Epilogue

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The air is polluted with unpleasant must, a fetid scent that you have grown accustomed to over the past few hours. Even within the walls of this meager house, the atmosphere is the same as the dirty streets outside. It's horrific, but you're no god. You can't control the climate in this subterranean kingdom. 

So, you make do with what you have. Levi's scrubbed down the room several times beforehand, as he does whenever you two visit. Even now, he changes the sheets on the only vacant bed of the six filling the space, replacing them as you tend to a patient. 

A pseudo-patient, at least. This is hardly an official hospital; just a living residence transformed into a medical facility. Levi explained it used to be where his trio lived, left vacant during the months after his recruitment into the Scouts. In the year following your first mission as a Scout, you decided to utilize your talent in the Underground. After clearing the space of squatters and thugs, you established a safe space for any patients that Levi permits. He has the best gauge of who to trust, after all. Only the ex-resident knows his people. 

And now, several fortunate individuals receive your care whenever you can visit, often resting in the beds you had stationed up and inquiring about whatever new affliction aggrieves them. There're about a half-dozen patients right now, either chatting with each other in the safety of this house or attempting to rest on a fresh bed.

"Let this be a lesson, Noa," you sigh as you weave a cotton wrap around your patient's wrist. He's younger, perhaps a teenager, with a thin, pale frame that is clearly deprived of many luxuries of life. He's fractured his wrist as the result of taking a dangerous path home, the teenager subjected to a group of roughhousing thugs. "Always take the long route. You'd rather be fatigued from walking than crawling into my clinic with a broken arm." 

"I know." Noa's voice is thin, hoarse breathing withering his words. He's been a regular patient for a while—primarily for silicosis, though, not a wrist fracture. "I really thought I'd notice them coming, though."

Levi scoffs as he smooths out the off-white sheets he's just completed hospital corners on. "I've told you a million times to avoid the alleys on the west side of town. Babanin's gang is territorial in those parts." 

"Sorry, Levi."

You snip off the length of cotton from its roll, then take up a second roll of black dressing to finish the cast. "I like your company, but I don't want you getting hurt just to come here. You've got a family to look after." You coil the final layer around his wrist, keeping the joint stiff so it can heal. 

"Yeah. Can...can I head home after this?" he asks. "I don't want my siblings on their own for long."

"Absolutely," you promise as you gingerly pat down the cast. "Keep your cast clean, and try to keep it elevated. It can probably come off in around four weeks." Rising from your seat, you help him off the bed and to the door. "If I'm around by then, I'll remove it myself. If not, I trust Annike to help you. She's a block away from the brothel, remember?"

"I do." Noa grips his bound arm, gloomily inspecting his treatment. "Um, thank you for the help. Please stay safe outside the Walls."

"I will." You give a gentle smile, the best reassurance you can manage.

"Speaking of," Levi chimes in. "We need to get going. Erwin's probably finished by now." 

"Right." You doff your apron and fold it up, quickly closing up shop. "Levi, can you take Noa to the main street at least? I'll clean up in here." 

"Yeah. Don't leave this house until I come back." Levi nods to the door, urging Noa along. "Come on, brat. Let's try to make sure your other wrist stays intact." 

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