Charlotte wasted no ti as soon as she entered the dical wing. The environnt was already prepared for critical cases, but what she needed to do wasn’t a routine procedure, so she began to reorganize everything with quick, precise movents.
The briefcase was placed on the main table, the tal latches opening with a dry snap, revealing an organized set of instrunts, vials, reagents, and analytical devices.
Nothing there was improvised, but it wasn’t sothing she used every day either.
Her gaze was completely focused, devoid of any distraction, as if everything else had been erased at that mont.
Serafall stood a few steps behind, observing silently. Her expression was restrained, but not calm. There was tension there, pressing beneath the surface, ready to explode at any mont if sothing went wrong.
She crossed her arms, but it wasn’t a relaxed posture, it was restraint. Charlotte knew this, but didn’t comnt. It wasn’t the ti.
Natasha remained lying on the bed beside her, her body weak, her breathing assisted by the mask that filtered the air with a faint, continuous sound.
Her condition was visibly worse than before. Her skin was pale, her chest rising and falling with difficulty, as if each breath were a conscious effort. Ti was not on their side.
Charlotte began separating the blood collected from Victor into small, controlled samples.
The liquid was slightly darker than expected, but that wasn’t what first caught her attention.
She took a pipette, isolated a drop, and transferred it to a glass slide, preparing it for microscopic analysis. The movents were automatic, practiced, but her attention was entirely focused.
She adjusted the microscope, positioned the slide, and brought her eye close to the lens.
Silence filled the room for a few seconds.
Serafall didn’t ask anything.
Charlotte didn’t speak imdiately either.
But sothing changed.
Her body stiffened for a mont, almost imperceptible, but enough to indicate that what she was seeing... was unexpected.
She adjusted the focus.
Then again.
And stared for a few more seconds.
"This..." she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else.
Serafall narrowed her eyes slightly. "What is it?"
Charlotte didn’t answer imdiately. She pulled her face away from the microscope, picked up another slide, repeated the process even more carefully, as if trying to confirm it wasn’t a reading error. She prepared another sample, positioned it, adjusted the focus again.
She looked.
And this ti it took longer.
Much longer.
Serafall stepped forward. "Charlotte."
She finally answered, but without taking her eyes off the lens. "This isn’t RH Null."
The silence that followed was imdiate.
Serafall frowned. "What do you an it isn’t?"
Charlotte slowly stepped away from the microscope, her gaze still fixed on the slide, as if trying to process it before explaining. "I... I don’t know how to explain it properly," she said, with a rare honesty in her tone. "But this isn’t the RH Null pattern. Not even close."
Serafall crossed her arms tighter. "Then explain what it is."
Charlotte shook her head slightly. "I can’t explain it just by talking," she said. "You need to see it."
She made a short gesture, indicating the microscope.
Serafall hesitated for a second.
But she went over.
She leaned in, positioned her eye on the lens, and adjusted the focus as Charlotte had done before.
And then she saw.
At first, it looked normal. Blood cells, basic structure... but sothing was wrong. Or rather, different. Very different.
The cells weren’t static.
They were moving.
Not in the literal sense, but in behavior. Reorganizing themselves, replicating... too fast. Very fast. Cell division was happening at an absurd rate, almost impossible to follow with the eye. It was like watching sothing accelerate beyond what should be possible.
"That..." Serafall murmured, without taking her eye off the lens.
Charlotte crossed her arms, observing her reaction. "You see?" she said. "Constant active regeneration. It’s not a response to damage. It’s the baseline state."
Serafall blinked a few tis, still looking. "That’s not normal," she said.
"No," Charlotte replied. "It’s not."
She approached the table again, picking up another vial. "But that’s not all."
Charlotte prepared another slide, this ti using a small sample of Natasha’s blood. The liquid was clearer, visibly weaker, with clear signs of deterioration. She placed the drop next to Victor’s sample on the sa slide, careful not to mix them directly imdiately.
Serafall stepped away from the microscope to observe.
