Every head turned at the sudden interruption.
What they saw was nurse stood at the end of the corridor, cheeks flushed, sweat glistening on her forehead, clutching a chart to her chest as she gasped for breath.
Mika didn’t waste a second. He spun the wheelchair sharply, the wheels screeching faintly against the tile as Fauna steadied herself in his lap.
Cecilia and the other doctors fell in line behind him, their coats fluttering like banners as they ran.
"Where?" Mika demanded, his tone clipped.
"R-Room 238!" The nurse stamred, turning and leading the way.
"What’s the situation?" Fauna called, already bracing herself for the worst.
The nurse spoke between hurried breaths.
"About an hour ago a woman, thirty-four years old was admitted. Her water broke early, she went into labor. Everything looked normal at first: vitals good, no complications, healthy pregnancy. We expected a smooth delivery." Her voice shook. "But then...everything went wrong."
Mika’s eyes narrowed. "Explain."
"When the baby started to crown, its pulse began to drop. And it’s skin..." She swallowed hard. "...it’s skin turned purple and blue, like it was suffocating."
"We tried to help, but then sothing impossible happened. The baby slipped back inside during a contraction, and the color returned to normal—perfectly healthy again. But the mont the head ca out once more, it turned blue again!"
Cecilia gasped. "That’s...that’s not possible..."
The nurse nodded frantically.
"We thought it was oxygen deprivation, but it isn’t. The heart rate stabilizes inside the womb. Every ti the child enters the outside air, it starts dying. Every ti it’s pulled back in—it recovers."
"It’s...it’s like the baby can’t survive the outside world itself."
"The doctors inside have tried everything." She continued, voice trembling. "Artificially altering the contractions, oxygen control, ergency ventilation, but nothing’s working. The mother’s exhausted and in agony. We can’t keep the delivery stalled much longer."
By the ti she finished, they had already reached the door marked 238—Ergency Delivery.
The muffled chaos inside was unmistakable. Voices barking orders, machines beeping, the mother’s cries echoing faintly.
Fauna’s eyes widened slightly.
"A child that heals inside the womb and dies outside..." She murmured. "I’ve never heard of such a thing." She turned toward Mika, searching his face. "What do you think, Mika? Have you seen a case like this before?"
He shook his head, frowning deeply.
"No. Not once. Sothing like this shouldn’t even exist." He exhaled sharply. "We’ll know only after we see the readings for ourselves."
Without another word, he rolled forward. Cecilia and the others followed in silence.
They entered the observation hall—a narrow space beside the main operating room. Cecilia slapped her palm against the control panel on the wall, and the opaque glass turned translucent, revealing the scene within.
A dozen doctors were moving around frantically inside the room, their movents blurring under the harsh white lights. Nurses darted between machines, passing instrunts back and forth.
The monitor screens flashed rapidly changing numbers, all fluctuating wildly.
On the operating table lay the mother, pale and drenched in sweat, her hair plastered to her face. She was half-conscious, whispering her husband’s na between weak sobs as she clutched the sheet.
Her belly convulsed under the tension of halted contractions.
Outside, in the corridor, a man paced back and forth like a ghost, hands shaking, eyes red. When he saw Fauna, he collapsed to his knees, clutching her lab coat.
"Lady Fauna! Please—please save them! They’re all I have! My wife, my baby—please!"
Fauna leaned over, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.
"We’ll do everything we can. The best doctors in this hospital are here." Her voice was calm, gentle, but firm. "But you need to stay calm for them. Take a seat. Let us handle this, alright?"
The man nodded shakily as two nurses guided him to a bench.
At that mont, the doors to the operation room slid open, and several doctors rushed out, still in their gowns and masks.
The instant they saw Fauna, they froze for a heartbeat—eyes widening in shock at the sight of her sitting comfortably in Mika’s lap on the wheelchair.
But the ergency snapped them out of it.
"Lady Fauna!" One of them exclaid. "Thank goodness you’re here."
"Report." Fauna ordered briskly.
The lead surgeon nodded quickly, fumbling through the data pad in his hand.
"The patient’s na is Arienne Vale. Thirty-four years old, first pregnancy. Blood pressure stable, oxygen saturation 93%. The fetus is full term, positioned correctly, no umbilical strangulation detected."
"But whenever the head breaches the cervix and makes contact with open air, the heart rate drops to 20 BPM, oxygen saturation crashes, and cyanosis sets in within seconds."
"But the mont the head retracts—everything normalizes. It’s like the child can’t exist outside the womb."
He scrolled through the holographic chart and added,
"We’ve checked for oxygen-flow obstruction, amniotic embolism, maternal hypoxia, umbilical torsion—but nothing explains it. But we did find a little mana residue."
Fauna’s face darkened. "Magical residue?"
"Yes." Another doctor said quickly. "There’s a faint anomalous reading—an unclassified mana signature around the uterus. We thought it was an equipnt error, but now..."
"A mana reaction...at birth?" Cecilia’s hand went to her mouth.
Mika’s eyes narrowed, his mind already racing.
"Show the resonance chart." He said quietly.
One of the doctors projected a floating hologram of the mana graph in front of him. The lines spiked wildly whenever the fetal crown erged, then flattened the mont it retreated.
"This isn’t a natural reaction." Mika’s voice dropped.
Fauna glanced at him, recognizing that tone—the one he used when he was piecing together sothing that defied explanation.
"What are you thinking?"
