Chapter Ninety-Four | Third World

                                    

                                          


                          
[ 94 ]
                          
Through the sensation of his head exploding, Hansel was able to undergo the arduous task of dragging the unconscious lumps, one by one, towards the river. He made sure to be especially careful with Roscoe, as the man had sustained a stab-wound in the shoulder. The greens he was wearing were clogged with blood; clinging to his skin.
                          
As he painstakingly removed the elite soldier's clothing, he found on many occasions as he did so, that there was never the niggling sensation in the back of his head that threatened to yank him into the privacy of Roscoe's memories. He put it down to mental exhaustion and continued on.
                          
Even though unconscious, Roscoe groaned as Hansel tried to work as diligently as possible; it was a positive that he was still responsive after unknowingly taking part in dimensional-travel. And the sounds faintly continued when the cool water of the river submerged the wound, causing the blood to ooze slightly before instantaneously filtering out. Hansel got to watch as the unassuming river began to clean and then slowly heal the vicious-looking wound. 
                          
He had suspected the water was far from simple, as on many occasions before taking a dip, he felt haggard, and yet felt miraculously refreshed afterwards. So even before going to check on Jakob and Bjorn, Hansel cupped some of the water in his hands and splashed it over his face. 
                          
The two ex-Scavenger member's had been thrown into the water pretty haphazardly, but Hansel had to prioritise the one individual who had been bleeding. Besides, any injury they sustained from impact, would be healed alongside their other ailments. After propping them up and into a better position so that they were against the embankment, Hansel flopped down to the ground nearby. 
                          
His attention was directed towards the sky, and every livid thoughts revolving Valentin, quickly drifted away. As the wind picked up, brushing the foliage of the trees, it reminded him of the sound of the ocean; waves crashing onto the beach. It lulled him almost to sleep, but before he could, he heard the disturbance of water.
                          
As if some form of alarm bell had chimed, Hansel sat up and noticed as all three stirred awake. Jakob and Bjorn began to cough, an immediate reaction to the recollection of being almost strangled to death. While Roscoe frantically looked around and tried to clamber to his feet. Of course, to wake up in a setting where he was completely open to any attack, his training kicked in. 
                          
"Calm down, there's no Rotters here." Hansel reassured, and the three men who had become lost in their own blind-panic, eventually spotted him sitting with his knees tucked up slightly and a relaxed composure on his face. They each had questions— as expected.
                          
So instead of them having to waste the time, Hansel spoke up, "This is my secondary ability. One I kept a secret, even from Andrei. It's a— well, I call it a pocket dimension of sorts. I can jump in and out of it when I desire to. And the river you're in, it seems to have its own abilities which brought you all back from the brink."
                          
Roscoe looked to his own injury as Hansel spoke, having seemingly just remembered he'd been shot. His eyebrows almost hit his hairline when he examined the closed wound. As it was still in the process of healing, there was some inflammation, but it was gradually disappearing by the minute. 
                          
"Fuckin' Valentin!" Jakob suddenly sneered as his body tensed. 
                          
"Now we know what he's capable of." Hansel revealed, followed by a sigh. The only abilities that could impact Valentin would be ones used in long-range. Both Hansel and Jakob had to physically touch whoever it may be, and even then, Hansel didn't want to take on the psychological toll which came from fucking someone's head up. He would have to witness it himself; so it could immediately backfire.