The sharp sting of the needle broke his peace, and Jude winced through the pesky pain. The fog that had hung over him for days was lifting, the world around him becoming clearer, sharper. But still, he couldn't grasp the extent of this new reality that wasn't as simple as he would like it to be.

He blinked, taking in the sterile room, the soft hum of machines, and the rhythmic beeping beside him. His arm, heavy in a cast, throbbed faintly.

A nurse around him worked quickly but with care. She wiped the spot where the needle had pricked him and pressed a small bandage over the mark.

“What is it?” Jude asked.

“Vaccine,” she replied without looking up.

Jude frowned. “How many have you given me already?”

“Only 27,” she said with a soft smile as if they were discussing something as routine as a flu shot. “You’re still missing a few.”

Jude's voice dropped, the question almost rhetorical, “Because the body is new?”

"You mean the sleeve?" The nurse chuckled softly, though her attempt at humour fell flat. “Yes, we usually advise people to get vaccinated before venturing forward. It would be a shame if someone didn’t make it out of the phantom zone because of a silly little flu or rabies. And besides, after disconnection, there are other symptoms that are more worrisome than that. We prevent as we can, right?”

Jude raised an eyebrow, the joke barely registering. “Has that ever happened?”

"The flue?" She paused for a beat, shaking her head with a sheepish grin. “No... I was just trying to be funny.” The joke hung awkwardly in the air as she reached for her stethoscope. "Better not quit my day job, I see."

Without another word, she pressed the cold metal against Jude’s chest. “Breathe.”

Jude drew in a slow, deep breath, feeling the tightness in his lungs as he exhaled. The nurse moved quickly, jotting down notes with the same quiet efficiency, her focus already shifting back to her to-do list.

"What are you?" he blurted, the question hanging awkwardly between them.

The nurse paused, puzzled for a moment, before responding with a slight tilt of her head. "I'm a nurse," she said, her tone gentle but unsure of where he was going.

He shook his head. "No, I mean... are you like..."

Finally understanding, she smiled softly, a knowing glint in her eyes. "I’m human," she said, her voice warm with amusement. "But I get it. They, the friends, have cool ears—like elves, right?"

"How do you know if someone’s not human? Besides the ears," he asked, his curiosity now fully piqued. "My wife... she has round ears. ... I think she is one of them."

The nurse moved around Jude’s bed, her hands busy adjusting machines, checking his IV, and scribbling notes on her chart. She spoke like she was discussing something as mundane as a weather change.

“Well… medically, they aren’t all that different. A few internal things, like placement, but the blood’s still red, same groups. Breathing and nerves are basically the same system. Their hearts? Identical,” she said, giving him a quick glance as she adjusted his blanket. “But they do look different. Paler, almost grey, with those cool, elf-like ears, beautiful hands and tails. Just like fantasy creatures.”

Jude shifted slightly on the bed. “Tails?”

The nurse’s lips curved into a small smile. “Yeah, tails. They remind me of kangaroo tails, though not as strong. Some are born with them, and some aren’t. Just depends. It’s like us—some of us have blue eyes, longer or shorter fingers, a tongue tie or not. It’s all a genetic lottery.”

“And they all have four fingers, right?”

She nodded. “Yep, no pinkie. Guess they evolved past it—it’s just dead weight for anyone. I remember the first time when I learned all of it, and I almost lost it.” She laughed nervously. Almost eerily.

Jude watched her, curious, as she moved about the room.

“It’s hard,” she continued, “to see a world that isn’t threatening anymore when you’ve been taught to fear everything in it. But when you finally get it, when you let that fear go… it’s liberating.”

Jude mumbled, half to himself, "Liberating?" His brow furrowed as he scoffed, “Apes eating people and land scanners ready to slice open your skull for a lobotomy? That’s what you call liberating?”

"It’s a new world, Mr James. We’re doing the best with what we have," she explained as if she'd rehearsed that line a thousand times.

Jude’s gaze dropped to his hand, the familiar twinge of pain darting. "What about my finger… did you...?"

Before she could answer, the door creaked open, and Lazaro stepped in, his casual outfit—camo pants and a loose green shirt—making him look strangely out of place. Somehow, Jude got used to seeing him in his black-tight jumpsuit.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

His hair was tied back in a messy bun, and without missing a beat, he sat on the edge of Jude’s bed, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Nope,” Lazaro said before the nurse could reply, a playful smirk on his face. “Your finger’s still in a jar for my collection. How are you holding up?” Lazaro asked, his tone more serious now.

"Why so many fucking vaccines? Seriously... I feel like a fucking voodoo doll."

Lazaro chuckled. “Protocol. They’re mandatory, especially for when you disconnect... and yeah, they never really end,” he added, the grin on his face widening just a little as if amused by the absurdity of it all.

Jude's brow furrowed, a protest already forming on his lips. “But I’m not—”

Lazaro cut him off. “You’re still connected, Jude. Your body’s in a pod, all hooked up—wires, machines—keeping you alive and connected to the SiC.”

Jude's mind raced to grasp fully whatever was happening to him. “I die... I get disconnected. Is that right?”

“Yeah...” Lazaro nodded, watching Jude closely. "And your sleeve becomes your full-time body... 100%."

Jude’s lips twisted into a bitter smirk. “And I live here... here, in this la-la-land?” He said, dripped with sarcasm.

"I think you know better than that... It's not really... you know...," Lazaro said, stopping himself to not say too much. "But, yeah... it’s a hard pill to swallow."

"I was not given the choice of a blue or red to swallow."

