She didn’t say anything at first.
Neither did I.
Alexis stood in front of —barefoot, pale, bruised, but unmistakably alive. Her gown was too thin for the cold lab air, the IV ports still taped to her arms, one cheek scratched and reddened from the restraints.
My breath hitched. All the words I had lined up—they slipped. I couldn’t speak.
She moved first. Not a question, not a warning—just wrapped her arms around and squeezed.
And for a mont, all the static stopped.
I felt her heartbeat against mine. Fast. Desperate.
"You’re here," she whispered. "You’re actually here."
"You too," I rasped. My throat was dry. "I thought..."
She pulled back. Looked over. Really looked.
Her fingers ghosted over my jaw, where the bruise was swelling.
"You’re injured," she said. "Badly."
I nodded once. "It’s not too bad."
She didn’t believe that. I could tell.
But then she tilted her head slightly.
"You’re... off," she murmured. "Not just hurt. ntally. You’re—you feel scrambled."
That stopped .
"Wait. How... how do you know that?"
I could understand her reading bruises, muscle strain, pulse changes. That was Biotric Insight. But my ntal state?
I squinted. Activate: Scan.
Failure: System Efficiency Compromised – Scan Request Requires Subject Approval
What?
Then I saw her.
Alexis had spaced out slightly—eyes glazed, head tilted like she was listening to sothing only she could hear.
My breath caught.
Her system interface just got the request.
A second later, she blinked and nodded. I felt the green-light ping travel back through my interface.
Scan Active. Subject: Alexis H.
And what I saw didn’t make sense.
--------
Na: Alexis Harrington
Job: dical Expert (S-Rank)
Skills:
Advanced Trauma Care (Lv. 9) – Master-level proficiency in stabilizing life-threatening injuries under extre conditions. Capable of managing compound fractures, organ trauma, and critical bleeding using improvised or minimal tools. Enables near-surgical precision under duress.
Ergency Diagnostics (Lv. 7) – Quickly identifies internal injuries, infections, and dical abnormalities through external observation, vitals, and subtle physical cues. Functions faster and more accurately than most automated scan systems.
Vital Surge (Lv. 6) – Accelerates a patient’s recovery by stimulating cell repair and immune responses. Shortens healing ti dramatically in acute situations.
Biotric Insight (Lv. 8) – Interprets micro-expressions, heart rate variability, muscle tension, and breath patterns to assess ntal states, hidden injuries, emotional stress, and truthfulness. Effective even under deception or duress.
Tactical dic (Lv. 7) – Provides combat-ready dical knowledge for high-stress environnts. Enables fast triage, patient relocation, and field treatnt under fire. Enhances movent efficiency and resource managent in hostile zones.
Stamina Reserve (Lv. 8) – Grants a deep physiological reserve of energy, allowing the user to function at high performance for long durations without rest. Maintains peak focus and endurance.
Pharmacological Engineering (Lv. 5) – Allows synthesis and modification of chemical compounds, including painkillers, stimulants, and sedatives, using available materials. Includes resistance profiling and compatibility prediction for patients.
Rapid Field Surgery (Lv. 6) – Enables instant preparation and execution of life-saving surgical procedures without full dical equipnt. Can remove shrapnel, cauterize wounds, and stabilize organs with expert precision.
Neural Sync Mapping (Lv. 4) – Detects and aligns neurological patterns between subjects and devices. Used to diagnose or counteract skill suppression, ntal interference, or neurological implants.
Cellular Reconstruction Prir (Lv. 3) – Initiates regenerative protocols in soft tissue and organ systems. Accelerates healing in damaged cells and restores biological function efficiently.
--------
I stared.
This wasn’t the sa Alexis.
"Your... job. It changed."
She gave a sheepish smile. "Yeah. I didn’t have much say in it."
"What did they do to you?"
"They gave a job title," she said, quietly. "Job rger (S-Rank). It lets combine other jobs together if they are under the sa domain."
I swallowed. My throat was dry.
"They fed artificial jobs. Nurse. Combat dic. Surgeon. Biotech Assistant. Pharmacist. All low- or mid-rank. One after another. Injected. Calibrated. Stimulated. Monitored. And every ti a job settled in, the rger tried to absorb it."
She rubbed her arm, eyes distant.
"I think they thought... that it wouldn’t make dangerous. A healer. Nothing more. Soone who stitches up holes, not pokes them."
"They were wrong," I muttered.
"I know," she said. Then, quickly: "We can talk more later. I heard footsteps when you ca in. They might be close. We need to go."
She moved toward the far wall, pulling with her by the sleeve.
Her fingers paused.
She lifted the fabric.
"Rey..."
She saw them.
The cuffs. Still clamped on. Burned from friction. Bent from the collar jam.
"We need to get these off," she said. "Now."
I nodded. No ti to argue.
Alexis scanned the corners of the room. She spotted the access vent.
"There. Help open it."
We crossed over quickly. She crouched, pressed a palm against the corner panel, and pulled out the wire grille. Behind it, a narrow maintenance shaft.
She turned to , holding out her hand. "Your wrist."
I gave her the cuffed arm. She rotated it carefully, examining the locking ring. Then pulled a flat piece of tal from the vent’s base.
"Lucky," she whispered. "Screw plate. tal’s soft."
She wedged it under the screw and twisted. Slow. Careful. The cuff shifted.
I winced but stayed still.
Another twist. A click. The screw loosened enough for her to slide the latch off its rail.
"We’ll do the other one inside the vent. Co on."
I didn’t hesitate. I crawled in after her.
The shaft was narrow, barely high enough to lift my elbows.
The tal was cold. Each movent echoed.
Alexis moved ahead, light on her palms, quiet as breath.
I followed, the pain in my body settling deeper with every shift.
But it wasn’t the bruises that weighed most.
It was what I’d seen.
What had been done to her.
The job title. The skill set. The fact that her system now processed requests like mine. That they installed rger compatibility in soone like Alexis—soone so kind, so soft-spoken, and turned her into... what? A field-grade bio-dical powerhouse?
All in less than a day.
My jaw clenched.
She kept moving. Didn’t complain. Didn’t slow down.
I could see the bruises on her back. The tremble in her knees.
And still, she crawled ahead.
"Rey?" she whispered, her voice echoing back softly.
"Yeah."
"When we find the others... promise you’ll let look at your head. You’ve got a fever. And your balance is off. And—"
"I promise."
She nodded, satisfied.
And I said nothing else.
Because inside , behind the pain and the static and the flickering skills, sothing was boiling.
Rage.
Rage at what they did to her.
Rage at how she still smiled through it.
Rage at how I hadn’t been fast enough.
I didn’t know how she stayed composed.
But as I crawled behind her through the dark, the only sound our breaths and the cold hiss of tal, I promised myself one thing:
Whoever did this to her wouldn’t be able to do it again.
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