I doubt you'll care about my sappy tale of woe, but sure, gather 'round. I was born into some shithole kingdom cosplaying imperial China.

My career choices from my past life don’t add up—One side says “you were a doctor,” the other half's like: “nah you dealt drugs, dumbass.”

In any case, I'm Malady now. Don't ask. The royal family’s dropping dead from an illness no one can cure. Not that I give a shit. Actually, never tell a soul but I do for one of 'em.

Thaia of the Wall—the only one worth saving is sick and I owe her my life. Least I can do is use what’s in my head—dealer, doc, whatever—to save her.

Thaia tells me: “There’s ability in every disability.”

I call Bullshit. She's coping hard. Or maybe not. Let’s find out.