Dr. Kwon stood beside Callum’s hospital bed, closely examining the steady stream of data across the monitors. They had been running nonstop tests for hours—CT scans, MRIs, exhaustive blood analyses—carefully documenting the remarkable changes in the patient's body. The once-critical injuries were barely traceable, leaving only subtle shadows on the imaging results.

  The hospital administrator, Anna McMillan, padded into the room. Her professional facade was slipping, evident in the tense lines around her eyes and mouth.

  Kwon glanced up from her notes, eyes sharp and inquisitive. "How much longer can you hold the parents off?"

  Anna shook her head slightly, lips pressed tight. "Not much longer. The father is threatening to call the guard again and is generally being a pain in the ass. How much longer is this going to go on?"

  Kwon exhaled softly, irritation and frustration evident in her stance. "It's hard to say. It's not as if we can move him without his parents throwing a fit and exposing the entire project. At this point, we need to establish an ongoing reason to see and monitor the patient openly."

  Anna crossed her arms, considering Callum's still, sleeping form on the hospital bed. "He's still in a coma, right? You and your team can easily be assigned as his attending physicians."

  "True," Kwon agreed slowly, her tone skeptical. "But how exactly do we explain the unnatural levels of healing and regeneration he's exhibiting? We should have been able to transfer him out by now and substitute a believable duplicate."

  Anna sighed deeply, tension radiating from her frame. "I know. Those parents—and that girl—ruined those options. We have to roll with the punches now. Perhaps we could frame this as a state-secret program, designed to pull people back from death's door. We could say it was a desperate, last-ditch effort to save him when conventional medicine failed."

  "Not entirely untrue," Kwon conceded thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing. "Not the whole truth either, but it'll have to suffice. It'll certainly raise fewer questions than the alternative."

  She turned back to the monitors, her fingers dancing over the console as fresh data filled the screens. "When he awakens, it'll be fascinating to see if we're dealing with the original consciousness or some augmented form of sentience. This may redefine our understanding of the boundaries between biology and technology."

  Anna raised an eyebrow at Kwon, her voice dry and edged with weariness. "You realize you get way too excited about your mad science, right? Try not to look so happy when the parents finally come in—and for God’s sake, clean the boy up. We have to let them in shortly, or the father is going to have the media storming the front door, claiming we kidnapped his son."

  Dr. Kwon was already pivoting away from the administrator, her lab coat swirling as she waved dismissively over her shoulder. "We'll be ready. Let them in whenever you're set."

  Dr. Kwon and her team quickly acted, racing against the clock to make the operating room appear less threatening. Equipment was hurriedly moved, armed guards subtly shifted positions, stepping back into less conspicuous corners to present a softer impression. Within minutes, the sterile, hostile atmosphere had been masked sufficiently, and the room felt marginally more welcoming.

  Barely ten minutes passed before Gregor Stroud and his wife, Elspeth, burst through the operating room doors, anxiety and desperation written clearly across their faces. Entirely out of protocol to have non-sterile individuals in the OR, but given Callum's stable condition, allowing them entry was now the least risky option.

  Dr. Kwon quickly stepped forward, raising her hand in a placating gesture. Her practiced composure softened the force of their entrance, buying her enough time to assess the group entering. Her gaze settled briefly on Elspeth, whose fingers were firmly entwined with the young woman from the waiting room. Sadie appeared uncomfortable, almost being dragged forward by the determined mother. Kwon mentally filed away this intriguing dynamic for later consideration. Perhaps it was something that could be useful down the road.

  "Please wait a moment," Kwon spoke clearly and calmly, her voice gentle but firm. "He is breathing and resting comfortably now. Please avoid jostling him roughly. Your son is currently in a coma, but his body is responding very well to our treatment."

  Gregor, eyes blazing with barely-contained fury and confusion, took another aggressive step forward, fists clenched at his sides. He resembled a bull on the verge of charging, and Kwon heard the subtle rustle behind her as one of the guards shifted slightly, ready to intervene should it become necessary.

