Present day

06 JUN 33AE, 0024

Barracks, Los Angeles

It was the feeling of warmth spreading throughout her body that forced Camilla to jolt back to consciousness. Her first thought was that she was on fire, since one of the last things she remembered was fighting a raging ball of flames. Instinctively, she tried to roll to the side, but her body felt too heavy to do what it was told. So she tried again, mustering whatever strength she had left to move even an inch. Except all that did was move her body in a weak flopping motion and send a sharp pain buzzing up each of her arms.

"Easy, Camilla, it's just me," a low, unfamiliar voice said.

Unfortunately, those words were definitely not reassuring to Camilla when she had no idea who said them. Her survival instincts kicked in and she managed to push herself up enough to sit up and scramble backwards, only stopping when her hands felt the edge of the balcony floor. Her vision took a little longer to put things into focus, but luckily the stranger kept their distance.

"It's just me," the voice repeated. "Mack. Mackenzie. Olomana."

Camilla knew the guy, but that didn't mean she trusted him.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, her voice sounding much stronger than she felt.

"I just want to help," Olomana said, trying to sound as reassuring as he could. "Your cells—some of them are seriously damaged. You shouldn't even be leaning on your hands right now."

"I'm fine," Camilla insisted, just as one of her hands gave out under the strain of her leaning on it. She amended, "I will be fine."

"Camilla..." Olomana began.

"Don't act like we're friends."

"Sorry, habit." He sighed. "Wyatt, I understand if you don't trust me, but please, just let me help you get out of here, at least."

Camilla scoffed. "And why would you do that?"

Olomana's answer was definitely not what Camilla had expected: "Elsie asked me to. Elsie Bates."

Suddenly, Camilla's instincts fired up again, but this time it wasn't for her own well-being.

"Elsie?" she repeated, unable to hide the worry in her tone. "Is she alright? Where is she?"

"She's fine," Olomana insisted, but Camilla wasn't convinced. "She called me asking if you were alright, since you weren't answering your phone. I told her I would find you."

So Elsie was okay. Camilla felt a wave of relief wash over her, but it was quickly followed by an inkling of suspicion.

"What's in it for you?" she asked, her eyes narrowed.

Olomana looked like he was about to sigh again in frustration, but he restrained himself.

"Nothing," he claimed. "Elsie's my friend, and I want to help her. And you're my colleague. We have to look out for each other."

Camilla had some issues with his last statement, but she decidedly kept them to herself. She had bigger concerns to deal with, and lying there wasn't doing her any good. She needed to see for herself that Elsie was okay.

As she started to struggle to her feet, Olomana quickly approached her.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, his hands trying to keep Camilla where she was without actually touching her. "Let me heal you a little first."

"That can wait," Camilla simply replied, even though her arms were burning from just pushing herself into a seated position.

"Did you not hear what I said earlier?" Olomana said exasperated. "You have serious cell damage. After you—oh, what's it that people are saying? Oh right, you channeled the energy from a ginormous ball of magnesium fire. Do you know how hot those things are?"

"Obviously," Camilla muttered deadpan.

"Then just give me one minute, okay?" Olomana tried to compromise. "One minute, and then we can go."

Camilla already knew she didn't have a choice. There was no way she could use her abilities in the state she was in, and she would definitely need them to get back to the ground. After weighing her options, she reluctantly nodded.

As Olomana worked on Camilla's hands and arms, which looked like they had been seriously burned, Camilla couldn't help but let her attention wander. Normally, she would keep an eye on the Org's healers to make sure they weren't up to no good, but she supposed she could trust a friend of Elsie's for just a minute. So her eyes drifted around the scene, which looked more like a warzone than the building she had called home for the last five years.

She wasn't sure what floor she was on, but at least most of the support structure seemed to be holding. In exchange, most of the floor was completely gone, save for some fragments closest to the support structure, including the balcony they were on.

One of the oddest sights was seeing the balcony of the apartment across from them, where she had been thrown originally, since there were no longer any walls separating the units and hallway. Instead, there was a gaping hole looking straight through the building and out into the night sky.

Suddenly, a memory struck Camilla out of nowhere. It was a memory where she was on the ground, helpless, as she stared pitifully out of a gaping hole in their classroom wall that had been perfectly intact only moments ago. Someone was calling her name, telling her to run, but she couldn't move. She wanted to help, but she couldn't. She was powerless.

"Camilla!" Olomana's voice snapped her back to the present.

"Phone," Camilla forced herself to say. Her voice was noticeably strained, and her chest felt tight as she merely tried to breathe, but none of that mattered. She needed to make sure Elsie was alright. "I need my phone."

While Olomana insisted on healing her more, he gave in against Camilla's stubbornness and her persistent attempts at getting to her feet with or without his help. They were about five stories above Camilla's floor—it was hard to tell when all the level indications were long gone—so Camilla used what little energy she had to carefully fly them down.

It ended up being a little difficult to find her unit since about half of it had disappeared, along with most of her belongings, not that she had much to begin with. Thankfully, her bedroom had survived most of the destruction, and her phone was safely on the ground next to the nightstand she had left it on. But when she tried returning Elsie's calls, the line was busy.

