The mixed team assembled around a supply box that neither side wanted to surrender.
Hadi, the Aegis medic assigned to the receiving point, had already used part of his guild’s stock on people with no guild affiliation. An independent volunteer had brought a smaller clinic kit and worried that contributing it to the common pile would leave her own neighborhood with nothing.
Tessa put the inventory sheet between them, with the actual counted stock visible beside it rather than hidden beneath the table.
“We aren’t pretending everything belongs to everyone forever,” she said. “We need to know what we can use for these patients and what has to be replaced.”
Hadi named his available supplies. The volunteer named hers, including the reserve she could not commit without speaking to the clinic lead. Kellan wrote the distinction plainly. A visible reserve was not the same thing as somebody concealing stock while a patient waited.
The first shortage appeared before they finished the count. Two teams requested the same support equipment, and the shared box held only one of the appropriate size.
Hadi reached for it, then looked at the sheet. The clinic volunteer did not close the lid this time.
“Who has the immediate need?” she asked.