  "What treatment are ye givin' my boy?!" Gregor demanded loudly, his Scottish accent thickening with emotion, making him nearly unintelligible. "He looks like he's never been injured at all! Ye lot made it sound like he was dyin'!"

  Kwon kept her expression carefully neutral, though her eyes showed a flicker of genuine compassion. "Mr. Stroud, I cannot divulge full details. The State Department maintains a classified emergency protocol for specific critical situations like this. It's an experimental, highly advanced treatment intended to prevent death in extreme cases. Make no mistake—your son did die. But we managed to resuscitate him, and our treatment has rapidly accelerated the healing of his injuries."

  Elspeth gasped softly at the doctor's blunt admission, her free hand flying instinctively to her mouth. Her eyes filled instantly with tears. Gregor froze in place, all the fire draining from him at once, replaced by a profound shock and raw grief. His fierce eyes softened, and he stared at his son lying quietly on the table, utterly unable to look away.

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  Slowly, as if every step was physically painful, Gregor moved to Callum's side. With a tenderness at odds with his previously aggressive demeanor, he reached out and gently placed his broad, shaking hand on his son's pale cheek. Tears, silent but unstoppable, began to stream down his rugged face.

  Elspeth quickly joined her husband, her quiet sorrow evident in her trembling touch as she rested a comforting hand on her husband and son, uniting the family in a moment of painful intimacy.

  Amidst the silence, Sadie finally turned toward Kwon, visibly struggling to steady her trembling voice. Her eyes glistened with tears, yet her question was clear and direct.

  "When...when will he wake up?"

  Dr. Kwon's expression turned visibly pained as she faced Sadie, her voice quiet and unusually vulnerable. "To be honest, I have no idea. It could be today, a month, a year, or possibly never. Comas remain one of the great mysteries in medical science. What I can tell you is we've given Callum the best chance at life he could ever have hoped for. My team will remain by his side, monitoring him constantly until we’re confident he's stable. Hopefully, we'll see progress soon."

  Sadie nodded slowly, numbly processing the uncertainty of Dr. Kwon’s words. Her gaze shifted back toward the heartrending scene unfolding beside the hospital bed: Gregor gently cradling his son’s face, silent tears tracing paths down his weathered cheeks; Elspeth standing close, her presence quietly comforting yet overwhelmed by grief. The emotional toll of nearly losing Callum, compounded by the ambiguity of his recovery, weighed heavily in the sterile atmosphere of the room.

  Without any warning, Callum’s body arched violently off the hospital bed. His spine contorted sharply, muscles rigid as a scream ripped from his throat. The sound was raw and primal, echoing off the cold steel walls and sending chills down everyone present.

  In that moment, an invisible wave of energy erupted from Callum’s body, undetectable by human eyes but unmistakably felt. Monitors nearby crackled violently, their screens flickering and sparking before abruptly dying. Lights dimmed and sputtered, plunging the room momentarily into eerie semi-darkness.

  Dr. Kwon lunged forward immediately, her voice sharp and urgent. "Get the parents back! Now!"

  Despite their startled protests, the guards swiftly grabbed Gregor and Elspeth, gently but firmly pulling them away from Callum’s bedside. Sadie stumbled backward in shock, eyes wide with fear and confusion, unsure of what she was witnessing.

  Dr. Kwon leaned closely over Callum, her pulse pounding loudly in her ears. She saw his body trembling softly, almost vibrating with an unknown internal force. His eyes snapped open as she hovered anxiously over him, locking onto hers. For a brief yet terrifying moment, they were entirely silver—iris, pupil, and whites merging into a reflective metallic sheen that defied explanation.

  Then, slowly, the unnatural silver faded back to Callum’s standard eye color, clarity returning gradually as his gaze sharpened, truly seeing her face.