"Phone lines are packed," Olomana explained. "You could try texting. You might not get a reply for a while, but it'll go through eventually."

Camilla shook her head before Olomana even stopped talking. "I need to see Elsie. Now."

"But the Org—"

"I don't care. I need to see her."

Once again, it didn't take long for Olomana to give in to Camilla's stubbornness. He only pretended to think about it for a few seconds before letting out yet another sigh.

"Fine," he surrendered. "But only because Elsie would agree with you."

Camilla didn't trust her abilities to get them to the ground safely, and she ignored Mack's suggestion to hitch a ride with one of the random guardians that were flying through the air, so they agreed to make the trip by foot.

From her floor, the emergency staircase should have remained relatively intact all the way to the ground level, according to Olomana. But since Camilla didn't have enough energy to verify his claim, the two of them made their way down the dark stairwell slowly and carefully.

As a backup plan, Olomana had borrowed another guardian's super-strength beforehand, and he assured Camilla he would protect them both from falling debris or a collapsing floor if necessary. Camilla was doubtful of his abilities, but she went along with him anyway out of a lack of a better option.

Thankfully their descent went without any major incident. They only had to pause about a third of the way down, when a minor collapse in the upper portion of the Barracks let out a low rumble that permeated throughout the entire building, and Olomana began to have an early mid-life crisis.

After he calmed down, they quickly made it to the lobby floor, which was relatively undamaged. But before they could get to Mack's car on the street, a snobby-looking meta stopped them for questioning. Camilla had no qualms about rudely brushing them off, but before she could, Olomana intervened.

"Sorry, but I need to take her to medical first," Olomana said. "You can talk to her after."

The meta sniffed a little, looking irritated, and possibly not used to being talked back to. "It's crucial that we get statements as soon as possible after an incident like this."

Olomana nodded, as if the meta had made a convincing argument. "Okay, fine. But can I get that in writing? I don't want to be at fault if one of America's best guardians is permanently out of commission because her injuries weren't treated when they should've been."

After probably having a lengthy internal debate, the meta finally let them go, but not before forcing them to show their identification. Camilla didn't have hers since she had left it in the section of her apartment that was now missing, but she did give the meta the unit number she lived in and a blessing that they could go get it themselves.

Even though the drive to Elsie's should've taken no more than ten minutes, the evacuations coupled with an abundance of street closures made it take almost an hour. A few streets were blocked with debris, but most of the shutdowns were for security reasons. They drove through five checkpoints, each one asking for identification. Thankfully, the guards at these weren't as uptight as their predecessor at the Barracks, and they each let Camilla through immediately upon recognizing her. A few didn't even bother to verify Olomana's identity.

At some point, Camilla's attention wandered, and she watched the city zip by without actually seeing it. She was used to fighting and explosions, but this felt different. Maybe it was because they attacked her home, and it made the fight personal.

Camilla had always tried to not get too attached to things, so losing one of the few things she did care about probably hurt more than it should. It was a feeling she hadn't felt in years, of being powerless to protect what she cared about, yet she already felt it twice in the past few months. And she didn't want to feel it again if she could help it.

As they drove through an intersection, Camilla spotted the Barracks between the buildings—or rather, what was left of it. The destruction was worse than she expected, and she found it hard to believe that, only about an hour ago, she had been in there about to go to sleep. No one would have expected to see the gaping holes in the building where Org employees, some with their families, had once been living peacefully. Belatedly, Camilla wondered what the casualty count was, and suddenly her mind was filled with the sounds of explosions and the cries of those that only lived in memories.

She must have been so distracted that she hadn't noticed that they had stopped until Olomana had turned off the car ignition, having already parked in an underground structure. By then, Camilla felt mindless and numb, and she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do next. She knew Olomana was talking to her but she couldn't understand what he was saying, or how to form words of her own.

So when he rounded the car to open the passenger door and offered his hand, she took it and let him guide her to wherever they were going. Camilla vaguely recognized the area—the entrance, lobby, elevator, hallways—but she couldn't access her memories to make a connection.

Eventually, they made their way to a door, and it wasn't until that door opened that Camilla was able to put a name to a memory. It was Elsie that was waiting for them, and she was perfectly fine. Her hair was tied up in a frazzled bun and she had a large blanket clutched tightly over her shoulders. At the sight of them, she dropped the blanket, revealing a rumbled tank top and sweatpants.

"Oh my god," Elsie exclaimed, her voice a mixture of relief and exhaustion. She approached Camilla, as if to hug her, but stopped short, hesitant.

Camilla wanted to tell her that it was okay. That normally, yes, she avoided physical contact, that she preferred it if people expressed themselves by other means. But at that moment, she wouldn't mind the contact if it was from Elsie. Anything to remind her that, while her mind had drifted off into the unknown, her body was anchored here, where it was safe.

But she couldn't find the words, nor her own voice. So Camilla let her body move on its own as she approached Elsie and rested her head on her shoulder in a wordless invitation. Eventually, Camilla felt Elsie's arms wrap around her and pull her close, and Camilla couldn't help the shudder that raked through her, as if the stress from the past hour was being drained away.

She wasn't fine, not by a long shot, but maybe she would be. Maybe, in time, she could be.

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