A Cold Shoulder

Huddled up tightly against the ice pillar, hands gripping tight around her knees, Lyntael's shallow, panicked panting was swiftly driving her towards a light-headed fog as the seeping cold crept in through her increasingly damp clothes. Snatches of thought tried to tell her to calm down, or to breath deeper, but they were dashed away by the fear of being discovered. A sense of brightness to one side made her eyes peek open just long enough to see the sudden flash of sparking energy that careened towards her. A moment later, her vision went white.

There was no sound; there should have been. Muffled, there was the distant sense of it though. Cracking rock and falling stone, some kind of horrendous, throaty screech that quickly became a wet, faltering gurgle, and a hot, all-piercing ringing that reverberated through every corner of her world. The pain was there too, but detached, in a way that was so all-consuming there was no way to process it. Long seconds of nothingness passed as her brain shut out every sense that it couldn't handle.

The first strands of sensation to return was the broken mix of numbing, aching cold, and spikes of raging heat. Everywhere was freezing, except where painful injuries burned like inflamed beacons. Her body twitched and convulsed every other moment still, limbs locking up in bursts of tight constriction and each shift brought fresh spikes of heat as they scraped against the shattered rubble beneath her. Something warm was pressed against her cheek, but just below a sharp jag of rock scraped against the side of her neck every time another aftershock wracked her.

A cough made her form curl up on itself again roughly, and she noticed the thick, lumpy sensation of something in her mouth, tasting harsh and metal. She knew blood when she tasted it, and as her eyes flicked open, still blurry, she could see a spattered pattern of red, lit up by the glowing panel beneath her, already spread out from earlier coughs she hadn't felt. Her vision wouldn't clear, and each small residual twitch made them close again. The warmth from the ground was seeping into her slowly, trying to find a mid point between the numb void of her extremities losing sense, and the over-heated pressure of her injuries, but it wasn't really getting anywhere.

Something compelled her body to shift, rolling over on the panel and for a moment looking towards the rocky ceiling. Her head rolled to the side again, though, and the only thing before her vision was another assortment of broken rocks. She couldn't really feel anything properly or clearly, beyond the distant war of conflicting temperatures; couldn't even really tell if the movement had come from her, or something else. Any thoughts of the viruses surrounding her, or indeed her frightful flashbacks, has disappeared into the stunned shock that was dominating her now.

--

Watching on, Rogan had unconsciously moved from occasional glances at the PET in between doing his other preparatory work, to now holding it and focusing on the screen intently. The realisation that he was doing so didn't really register until her heard the plastic casing creak in his hand and he consciously loosened his grip on the device. He'd stopped trying to talk to Lyntael a few seconds back, when it became clear that nothing he was saying was reaching her at all.

Without really thinking about it, he analysed her behaviour; once he'd accepted that the simulations weren't her own doing, and that liked or not, the intent towards realism made them something she couldn't just choose to curtail... he'd started to pay more attention to what she was actually 'experiencing'. He still disliked the appellation, all things considered... but he'd seen this happen to the little program before. The sudden change in her behaviour had been stark, and she'd switched from looking nervous but determined, to flat out terrified and panicked, with very little around her actually changing. In earlier months he'd have dismissed that as an unrealistic flaw in the behavioural code... but looking at it now, he had to draw a different conclusion. In a human, this would be a panic attack, brought on by a past event... and all the pieces fit together for Lyntael, now. He had little doubt that the behaviours she was displaying were intended to simulate exactly that, and she simply wasn't hearing anything he tried to say, nor would until she 'calmed down'.

She was already badly damaged, but the readout on his screen was only showing general warnings; the more advanced screen had made an alert for review, but hadn't forced itself onto his screen just yet. Mostly it was only minor injuries to the extremities, and other easily patched flesh wounds.