He didn’t answer yet. He leaned forward, eyes tracing the ssy readings as his mind connected invisible dots, while the muffled sound of the mother’s cries bled through the glass wall.
In this day and age, complications in pregnancy caused by mana interference—especially after the collision of the two worlds weren’t exactly unheard of.
Rare, yes. But not impossible.
Ever since mana began seeping into the mortal realm, countless research papers and dical guidelines had docunted its unpredictable influence on human biology.
For the blessed or those born with mana circulation, it was a gift—a source of strength, healing, and longevity.
But for ordinary mortals, mana was a double-edged sword.
Too much exposure could distort the natural equilibrium of the body, leading to cellular instability, genetic mutations, or even mana poisoning.
In the early decades following the collision, stillbirths, miscarriages, and fetal malformations had beco alarmingly frequent.
Pregnant won who even briefly ca into contact with unstable mana fields often found their babies affected by it. So were born prematurely with abnormal organ developnt; others couldn’t survive a single breath outside the womb.
That was why, over the years, rigorous protocols were enforced—monthly screenings for mana residue, mandatory diagnostic scans for anyone living near convergence zones, and specialized prenatal wards equipped with mana filtration fields.
Those asures had drastically reduced the risks to the extent that such cases were none existent and the baby was always delivered without any issue.
Which was exactly why this case was so alarming.
The woman, Arienne Vale, wasn’t an explorer or a mage. She wasn’t a researcher or an adventurer who dabbled in cross-world studies.
She was an accountant. Soone who lived an utterly mundane life, far from mana zones, working in a small firm within the capital.
Her dical records were also spotless. Every single prenatal test—from mana presence to toxin panels—had co back negative.
No traces of contamination. No exposure to otherworldly particles.
And yet, now, the readings showed sothing deeply unsettling: a faint, nearly imperceptible level of internalized mana.
But what chilled Mika the most wasn’t the presence of mana...it was its nature.
It wasn’t external. It wasn’t sothing that had entered her body.
It felt like sothing within her—sothing dormant that had suddenly begun reacting to mana in the air. Sothing that shouldn’t have existed inside a human in the first place.
He silently scrolled through the mother’s diagnostics, analyzing every detail while the team around him exchanged worried looks.
But then th senior physicians, who monts ago had spoken to him as an equal, were now realizing they were dealing with soone far younger—and that realization made their unease grow.
Finally, one of them turned to Fauna nervously.
"L-Lady Fauna, if I may ask...who exactly is this boy? Should he even be here right now?"
Before Fauna could reply, Cecilia’s voice cut through like a whip.
"He stays." She said sharply, her tone leaving no room for argunt. "You’ll listen to him and do exactly as he says. Whatever he asks for, you’ll provide."
"He’s not just a bystander—he’s soone whose word you follow without hesitation. Understood?"
Her fierce expression made even the senior doctors stiffen.
Fauna, smiling faintly at her disciple’s newfound confidence, added gently,
"Cecilia’s right. Do as Mika says. If he gives an order, follow it to the letter. I promise, everything will be fine."
The staff exchanged bewildered glances. Whoever this boy was, the fact that both Lady Fauna and her top disciple treated him with such deference was enough to silence any doubts.
"Ahhhh! It hurts! It hurts so much! My baby!!!!"
Inside the operating room, the mother scread again, a piercing cry that rattled the air. The baby’s vitals flickered red on the monitor.
"Artificial inhibitor won’t hold much longer!" One of the obstetricians shouted.
Fauna’s expression hardened. "We’re running out of ti."
They all gathered around the holo-projection, reviewing the readings again, but the more they looked, the less sense it made.
The anomaly was unlike anything in recorded dical history. Every second the team spent debating felt like sand slipping through their fingers.
Then, suddenly—
"I got it."
Everyone turned toward Mika.
Fauna perked up imdiately, hope flashing in her eyes. "You figured it out?"
"Not entirely." Mika said, still scanning through the data. "But I have a strong suspicion. I just need to confirm sothing first."
He rolled the wheelchair forward, stopping in front of the terrified husband who was still sitting near the bench.
The man looked startled as the young boy in a wheelchair addressed him with an unexpectedly calm tone.
"Mr. Daniel, during your wife’s pregnancy..." Mika asked. "...did you ever travel to the other world? Or anywhere close to it? Any exposure to mana zones, even brief?"
The man blinked, confused, shaking his head quickly.
"Of course not! The doctors warned us about that. We stayed in the capital the whole ti. I didn’t even let her near the outer gates where the portals open!"
Mika’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"Not during pregnancy then." He said slowly. "But what about before that?"
The man hesitated. His brows furrowed.
"What I’m asking is, before she was pregnant..." Mika continued gently. "...did you or your wife ever visit the other world? Maybe for work? Or even...a trip?"
The man’s eyes widened as realization dawned. He looked stricken. "...Our honeymoon."
The doctors glanced at one another.
"Yes." The man said shakily, clutching his head. "It was years ago—we spent our honeymoon in the Spectra Highlands. Two weeks there. We thought it would be romantic. She wasn’t pregnant back then, so we didn’t think it mattered..."
His voice trembled. "Don’t tell —you’re saying that’s what’s causing this? That...because of that trip...my wife is suffering now?"
Mika looked at him quietly for a mont, his expression unreadable.
Behind his calm eyes, however, gears were turning rapidly—connecting pieces of the puzzle and everything he’d studied about mana-biological interactions, while everyone else except Fauna and Cecilia were already starting to lose hope
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