Charlotte pushed the slide back into the equipnt.
"Look at this," she said.
Serafall looked again.
At first, the two samples were separate.
And then...
Victor’s blood reacted.
There was no gradual mixing. No slow adaptation. It was imdiate.
Victor’s cells surged forward.
Swallowed.
Literally.
Natasha’s blood was absorbed, dominated, destroyed, and integrated in a matter of seconds. No resistance remained. There was no balance. It was complete consumption.
Serafall slowly pulled her face away from the microscope.
The silence grew heavy.
Charlotte spoke first. "It doesn’t just regenerate," she said. "It dominates."
Serafall stared at the slide for a second, her gaze more serious now. "Does that an...?"
Charlotte answered without hesitation. "It ans that anything incompatible will be forced to adapt... or it will be destroyed."
The silence returned.
Heavier.
More direct.
Serafall crossed her arms, looking at Natasha from afar.
Charlotte continued. "This might cure her," she said. "But not in the way you’re thinking."
Serafall didn’t answer.
Charlotte finished. "This won’t treat the disease," she said. "It will replace her system."
Serafall turned her face slowly. "And the risk?"
Charlotte didn’t soften. "Ninety-nine percent chance of death."
The silence that followed wasn’t short.
Nor light.
Serafall stood still for a few seconds, looking at the floor, then at Natasha, then at the blade.
Thinking.
Not about alternatives.
But about the decision.
Charlotte didn’t say anything.
She already knew there was no other real option.
After a few seconds, Serafall spoke.
"Fuck it."
The word ca out low.
But loaded.
She looked up.
"Inject this shit."
Charlotte didn’t react with surprise.
She just nodded.
"Okay."
She was already moving even before the order had finished being processed. She prepared the syringe precisely, isolating the necessary amount, adjusting the dosage with extre care. There was no margin for error. Not at that level.
Serafall approached the bed, standing beside Natasha, her gaze fixed on her.
"You’re going to survive," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else.
Charlotte didn’t comnt.
She finished preparing, holding the syringe firmly, checking the composition one last ti before approaching.
"This is going to hurt," she said, more out of habit than necessity.
Natasha didn’t answer.
She wasn’t conscious enough for that.
Charlotte positioned the needle.
She took a deep breath.
And injected.
The liquid entered Natasha’s body slowly.
And for a second—
Nothing happened.
Then—
Her body reacted.
Imdiately.
Her muscles tensed, her chest clenched for an instant before she gasped violently, as if her entire system were being forced to reboot. Her heart rate soared on the monitors, her vital signs spiraling out of control.
Charlotte took a step back.
"Shit." She muttered—
The effect quickly spiraled out of control.
Natasha’s body, which had previously been weak and almost inert, reacted violently as soon as the blood finished flowing into her system. First ca a slight, almost imperceptible spasm, like a communication error between muscles and nerves. In less than a second, it escalated into sothing much worse.
Her entire body arched on the bed, her muscles contracting with uncoordinated force while her breathing completely failed. The monitor triggered continuous alerts, her heart rate jumping irregularly, outside any acceptable pattern.
The seizure ca soon after, without any smooth transition. It was direct, brutal. Her body began to tremble intensely, uncontrollably, as if sothing inside her was fighting to take over.
Her arms slamd against the bed fra, her fingers contorting into forced positions, while her jaw locked and unlocked involuntary movents. It was not a common reaction to any known treatnt.
And then the blood began to flow.
First through the nose, in a thin stream that quickly intensified. Then through the mouth, mixed with her ragged breathing, creating a wet, irregular sound.
Then, through the eyes, red tears streaming uncontrollably. Even through the ears, in small amounts indicating that the internal pressure had exceeded any safe limit.
Serafall imdiately moved forward, her expression shifting from controlled tension to sothing more direct, more unstable.
"What the hell is this?!" her voice ca out heavy, without any attempt to remain calm.
Charlotte was already moving, but not with ready answers. Her gaze swept over Natasha’s body, trying to identify patterns, trying to fit it into so kind of dical logic that simply didn’t exist at that mont.
