[Salone]

Lev opened as his eyes as his body cried out in pain, the movement from being carried only exacerbating his condition. In his present state, Lev wondered if he was ascending some ladder to Heaven. However, his mind quickly cleared that from the table. He knew he had already died. He was in hell, and there was no escape. Especially by death. That's why he hadn't died in the last four years. That was why he had charged in to the group of Dybbuk. These people surrounding him, these constructs of his broken psyche, were all just conjurations in a desperate plea for companionship. He knew Hell would take them away from him eventually. They could be broken, but he could not. That is why he had done what he did. In his mind, it all made sense.

"I thank the all of you." He choked out in ragged words, still on the verge of his body letting go completely.

[Espy]

With one hand one the ladder, Dante glanced back. "For...?" Sensing that the man might actually be in trouble, the bounty hunter sighed, heaved the gunman off his shoulder, sat him against the wall, and reached for the full syringe of Water. He jabbed the needle in slightly above the heart and emptied the contents. Tossing the container to one side, he rummaged through his medkit, brought out a roll of bandage, sighed again, and starting wrapping up the now-healing wounds. It was a messy job since his vision was slowly fading, but it would have to suffice for now; at least he wouldn't bleed to death externally now, although whether the Water had been enough to fully mend the damage inside was still a mystery to Dante.

"There. I've paid you back in part."

[CupcakeDolly]

Rue nodded to the man who helped her through to the surface and promptly crawled to an empty area, lying childishly on the floor. Her arms were pulsing with blood working to make up for her injuries, and her legs could hardly support her. She took a few moments to enjoy the sensation of muscles that no longer had to support any vigorous activity. Her stomach growled ferociously and her breathing was ragged, but she was alive, and that meant that her mission was still going as planned. She ignored the activity of the others for the moment and closed her eyes, feeling herself start to drift into a doze only moments later.

[Funkduder]

"Oh no you don't," Michael called to the red cloaked woman. Although she didn't have her cloak on her, necessarily, he couldn't just call her by her name, because he didn't know it, or as his former employer, because he was never employed by her. Opening his rucksack for his rations, he tried to keep a constant conversation, to keep her from dozing off into possible comatose. "You know, for someone who looked so beautiful before, I can only wonder what down there made you look like total crap now." He passed her a chocolate bar, the only one in his week's worth of rations.
"Well it's a bit less than a week's worth after today."
"Eat up, hun. I still need you to help me since the my friend by the boxes can barely hold himself awake. By the way, Altiel," Michael said turning towards the old man, "save your energy. That battle took way too much out of you before, and there's no telling if anything else is out there."
Moving towards the manhole, again, he reached his arm down, hoping to help another one of the new visitors out of the sewer.

[Espy]

If it isn't that man from before... Dante grumbled. It should be. The aura, though faint and growing fainter by the second, was familiar. Heaving the gunman back over his shoulder, he put a foot in one rung, a hand on the other...Slowly he started to climb the ladder. Halfway up--

"Auuugh. I need help. Lend me a hand?" he grunted. His legs had made impact with the somewhat-sharp claws of Dybbuk earlier, and were now oozing what he hoped was just pus.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Shealtiel nods distractedly at Micahel and settles into a more comfortable sitting position. Ignoring the ruckus of the group clambering up from the sewer, he closes his eyes and tries to will his body to relax and restore itself.

[Funkduder]

Michael grabbed the gun man off of the shoulders of the green-eyed man, noting that the gun man had a hole in his hand wear a stake once was and that hole was quickly repairing. It took some effort, and a little help from the green-eyed man, but eventually he got the gun man onto the ground next to the red haired girl before helping the green-eyed get out of the hole.
"Holy carp and lava bass. That doesn't look pretty at all," Michael said, motioning to the man's wounded leg.

[Espy]

"Pretty or not, I..." Dante trailed off holding what was left of the first syringe of Water. "Eh. Doesn't look like this is gonna be enough. Tell you what. Since my target is still that girl, and since I'm not in any state to kill anyone right now, I'll take my lea--"

His knee gave in suddenly. "--ve. .....Or not. Meh. Seems like I'll have to leave you guys after this damn thing gets healed. For now..."

