. Dr. Skylar stood there, holding a pair of crutches. Her gaze was fixed on Victor, and she seemed, at first, genuinely worried. It wasn't just a doctor's concern for a patient. Her eyes, wide and intent, revealed a sincere, personal worry for him.
She approached quickly without a word. Setting the crutches aside, she helped the others lift him and sit him back down on the bed. Victor tried to make it easier, pushing himself backward.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice clearly concerned.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," Victor replied, rubbing his knee with his right hand.
She noticed. "What did you do to your knee?"
"Nothing, don't worry. It doesn't hurt."
She nodded, giving a small "mm," though she still eyed his knee skeptically.
"Anyway..." She brushed a strand of hair on the left side of her head behind her ear because it was bothering her. "I figured you'd want to get out of bed... and I was right," she added with another smile, glancing down at the floor for a moment as if embarrassed. Then she looked back up, darting quick glances around the room.
"Thank you for that," Victor said, offering a small smile of his own.
She returned it, seeming to blush briefly.
"Anytime. And you can call me by my first name. I'm only twenty-four—we're practically the same age."
"Sure..." Victor began, about to say her name, though he realized he didn't actually know it.
"Toria. My name's Toria."
"Alright... Toria. You already know mine," he replied, slightly ironic.
"Yeah, yeah."
She paused awkwardly, lightly brushing her hands against her tunic before slipping them into her pockets.
"I should go. I've got a lot to do." She left the room, almost hurriedly.
"She's kind of strange..." Raiko said, still confused by what she'd just witnessed.
"But she's really cute," Duncan replied, earning sharp glares from Raiko.
"Is that seriously all you could think about?"