"Joshua would be in room T14, right down that hall." The medical bay receptionist directed us with her thumb to the hall where Josh was supposedly placed. Behind the counters were several lights and screens, making noises of beeping and blinking with indicators at random intervals. While dealing with all of that, she was still able to assist us first by taking a brief moment typing something into some digital records, before pulling the card Emily had given her out of the scanner and returning it.
"Thank you," retaking her card, Emily turned away from the reception towards the hall where we were told to go through. She proceeded to lead us by walking away first, the three of us following along her trail in a group.
Coming in here, it was already pretty obvious the place was going to be massive, but walking through the waiting area made it even more prominent. The waiting room itself dwarfed most other medical bays, despite that it was still almost full with those waiting for treatment. People occupied every inch of available space, a mosaic of varied needs. There were obviously those with easily treatable infections, waiting for their turn for a quick fix. Others, however, bore the weight of more severe afflictions, like the person with a metal bar protruding from their abdomen.
Although unusual to see one of this size, it makes perfect sense for how Arkwasa is the biggest facility in the Nasia continent. To ensure a smooth flow of constant operations, they need a good medical ability to fix every defective 'cogs in the machine' to keep it going.
Emily led us out of the waiting area and into one of the hallways of the medical bay. The contrast was stark. The medical bay, despite its stringent aura of efficiency, had a facade of friendliness. Plants adorned the corridors, their vibrant greens providing a soothing contrast to the sterile whiteness. Vending machines hummed softly, offering refreshments and small comforts to those navigating the uncertain terrain of health. The facilities, while maintaining a strict clinical appearance, seemed designed to soften the edges of the medical experience.
Yet, behind this veneer of comfort, the medical bay retained an air of authority. The staff moved with purpose, and security measures were discreetly woven into the very fabric of the environment.
Passing by the rooms, I could see into some of them as every door had a small square window on them which revealed glimpses into it. Catching glances into the ones that weren't covered, I could see rooms that were more... luxurious than most other medical rooms, handling individuals who seemed to already be used to that kind of life. Elite, rich, powerful, one way or another.
"Your friend should feel fortunate, these rooms that are closer to the entrance are usually reserved for those who are wealthy or, like in the case of your friend, important. At least, for this job you are." Emily spoke as we approached the room where Josh was held for treatment.
With a gentle press against the wall beside the door, it signalled the door to open and welcome the guest. The treatment room exuded an air of subtle luxury, revealing a haven of comfort. The room was bathed in a gentle, calming light, emanating from fixtures that seemed fitting for a home than mere sources of hospital illumination. The walls were adorned with tasteful artwork, giving the room more personality without being too bold. The furniture, plush and inviting not only for the patient, but for the visitors as well. The bed, stood as the centrepiece of the room, promising rest and recuperation in unparalleled coziness.
"It's about time you guys got here,"
.
.
.
The vending machine slowly dispenses my drink into the paper cup, taking a light amount of my South Eastern Crowns as payment. I take a sip from my freshly machine-brewed drink, letting out a hydrated sigh.
It's probably been almost an hour since we got here, mostly chatting with Josh and telling him what we have to do now. He was kind of relieved by the fact that he would be discharged from the mission, yet there was some sense of disappointment as well. After some time though, there wasn't much for me to talk to him about, not even sure if I wanted to be part of the conversation after a certain time.
Even though it was a five-way conversation, it was undeniable that there was a border between me and someone. It might not affect the conversation as a whole, not even noticeable to others, but it just didn't feel right for me, and it's most likely the same way for her.
Checking my wristwatch for the time, I acknowledged that I simply couldn't just keep myself here despite my wishes. I didn't exactly make my departure from the room clear, excusing myself on my own without notifying the others. I wouldn't want them to trouble themselves looking for me if I had just left on my own.
With a weary sigh, I made my way back to Josh's room.
Yet, there was this door that had for some reason caught my attention while I was coming back. Peering through the window, I found myself gazing into a room bathed in an otherworldly glow. It's easy to tell that it was some sort of ritual room for a religion most likely to facilitate those who are religious, but wasn't like any religious space I had encountered before.
Inside, the room was a tapestry of gold and regal purples, a colour palette that evoked an aura of mysticism. Circular symbols adorned every surface, forming an intricate dance of patterns. At the far end, a wall held a mural that I could barely make out. It was some sort of long object, encircling a symbol that defied conventional description.
This room, hidden within the folds of the medical bay, appeared to be so significantly insignificant. In the sterile corridors of advanced medical technology, this room stood as a paradox. It HAD to be here, here with everything that is going on, but how? It shouldn't even be, much like how we are.
.
.
.
I found myself waking up on one of the soft seats in Josh's treatment room, everyone other than Josh himself had left the room. I guess they give the visitors for the elite to stay longer than others. How long was I asleep for?