The bounty hunter crawled into a corner of the room, undid the various belts, and kicked off the boots, wincing. He tossed the heavy bullet-proof chestplate to one side, follow by his shirt and the medkit. Untying the scarf, he curled up against the wall, cat-like, hugging the scarf tightly.

"...I'm taking a nap."

[Sage]

Seeing that all the others except Fee had climbed the ladder, Jeanne glanced at the other girl before quickly ascending the ladder so that her companion wouldn't have to wait very long.

Jeanne emerged from the manhole soon after, and surveyed the area. It seemed to be a large library, which she approved of. If they stayed here for any period of time, she planned to read some of the books. But for now, she glanced at the others. They were almost all wounded and appeared drained, which confused Jeanne briefly until she remembered that they had been on the front lines, fighting, the entire time. At least the man she had healed earlier wasn't going to die on them. She didn't like to waste her time.

However, none seemed particularly open to healing. Now that the danger had passed, Jeanne was less willing to trust them, and so she found a corner and healed her own small cuts. Sitting and observing the others, she noted each's wounds and how much energy they would take to heal. Reluctantly she stood and walked over to Dante. "Your leg, can I see it?" She trusted Fee to make sure that they didn't suddenly turn on her while she was working.

[Espy]

Dante grunted in annoyance. How much help did he have to get....?! He was used to healing himself, even though the process was much slower and more painful than a theurge's.

"...Fine," he growled, pulling up the narrow pant leg, revealing a few long oozing gashes, then returned to being a curled mess. "If you want to get get any higher than that, I'd have to take my pants off," he added with a slight grin. Even exhaustion couldn't reach his jokes.

[Sage]

Jeanne frowned; it was not a pretty wound, and was probably infected. She didn't notice his joke, nor would she have laughed if she had. After all, if there were higher wounds, they would be easier to heal if she could see them. "Are there more?" she asked while taking off her gloves and sending a small wave of theurgic energy to kill the bacteria on her hands.

Unlike when she had healed Lev, these wounds weren't life-threatening, at least not yet. Jeanne could afford to take more time.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Feeling the emanations of Theurgic energy, Shealtiel opens his eyes and sees the young woman from earlier working over the blind man.

"You there, theurge," he calls. "Can you sense that? The Saint has unveiled himself. He's destroyed the Emim and is fighting the Rephaim even as we speak." He chuckles softly. "I never knew he had it in him."

[Espy]

"Nope. I think that's it. If a dybbuk bit my ass, I didn't feel it. But seriously, there was an Emim? Urgh...I really do need to improve my 'vision'..."

Dante zoned out for a bit. When he got the time, he'd have to train some more.

[Suzerain of Sheol]

Despite the fact that the blind man likely wasn't paying him any attention, Shealtiel says, "There were twelve. As I said, I have revised my opinion of our resident Saint."

[Sage]

Jeanne was startled by the old man speaking; she had thought Shealtiel was asleep. Still, she closed her eyes and concentrated. She could, in fact, sense a strong theurgic power in the distance, and with a nod she asked, "You know him?"

While she said this, she returned to Dante's wounds. If they were, as he said, the only ones, it would be a quick heal. Laying several fingers across one, she closed her eyes and pushed some of the energy she had stored up into the gash.

Any infection he may have had was killed with the first wave, and the second was directed to knit together blood vessels. Slowly the healing progressed from the deepest part to the shallowest, flesh coming back together to form a smooth surface. There was nothing to be done about the blood as she had no access to water or a cloth to soak it up.

[Serra Britt]

Feenai had planned to go up the ladder right after the red haired woman but when the man above helped them up she decided it wasn't quite so important and let the rest go first. Everyone else was wounded and she was not, aside from some soreness from when the blind man had been pushing her along. I know I found the way out, and possibly helped everyone, but I feel guilty for not getting hurt. I don't really know what I will do about this...

She wearily climbed up the ladder and saw everyone resting and tending wounds. Jeanne was helping the blind man, and there was a lot of blood all over. Feenai tore the sleeves off her shirt and started soaking up the blood. With the Network connection active she couldn't have her shields up and the surface thoughts of the others were rolling about in her head. At least they don't seem to hate me for not fighting.

After the blood had been soaked up, at least as much as the small bits of cloth would allow, she took them and tossed them in a corner and sat down facing everyone, but staring at the floor. She started thinking of what she could do to help.