"I don’t know!" she replied, without hesitation, her voice louder than usual. "I’m a doctor, not a psychic!"
Serafall ignored the tone, focusing only on the situation. She tried to hold Natasha’s body, pressing her shoulders against the bed to prevent her from hurting herself further with the uncontrolled movents. But the mont she made contact—
Sothing was wrong.
It wasn’t just physical strength.
It wasn’t just a seizure.
It was... energy.
Serafall felt it.
The touch brought an imdiate sensation, like touching sothing being rebuilt from the inside out. Natasha’s body wasn’t simply reacting. It was changing. The internal structure vibrated in a strange, dense way, as if every cell was being forced to reorganize itself at the sa ti.
Serafall’s eyes widened slightly, her perception adjusting rapidly. "She...," she began, her tone shifting, becoming more focused. "She’s undergoing body reconstruction!"
Charlotte turned her face away imdiately. "Reconstruction what?!"
But Serafall wasn’t explaining anymore, she was reacting. Natasha’s body tried to rise amidst the seizure, as if sothing inside her was forcing movent independent of her will. Serafall pressed harder, keeping her on the bed with increasing difficulty.
Charlotte wasted no more ti trying to understand at that mont. She quickly turned to the briefcase, opening a side compartnt and pulling out a specific vial. "I’m going to sedate her," she said, already preparing a new syringe with quick, precise movents. "If this continues at this rate, her body won’t be able to handle the process itself!"
Serafall didn’t respond, but maintained control of Natasha’s body, even as the force increased inconsistently. The spasms were becoming more violent, more intense, as if reaching a peak.
Charlotte returned in a few seconds, syringe ready in hand, approaching the bed again.
But before she could administer it—
Sothing changed.
Abruptly.
The blood that had flowed began to stop.
Not gradually.
Instantaneously.
The flow ceased, as if it had been cut off.
And then—
It began to return.
Not like liquid being pulled by gravity or absorbed slowly. The blood on the floor, on the bed, on Natasha’s face... began to move against logic. Small currents ford, returning to her body, being pulled back through the sa orifices from which they had exited.
Charlotte froze mid-movent.
The syringe still in her hand.
Not injected.
Her eyes fixed on the scene ahead.
"This..." she murmured, unable to finish.
Serafall also noticed, but didn’t release Natasha imdiately. Her body was still tense, still reacting, but the intensity of the convulsion began to decrease as the blood returned.
The process was quick.
Too quick.
In a matter of seconds, there was no more blood outside her body.
Everything had been reintegrated.
And then—
It stopped.
Natasha’s body relaxed completely.
Her muscles loosened.
Her breathing stabilized.
The monitor, which had previously been in absolute chaos, began to normalize at a rate too fast to be considered natural.
Serafall was still holding her, but now without resistance.
Charlotte took a step back, still holding the syringe, unsure whether she should continue or not.
A heavy silence fell over the room.
It lasted a few seconds.
And then Natasha moved.
Not with a spasm.
Not in pain.
But consciously.
Her hand rose to her throat, touching her own neck as if checking if she was still there. Her breathing ca clean, deep, without any difficulty.
She opened her eyes.
She blinked a few tis. And then she spoke, her voice still slightly confused.
"Holy shit... I had a dream~"
Her tone didn’t match the situation.
Not at all.
Serafall was still holding her, her gaze completely fixed, trying to process what had just happened.
Charlotte stood beside them, her hand still holding the syringe, but trembling slightly now, sothing unusual for her.
Natasha looked from one to the other.
Her expression still sowhat lost.
Until she realized.
The atmosphere.
Their state.
The tension in the air.
"Whoa..." she murmured, her tone changing slightly.
She looked at her own hands.
Then at her body.
No pain.
No weakness.
Nothing.
She slightly raised her torso, still touching her neck, as if trying to confirm that it was real.
"It wasn’t a dream~"
User Comments
0 comments from readers