His concerned, thoughtful analysis ended abruptly as the sparky virus happened upon her hiding place, and the gut-wrenching, inarticulate scream that followed sent him rigid for a moment. In a flash, the more advance vitals screen overtook his PET, showing her body schematic and full biological read. Just like before, Rogan cursed the design detail, when he didn't have the knowledge of a medical doctor... but even so the alerts were enough. Electrocution-induced capillary ruptures over much of her body, sever damage to fine organs, including her eyes, multiple internal ruptures and critical organ failures. Multiple myocardial infractions, leading to dangerous likelihood of cardiogenic shock. Beginning stages of circulatory shock, beginning stages of cold shock, wide-spread ligament and tissue tears... the alerts went on, and Rogan only had a vague idea what half of them meant. The amount of red on the display, however; more or less the entirety of her schematic, was enough to make his teeth clench tight.

Splitting the screen, he could see her crumpled body, the remnants of her new winter outfit badly damaged, and seeping through with read in many places. The body was twitching and convulsing as electricity remnants danced over it, seeming to conflict with the more natural charge he was used to seeing. A broad section of her leggings, from the groin down to her mid thighs, had turned a much darker colour, though he couldn't tell immediately if that was blood or just... water. It didn't matter. There were still plenty of viruses in her vicinity, and Lyntael was barely moving. She should have been crying. The thought struck him harshly and unexpected. She would normally be crying, or pleading, or begging him to let her run away, now, but there was nothing. Just shallow splutters that barely counted as breathing. His eyes darted about the screen for options. Normally she would have run; he was almost used to it, really. Seeing her run away from viruses, because she was 'scared' was something he'd been dealing with, and cursing her for, for all the months since she'd had her, and now she wasn't running away.

Forcefully, he unclenched his jaw. His finger hovered over the jack-out command, hesitating. This was why he was doing this anyway, wasn't it? The whole point of putting her through this while he worked was to expose her to it more until she stopped having these episodes. His hand shook as he watched the viruses moving. But what was she learning now? Really? The point was to push her to fight without having break downs or acting frightened. Was it really going to create any progress when she'd already had an attack? He closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath, then looked back. Again and again, he had to remind himself that this was still just a program, and he had a purpose for what he was doing. It felt hard, but that was on him; it wasn't real. The guilt was real, though. Unjustified and stupid, but still a very real feeling. One of the viruses moved and before he could think further, his finger stabbed the button to pull her out, then twice more in quick succession.

Summary
L1) (Solar+) Unaware: My Heart Falters (80Elec Barrier, Buster Charge, Off-Target1)(Overcharge -1)
L*) Passive: A Manifest Spirit: (10Elec, Nova2, A)(Overcharge -1)
L2) (Solar+)Lyntael has a physically realistic body that takes harm and damage,
L3) (Solar+)which causes her functionally real pain and genuine debilitation.
L4) (Solar+)When her body is hurt to this extreme extent, she is literally incapacitated by the damage,
L5) (Solar+)and is unable to really move or to do anything beyond cough blood, go into shock,
L6) (Solar+)and barely cling to consciousness.
L*) Her body's instinctive behaviours may continue, but they are reactionary and uncontrolled.
R*) Rogan attempts to retrieve Lyntael (escape to jack out), for actions 4, 5 and 6.

Cooldowns and Overcharge

Overcharge: Begin: +5, My Heart Falters -1, Manifest Spirit -1, End: +3

My Fear Rejected: Cooling
My Pain is Real: 1TCD
My Heart Falters: 2TCD
After witnessing the full extent of his training regime on his Navi, Rogan opted to forego what he thought was the most logical option and immediately sought for retreat. While he attempted to do so, Lyntael's systems continued to fight for her, as the destroyed panel under her fed more and more energy into her. Automatic self-preservation caused her defensive procedures to activate, creating an electrical ward about her (+5), just as the Shellgeek near her loosed an arrow towards it. (+5) While it was quite strong, it was repelled by the wildly uncontrollable surges, as did the rocket punches thrown by the faraway Ashuraid. (+5) All the while, the Sparky nearby appeared to watch for a moment (+5), appearing to be uninterested in participating in the all-out pummeling. (+5) Then, all of a sudden, it hurtled forward, its body covered with a powerful electrical charge, and smashed through what remained of her barrier, (+5) right before Rogan's frantic jack-out procedure finally completed, and Lyntael's body vanished in a flash of light, rescuing her from the cold wastes of the Sharo Net.

[Jack Out Successful!]
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((Lyntael, returning to => Rogan's Sharo Hotel))