Lazaro's grin faded entirely, replaced by something more serious, a shadow crossing his face. “I saw people—people who really struggled with it. Some just couldn’t take it. They didn’t make it at all. It was... a dark time. Not really a fan of talking about it.”

“What happened?” Jude asked, almost hesitant, sensing there was more beneath the surface than Lazaro let on.

“Some... their brains just melted. Literally. Others... well, I don’t need to spell it out for you,” he said, his words trailing off. "But there was a war, Jude. Just... not the one we were led to believe. And that war is not over yet."

Jude shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "All the answers are in the Arena?" he asked.

Lazaro nodded, his expression unreadable.

He sat on the bed and leaned back slightly, his smirk returning but with less warmth this time. “Yeah, Len can give you those answers too. But... I think it’s better to find them for yourself instead of having someone spoon-feed them. I’ve lived through it—I was there when everything went down. But hearing me explain it? It’d sound like some cheesy sci-fi flick.”

Jude shifted again, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “So I should just go to the Arena? Easy peasy? That sort of shit. You're sending me on a pilgrimage to find myself?”

"There’s Lucy,” Lazaro muttered. “She could disconnect at any moment... And she is not ready yet.”

Jude shrugged, almost dismissive. “So what?”

Lazaro’s expression shifted, “There’s no way to tell... how she’ll disconnect.”

Jude sat up straighter, “What do you mean?” His brow furrowed. “If she dies here, she just... wakes up there, right?” His words stumbled, suddenly unsure.

“Jude,” Lazaro began, his voice strained, “Lucy’s dying. Like literally dying wherever she is right now, she held by a thread.”

The words hit Jude like a blow, knocking the breath from his lungs. “What do you mean she’s dying?”

“She’s really ill,” Lazaro said, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I don't know the specifics, but that’s why she was chosen from among all the other kids. She has a genetic marker... that makes her sick.”

“Chosen? For what?”

Lazaro sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. “Her original body and the sleeve she has here... they’re not the same as ours. The genetic markers that made her sick—they've been altered, removed, if you want. Her sleeve has... her genetic map has been modified. Enough to prevent her from getting sick but not enough to turn her into another person. At least that is what we hope... but we only know for sure when she... disconnect.”

He glanced up, “We had to boost her growth hormones as well. We can’t create a simple baby here; the genetic code is too volatile, and we would end up making another clone. The youngest sleeve we can create is an eight-year-old who has to reach the threshold where their genetic code stabilizes.”

Jude stared at him, the pieces slowly clicking into place. “So... all this accelerated growth... it’s to save her? That's why she is rushing to level up. That's why she is changing so fast?”

Lazaro nodded solemnly. “She needs to reach a certain point to have a chance. Time isn’t on her side. Do you understand now?”

“What do we need to do? How long does she have?"

“It depends on too many things,” Lazaro said. “She’s growing fast here, but her original body... who knows how much time she really has left? And her first death, Jude... we don’t know how she’ll handle it. If Len hadn’t brought me back,” Lazaro continued, “I wouldn’t be standing here. I’d be gone.”

“So... I should take her to Len?”

"If Len wakes up," Lazaro reminded Jude. "Last time, it took a full month."

Jude ran a hand through his sweaty hair, brushing off strains from his face, trying to grasp the enormity of what Lazaro was saying. "But why is it so important? Shouldn’t we just—just wake her up?" he asked as if even he wasn’t sure what he was trying to ask.

Lazaro paused, then finally met Jude’s eyes. "Len’s abilities..." he began. "It’s like someone explaining why the sky is blue for the first time. You don’t get it until you see it for yourself. You have to experience it to believe it."

Jude’s lips twisted into a small smirk. "I’m starting to realize... maybe wanting to know everything at once isn’t exactly a great idea," he muttered, half amused, half resigned. "Right? Like, know the meaning of life, the universe, and everything."

"42. Easy question." Lazaro cracked a grin, a flicker of approval in his eyes. "You’ve been handling all this shit pretty well so far. This? Just a hiccup." He shrugged, and then his gaze grew more serious. "But I think you need to have a conversation."

Jude raised an eyebrow. “With who?”

Lazaro nodded toward the door, his grin returning. “Her."

Lucy appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, her hands stuffed in her pockets. “Me?” she asked. “I think it’s time we decide where we’re headed next. What's the next quest?”

Jude smirked, not missing a beat. “Looks like we need to wake up a princess.”

Lucy’s expression hardened slightly, her brow furrowing. “She’s not a princess. And she’s just... sleeping. She can't help me... us” Her tone was matter-of-fact, but there was something sharper underneath. “I need to level up. And so do you.”

Her eyes locked onto his, a challenge welcoming in her gaze. “Don’t you want to know how this all started? If I fail... at least I want the full story. I hate cliffhangers!”

“The Arena?” Jude asked, his brow raised, half-expecting some resistance.

“Sounds cool to me; I want front row”, Lucy shot back, her voice steady, almost excited. "And if we can find popcorn, that would be great."

They both turned to Lazaro. He let out a small, resigned sigh, a hint of amusement crossing his face. “Why not? We’ll unlock each cell, see if anything’s gone rogue... face whatever challenges come our way.” His lips twisted into a smirk. “All to end up in an abandoned Arena forgotten for decades. Sounds like a quest for a lifetime, doesn’t it?”

Jude couldn’t help but grin, eyes narrowing with playful intent. “You gonna wear your sexy suit for it for the trip, aren't you?”

Lazaro’s smirk widened. “You bet your ass I will.”

image [https://i.imgur.com/WR1a1wR.png]