  Kwon held her breath, uncertainly, until Callum's lips parted. His voice was weak, barely above a whisper, laden with exhaustion and raw disbelief.

  "Fuuuck, that hurt."

  Immediately after those words escaped him, Callum’s eyes rolled backward, and his body slumped heavily back onto the bed, falling again into unconsciousness.

  The room fell utterly silent, punctuated only by the heavy breathing of those gathered around, each person grappling to comprehend what had just occurred.

  The operating room erupted into chaos after Callum's sudden outburst. Gregor Stroud immediately rounded on Dr. Kwon, demanding answers, his voice sharp with confusion and anxiety. "What the hell was that? What's happening tae my boy?"

  Maintaining her best professional composure despite the turmoil, Kwon spread her hands helplessly. "Mr. Stroud, honestly, we're not certain exactly what happened, but he appears stable now. I believe he's simply fallen into a natural sleep. Hopefully, he'll wake soon with some rest, and we can directly ask him how he's feeling. This is good news."

  Gregor's eyes narrowed, dubious skepticism shadowing his expression. Elspeth, beside him, appeared frightened, reluctant to trust hope again so quickly, yet she clung to Kwon's words fiercely, unwilling to surrender to despair. Sadie hovered nearby, emotions swirling violently within her chest. Guilt lingered stubbornly, but a fragile, raw hope sparked through it, echoing the Strouds' guarded optimism.

  Before more could be said, administrator McMillan rushed into the room, her face a stormcloud of agitation. "What on earth just happened in here?"

  Kwon swiftly moved toward her, speaking in a hushed but urgent tone, quickly outlining the bizarre event. After a brief but intense discussion, Anna nodded briskly. Shortly thereafter, hospital staff arrived, carefully wheeling Callum's bed out of the chaotic operating room, accompanied by a subdued Gregor, Elspeth, and Sadie, toward a quieter private hospital room.

  Once settled, Callum was gently connected to monitors and machines, their reassuring, steady beeps and rhythms calming everyone's frayed nerves. His heartbeat was strong, his breathing steady, and aside from occasional twitches and movements suggesting troubling dreams, he seemed peacefully asleep.

  Three chairs were brought into the small room. Gregor, Elspeth, and Sadie took turns seated by Callum's bedside, each holding his hand, quietly talking to him, or softly speaking to each other as their adrenaline gradually subsided. Time passed slowly, the weight of the day's events settling heavily around them, each lost in their thoughts and worries.

  It was late in the evening when practicality finally surfaced. Elspeth looked around, gently squeezing Sadie's hand. "We've been here for hours now. We should probably start taking shifts—get something to eat, freshen up. Though truthfully, I can't imagine leavin' his side."

  Sadie, feeling determined to do something useful, sat forward quickly. "I can go home, get cleaned up quickly, and bring sandwiches for everyone. If you need a place to shower or take a quick nap, my flat’s just a few blocks away. You're both more than welcome to it."

  Elspeth’s expression softened, gratitude shining gently in her eyes. "That's terribly sweet of ye, pet. We’ve got our travel bags in the car. We were visitin' nearby when we got your call. I wouldn’t mind freshenin' up myself, but I’ll no' be stayin' away long."

  Her eyes shifted lovingly toward her husband, who hadn't once looked away from their sleeping son. Gregor spoke up without needing to meet her gaze, his voice gentle but firm. "Aye, dear. Go on ahead and get cleaned up. I’ll stay here with our boy. Just remember—no tomatoes on my sandwich, please."

  Elspeth smiled softly, rising to her feet. She leaned over and gently touched Gregor's shoulder, pressing a tender kiss to the top of his head. "As if I could forget."

  Turning, she followed Sadie from the room. Together, they made their way through the quiet hospital halls, down to the parking lot towards the Strouds' rental vehicle to retrieve her bag, each woman silently drawing strength from the other in preparation for the uncertain night ahead.