The elevator door opened with a hiss. Robert exited slumped over feeling mentally exhausted. It was hard being the grounded one between his peers. He always took it upon himself to keep those around him in high spirits.

Robert picked up his pace and entered the Infirmary. He went towards the nearest Operating Room where James stood guard.

Only James remained as someone he couldn’t read. He always managed to keep himself closed off and separated from their peers.

“Here goes nothing.”

The hallway outside the infirmary was dimly lit, the sterile white walls casting cold shadows. James stood by the door, his fingers tapping anxiously against his thigh.

"I'm back," Robert said quietly. "Albert gave us orders."

"Orders?" James asked, frowning. "What did he say?"

Robert glanced around, as if ensuring no one else was listening. He exhaled sharply. "We're to keep a close watch on Edwin. Stay on guard. And—" he hesitated, jaw tightening-"strap him down."

James processed the words in silence before giving a curt nod. "The nurse we dealt with earlier is off shift.

Doctor Cenilera's inside with him."

Robert rubbed his temples. "I'll handle it. I’d like to avoid any more stress."

The infirmary was quiet-too quiet. The soft hum of machines and the steady rhythm of Edwin's heartbeat filled the room, an eerie lull that settled like dust.

Doctor Cenilera stood beside the bed, adjusting the IV drip, though her mind was clearly elsewhere. A weight lingered in her gaze, as if she carried questions she dared not voice. Across from her, Nurse Aninlie replaced the saline bag, her movements careful, almost hesitant.

Doctor Cenilera glanced over at Aninlie, she could feel the tension dragging them down. Cenilera sighed. "Monitor him closely tonight," she said softly. "Any change, no matter how small, I need to know."

Aninlie nodded, though the tension in her shoulders suggested she shared Cenilera's unease. Something about this boy—his condition, his resilience-felt... unnatural.

Before she could say anything else, the door to the infirmary slid open. Robert entered the room, his face more serious than, but something was different. He looked uneasy, as if the weight of Albert's orders had finally begun to sink in.

"Doctor," he said, voice quieter than before.

"Councilor Albert wants Edwin restrained. As a precaution."

Cenilera felt a cold wave of dread wash over her. She looked from Edwin to Robert, then back to the unconscious boy on the bed. Restraining him? The boy was barely hanging onto life, and Albert still feared him enough to request restraints?

"Is that really necessary?" she asked, keeping her voice measured. "He's stable. Restraints could stress his body further."

Robert hesitated. "Albert's orders," he said, though there was something hollow in his tone. "He says Edwin might-"

"He might what?" Cenilera pressed, her eyes now glued to Edwin.

Robert exhaled, running a hand over his face. "I don't know. But we both know Albert doesn't make requests. He makes demands."

Cenilera's jaw tightened, but she nodded. "Fine."

Robert inclined his head in thanks. "We'll take it from here."

He turned to leave, murmuring a quiet thanks to Aninlie as he exited. The door shut behind him,

leaving only the hum of machines and the weight of what had just transpired.

Cenilera released a slow, measured breath. She gestured to Aninlie. "Get the restraints."

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Aninlie hesitated, then walked to the supply closet.

The soft clink of buckles echoed in the room as she retrieved a pair of thick leather restraints, her hands trembling slightly as she handed them over.

Cenilera secured Edwin's wrists and ankles to the bedframe, fastening the straps with careful precision.

She cast one last glance at his still face, her mind swirling with doubt.

She studied him carefully. Despite his injuries, his breathing was even, his skin smooth. Too smooth. A flicker of curiosity stirred within her. Slowly, she reached down and peeled back the bandages covering his abdomen.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The wound-stitched across his stomach just hours ago-was gone. No scar. No trace of an injury. His skin was unmarked, untouched, as if he had never been harmed at all.

Her pulse quickened. This isn’t possible.

"What the..." she whispered. Disbelief coiled in her gut.

With a trembling hand, she grabbed her pager. "This is Doctor Cenilera. I need the X-ray room prepped for a patient."

The response crackled through: Twenty minutes.

Her grip tightened around the device. Twenty minutes. She just needed to wait. But as she reached for Edwin's IV to prepare him for transport, something happened that stopped her cold.

The Iv on Edwin’s hand had been removed and was lying next to him on the bed. She quickly looked at where it had been. The puncture was nowhere to be seen. No mark. No trace.

Cenilera's heart pounded against her ribs. Her breath came in shallow gasps. No. No, this isn't…

She clenched her fists. "Albert... what did you do?"

