Jason and Farrah had anticipated a power set similar to Humphrey’s, producing a mobile, high-resilience brawler. They had only awakened around a third of Taika’s abilities, but the results, thus far, were falling completely into line. Clive had taught Jason about shaping a power set not by seeking out specific powers, but by aiming for powers within a certain scope.
This was proving out with Taika. Jason was deeply familiar with the Humphrey-style mobility brawler role, while Farrah knew how to fight like Taika, adapting his approach to his new abilities. His performance had helped convince the Network to grant him a spot as an external auxiliary to their tactical teams. He lacked the independence of Jason and Farrah but had gotten to go face to face with monsters. After the usual reaction of being taken aback when faced with a living, drooling creature, he started going to town on the iron-rank monsters.
There had been quite a crowd when Taika underwent his essence rituals. Jason's family all knew that essences were coming to them and were anxious to see what it looked like. At first, they were quite enthusiastic, up until Jason was hosing the gunk off the newly iron-rank Taika on the rear deck. It was universally agreed that it was the worst thing any of them had ever smelled.
“So, are you spending your day training Taika and the magic soldiers of tomorrow?” Erika asked.
“No, I’ve largely offloaded that on Farrah. She has more experience with the training methods than I do. She mostly gets me in to help with aura training.”
“What are you doing with your day, then?” Erika asked. “The Network’s secret magic clinic?”
“Yep. I have to say, it feels good to be helping people without killing things. I did a lot of that in my early days over in the other world. I kind of lost track of that as life took over, and it’s nice to get back to it.”
“I’m proud of you, little brother,” Erika said. “It’s the one part of all this that isn’t horrifying.”
“It can’t be the only part. I mean, look at how awesome Shade is. He’s like a phone, except snide and somehow British.”
“And flies my daughter around in a rocket suit. Which you have not done again, right?”
“Of course he hasn’t,” Jason said. “Have you, Shade?”
“I find it best not to involve myself in family disputes,” Shade said.
“See?” Jason asked.
“That was not a denial.”
“I didn’t see you complaining when he was a bunch of horses running along the beach at sunset.”
“I don’t think you’re allowed to take horses on that beach,” Erika said weakly.
“The medication will make you feel a little loopy,” the nurse said. “You might also have some mild hallucinations. Most patients report seeing a red glow, possibly some other colours.”
“Are you sure I can’t go in with her?” the girl’s mother asked.
“I’m afraid no one can be in the treatment room,” the nurse said. “That’s for legal and medical reasons. You did sign the non-disclosure, yes?”
“I did,” the mother said. “It was very strongly worded.”
The nurse glanced over at the receptionist, who nodded.
“We’re working with experimental procedures,” the nurse said. “The company is protecting millions, sometimes billions in research investment. We’re able to provide you with free care only because you’ve agreed to provide testimonials once the product rolls out. I’m sure you’ll be more than enthusiastic once you see the results for yourself.”
Several minutes later, the young girl was sitting upright on an examination chair, disoriented from a potion that would dull her senses and leave her memory hazy. Her head was held in place by a head frame, like that of an optometrist, on which she was resting her chin. She was also holding on to handles on the side of the frame, which helped her not topple over from the potion-induced dizziness.
“That’s excellent,” the nurse said. “You may hear something behind you, but I need you to keep your head in the frame and not look back, alright?”
“Okay,” the girl agreed in a doped-up, sing-song voice.
Behind the exam chair, a hidden door opened in the wall and Jason stepped silently into the room, his cloak of stars already in place. That way, if he was spotted, it would fit into the hallucination story the clinic was selling. Since his display at the children’s hospital, numerous individuals had subsequently come forward, claiming to have been healed by, or even be, the Starlight Angel. With the waters already muddied, it was easy to pass off what children said as echoing what they saw on television.
Jason murmured his spell as quietly as he could get away with and still have it work.
“Feed me your sins.”
“Ooh, I see the colours,” the girl said. “I feel funny.”
“You’re doing great, sweetie,” the nurse said. “Just keep looking forward for me.”
After he was done, Jason retreated through the door, which closed silently behind him. All through the clinic, other essence users were doing similar things. They had even taken to wearing dark cloaks with sequins to further the Starlight Angel narrative.
Jason was the only person at the clinic whose cleansing power actually replenished his mana rather than burning through it. This made him one of the clinic’s most valuable assets. The ability to clear out poisons and toxins was valuable; the inability to heal injuries was his only major shortfall.
Dealing with highly visible wounds was a trickier prospect for the clinic than largely invisible afflictions. They did not deal with normal injuries, as that would rapidly get them exposed. They left such cases to ordinary hospitals. Instead, they specialised in ‘experimental procedures’ that would allow otherwise permanent injuries to recover fully over time.
The clinic did have an emergency department, where arrangements had been made to redirect the worst injuries before they reached a hospital. Those cases had a frequent occurrence of the person’s injuries turning out to be not as bad as the initial EMT assessment.
After Jason was done, the girl was given a bed in the recovery ward for observation. This allowed the staff to watch for any adverse reactions to the magic while adding enough medical rigmarole to make the results seem like less of a miracle cure.
The private clinic was almost the size of a full hospital but operated without fanfare or even signage. Network-affiliated personnel in hospitals around the country made quiet referrals and transfers to clinics all around the country, making sure any inconvenient medical records discreetly disappeared.
Jason increasingly spent his mornings and early afternoons at the Sydney clinic while Farrah settled in at the Network’s training facility outside the city. In the afternoon, they would portal back, pick up Emi from school and do their own daily training routine, much of which had to be hidden from prying eyes.