[Raine is inclined to agree with Erskine. Anton is not all right. But he's alive and conscious, which is... something.]

I'm not sure. I...

[Deep breath. They're both still looking to her for this. Raine is struck, briefly, by the utter ludicrousness of it; there's enough centuries in the room to make up her entire projected lifespan, battle-worn soldiers both of them, and here she is, twenty-five and in many respects just beginning, but yes, the best healer her world has to offer.]

[And she's letting them down.]

I can't--

[Nope. Breath. Try again. Raine folds her hands in her lap, watches Anton. Speaks coolly and remotely, like she's talking about someone not even in the room, because that's the only way it's getting out.]

I don't know for sure. My artes use my own energy to speed and fuel my patient's own natural regenerative processes. In this case, a base healing arte resulted in what certainly appears to be somewhat of a worsening. My best guess at the moment is that this condition is caused by the body attacking itself, for whatever reason. Perhaps a defect in the genetic code. Certainly nothing I can fix at this point.

I can only assume that I...

[Raine stops there. Changes tacks, leaving the other obvious conclusion hanging in the air unsaid.]

...I can't do anything.