Driven by disbelief, she grabbed another needle. With deliberate caution, she pressed the tip against Edwin's forearm. Just a small prick. Just to see—

His eyes shot open.

A strangled gasp tore from her throat as Edwin surged upright, his chest heaving, his wide, furious gaze locking onto hers.

He was awake— he was angry.

———///////———

I awoke to the sharp sting of something piercing my arm. My entire body surged with overwhelming rage that pulsed through me. I shot upright, adrenaline coursing through my veins. My heart pounded, my breath came in shallow gasps, and everything felt sharper-more vivid.

I turned to my right and froze for a moment, my eyes locking onto a woman standing next to the bed. She looked startled, her expression one of surprise and concern. She had thick, dark curls that tumbled past her shoulders, framing her face. Her round glasses sat perched on a small, delicate nose, the frames slightly crooked from her hurried movements. But it was her eyes that stood out most-a warm, deep hazel that shimmered with emotion. Something about those eyes made me hesitate, just for a second.

She had a softness to her, a natural kindness etched into her features, but there was also a tension, like she was holding something back. She wore a white coat, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she took a step back from me.

"I don't know who you are," I growled, my voice colder than I expected. "But get away from me."

She flinched, her face tightening as if my words had struck her physically. Her lips parted, but nothing came out at first. Then, she spoke, in a whisper thick with emotion, she cautiously stepped away from me toward the door.

"Edwin? It's me, Lilith. Lilith Cenilera. Your big sis." She said thick with emotion.

I didn't respond. Her eyes searched mine, pleading, desperate for any flicker of recognition.

My sister?

The word felt hollow in my mind, foreign. I stared at her, waiting for something-some echo of familiarity-to rise in me. But there was nothing.

Just silence. Just emptiness. And yet... she stood there, her expression unraveling with each passing second, as if the lack of recognition was slowly breaking her apart. Yet I didn't know this woman. A strange heavy feeling washed over me, none of it made sense. Everything about this situation felt wrong-off in a way I couldn't explain. The room, the machines, and her-this supposed sister, watching me like she expected something from me. But I had nothing to give her.

It doesn’t make sense.

"I took care of you when you were little. I read books to you when you were sick. Don't you remember?" Her voice was soft, trembling slightly as if she hoped my silence would suddenly crack and open some vault of lost memories. She sounded so sure, so hopeful. But the memories she spoke of weren't there.

I clenched my jaw, my voice coming out cold and sharp. "No. I don't."

Her eyes flickered, almost as if she expected a different response. The words landed between us like heavy stones.

“Where am I?”

Her face faltered, pain flickering across her features before she whispered, "You're in the infirmary... Level 3."

Level 3?

The words sent a ripple of unease through me.

Why does that feel important? The frustration coiled tight in my chest, clawing at the edges of my mind. Nothing about this felt real-like I was trapped in someone else's nightmare.

This is probably another one of Albert’s tricks. He’s probably trying to get to me.

The thought struck hard and fast, igniting a fire inside me. The walls closed in, the machines hummed louder, and suddenly, I couldn't breathe. My pulse pounded in my ears, my muscles coiling with a rage that burned white-hot.

A wild snarl tore from my throat as I wrenched against the restraints. My arms swung as far as they could, knocking over the medical equipment with a satisfying crash. The air filled with the sound of breaking glass, though it did nothing to ease the pressure in my chest. My heart raced faster, and before I could stop myself, I roared at her, my voice filled with an anger I couldn't explain. "I'm done with your tests! Let me go!" The words erupted from me, full of fury and desperation. The restraints might have limited my movement, but my voice was raw, powerful, reverberating in the small room.

Lilith flinched, but I barely saw her anymore. My vision blurred at the edges, dark and suffocating.

Before she could respond, the door behind her slammed open.

The impact sent her sprawling to the floor. Her pager skidded across the tile, disappearing beneath the bed.

I didn't wait. The moment she was down, I ripped free from the restraints. Pain tore through my muscles, but I didn't care. The fire in my veins burned too hot, too fierce. My feet hit the floor, and I lunged toward the door-

“No you’re not!” Roared Robert.

A flurry of movement-shouts-small explosions-shadows closing in-sharp stings piercing my skin. I staggered, my vision lurching sideways. The world tilted, the walls melting into a blur of colors and noise.

Lilith's face swam before me, her lips parted in disbelief, where I had fallen.

I wanted to keep fighting. I had to keep fighting. Yet the darkness was faster and consumed me quickly.