Thread: Old Heroes Never Die (Cororu and I)

A recent storm had damaged many sectors of Cape Town. The winds were a thing to behold. Gusting at well over 60 miles per hour, trees, street signs and lamp posts, and even bits of homes were ripping off. Then, the floods came. With the terrible winds came the terrible storm, and in dark maelstrom of debris, garbage, and even people, the rains flooded the many districts of Cape Town. Sewage poured from the underground pipes from the excess water, co-mingling with the rain water on the surface. Children were lost, swept away in the murky waters flooding the streets. The parents who watched their children die were the lucky ones they had closure. There those, even now, who pray for the children's safe return. If there is ever a God, they did not respond now. And with the latest reports, the current estimated loss is nearly 50,000. Nurses gather around the television, hearing the latest reports on the casualties. The anchors spare no detail death of children, the new number of homeless, numbers of schools and hospitals made unfit for use, and the amount of historic buildings now inhabitable. A few nurses cry and a few sigh. As the death toll rises, we remember that most of them are children. Our thoughts and prayers to the parents. This ENCA news wi- The television abruptly turns off, and a firm Swedish accent, one of the lead doctors enters the break room. Your tears will not bring back the dead nor will they heal wounds. What will help is bandages, sutures, and hard work! I can't have half my team watching television while we need continuous medical aid! Dr. Angela Ziegler, lead medical officer of the World Health Organization, is leading this emergency response team. She currently oversees a team of doctors, nurses, paramedics, and chemists. As she steps out from the tent that is the make-shift break room, she checks her clipboard. From there, she directs teams of nurses to various tents to further treat the wounded. Several citizens have developed serious festering wounds and internal infections from prolonged exposure to contaminated waters. Every so often, Angela, herself, directs and participates in a few treatments. Physicians are few, and there is a great need for immediate action. Angela is doing her best to smile for the patients, but fatigue is wearing on her. She has had little sleep - if it may be so called that. Fueled only by a series of short naps, Angela has been the first to respond, the first to delegate and manage, but the last to rest. Still yet more, rest must wait. Doctor Ziegler! Doctor! This man is brought to us ashore. A small team of paramedics carry in a wounded person. Though, at first glance, there is no difference between this new patient and the thousands of others. Angela takes a quick look at her clipboard. Tent five is available, I think. Double check with Dunstan. Doctor, the paramedic makes motions towards the torso, he needs to be seen now! I'm very busy. There are thous- I think he's been shot. Angela quickly lowers her clipboard. She needs to see for herself if these are indeed gunshot wounds or merely superficial injuries sustained from sharp debris. She thinks to only give a quick look. She believes it a simple case of a quick diagnosis and then delegating the treatment to one of the other physicians. However, this is nothing quick. She looks upon the wound and then to the face. Mask or not, she knows this physique and this body. Get him to my tent now! The paramedics move 76 towards Angela's tent. Both a makeshift office and ICU, the tent is a quick solution to stabilizing a patient until more serious help could be had from either a hospital or - if the situation is so severe - from Angela's own personal nanobiomolecular treatment. In this case, it is the latter. Walkre! Aktivieren! Angela throws her labcoat onto the messy desk. In an excellent feat of engineering, her valkyrie suit adons itself upon her body. With a quiet whirr of cogs and hard-light technology, she preps herself to administer Jack's treatment personally. First, she looks upon the wounds to check their severity. Blood loss still ongoing. Prep for fluoroquinolones post-treatment. Administer iodine. Prepare to begin. A chemist immediately preps a prescription ready for after use. A nurse quickly strips Jack's outer clothing. Angela aims a miniature version of her staff toward Jack. It emits a familiar golden beam that gently injects temporary nanomachines to mend the wounds. At the same time, Angela continuously inspects the wound, adjusts the intensity of the minature Cadeucus staff, and maintains Jack's vitals. C'mon, Jack. You've been through worse. You're not dying like this. Not with me here! Helden sterben nicht!