Chapter 41

  CRITICAL CONDITION

  Melody pushed herself up from the ground with the world still swaying beneath her feet. A thick buzzing pressed against her temples, and each heartbeat seemed to pound against the inside of her skull. With unsteady steps she left the great tree, gripping the doorframe as if it were the only solid thing in the middle of the chaos.

  When she lifted her gaze, the battlefield greeted her with a sight that froze her blood.

  Cristina and Raían were still standing, tense, wrapped in an energy that still crackled in the air like the remnants of a storm that had just been unleashed. A few meters away, Max lay unconscious on the disturbed earth, far too still… disturbingly still, as if the silence itself had claimed him. Farther away, she spotted Tatiana and Gabriel being carried toward the hospital, held up by invisible forces and hurried hands. The urgency in every movement was unmistakable.

  Melody brought a hand to her head, closing one eye from the pain.

  —I think someone drugged me with something really strong… —she muttered, her voice thick—. ??I think I’m hallucinating… does anyone else see a femboy with blue veins?! —she pointed at Kiran, whose skin seemed crossed by luminous filaments that pulsed like sapphire rivers beneath the flesh.

  Kiran turned his face toward her, offended, while small flames danced around his fingers.

  —A femboy?! At least my hair doesn’t look like badly dyed straw.

  —It’s natural! —Melody shot back indignantly, though she had to lean against the tree again to keep from falling.

  —Enough! —Cristina’s voice cut through the argument like a blade—. Come help lift them!

  The tone left no room for discussion. The magic surrounding Cristina produced small flashes that distorted the space around her, as if her own fury were feeding it.

  Kiran and Melody hurried toward Diya. As they knelt beside her, Melody felt the inert weight of her body when she tried to lift her. Her skin was cold, and her breathing—if it was there at all—was barely perceptible. Kiran supported her from the other side, and for a moment the bluish veins along his arms glowed more intensely, as if the magic inside him responded to the gravity of the moment.

  A few steps away, Raían and Cristina were lifting Max carefully, holding him by the shoulders and legs. His head fell back without resistance, tightening the anguish already squeezing their chests.

  —Don’t do this to me… —Cristina whispered.

  Without saying anything else, they began moving toward the hospital as fast as they could. The journey felt endless: clumsy steps, ragged breathing, fear beating louder than any visible wound.

  They did not know if Tatiana and Gabriel were out of danger.

  They did not know if Max would wake up.

  They only knew that stopping was not an option.

  When they crossed the hospital doors, the air changed: it smelled of crushed herbs, alcohol, and contained fear. The murmur of tense voices and hurried footsteps filled the lobby.

  In the center of the room, several witches surrounded Tatiana. Their robes were stained red. Nurses and doctors worked with steady hands, trying to stop the hemorrhage that kept soaking through the bandages again and again.

  —She’s not breathing! —a nurse exclaimed, pulling back slightly to check the unmoving chest.

  —Press the wound! —ordered the chief doctor without hesitation—. Osculum spiritus vitae.

  White runes began to ignite across her skin, climbing up her neck and cheeks like living constellations. She leaned down and kissed Tatiana on the lips. It was not a gentle gesture, but an urgent one: a shared breath, a summons.

  For a second that felt eternal, nothing happened.

  —Breathe again, doctor —another nurse instructed, her voice trembling but steady.

  Tatiana’s chest rose in an uneven gasp. The harsh sound of air returning to her lungs was almost violent, but it was life.

  —Quick, bring the hemorrhage potion! —the doctor ordered.

  A nurse appeared with a dark glass vial. Inside, a crimson substance glowed with its own light, thickening and thinning as if it had a pulse. When shaken, it flashed like blood beneath the moon.

  —Step back.

  The doctor removed the soaked bandages. The wound opened again before their eyes, red and deep. She let a few drops of the potion fall. The substance touched the flesh and, as if alive, began to move on its own, sliding inward with an almost organic shudder.

  —Comprehensio.

  The word resonated low but firm. A red glow wrapped around the wound. The blood staining the skin was drawn inward, as if the body itself were reclaiming it. The flow stopped. The silence afterward was dense, disbelieving.

  —Take her to the CT room. We need to know which organs are damaged.

  The nurses acted immediately, lifting the gurney and disappearing down the corridor with practiced speed.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Cristina stepped forward, trying to reach the doctor.

  —Doctor—

  But she was already moving away behind the gurney, without turning back.

  Nearby, two nurses approached Max and Diya.

  —For evaluation —one said in a professional tone.

  They placed them on separate stretchers and wheeled them down another corridor, beneath white lights that left no room for shadows.

  The hospital still vibrated with footsteps, orders, and restrained magic. Outside, the battle had ended.

  Inside, another had only just begun.

  —Cristina… is that Gabriel? —Melody’s voice came out as barely a whisper.

  Through the glass of a room flooded with white light, she saw him. Gabriel was surrounded by nurses and doctors moving with desperate precision. His skin carried that tone no one should have who is still fighting to stay.

  —The spells aren’t working! —a nurse exclaimed, pulling back hands that still glowed with remnants of golden energy.

  —All right, intubate him. It’s critical that he breathes —ordered one of the doctors, already putting on gloves.

  Another brought the equipment with practiced speed. Magic retreated, but science advanced. They opened his airway with firm care; the tube descended while a nurse stabilized his head.

  —He needs to go to the operating room. We’ll have to combine human methods with magical ones —another doctor said without taking her eyes off the monitor displaying irregular lines.

  —Blood pressure dropping! —a nurse shouted, the alarm beginning to sound with a sharp beep that froze the blood in their veins.

  —Quick!

  The gurney shot down the corridor. The wheels screeched against the polished floor while the team ran beside him, adjusting IV lines, holding bags, murmuring stabilization formulas between clinical orders.

  Cristina, Melody, and Raían could only watch as Gabriel disappeared behind the operating room doors. The metal panels slammed shut with a sharp crack that echoed louder than any scream.

  The silence that followed was unbearable.

  —Do you think they’ll make it? —Melody asked, fear naked in her voice.

  —They will… —Cristina replied.

  But doubt trembled in every syllable.

  —They’re strong —Raían said, wrapping his arms around Cristina. She didn’t pull away.

  Three hours later, the hospital seemed suspended in a thick, heavy time.

  Raían slept sitting in one of the waiting room chairs, his head tilted to one side. Beside him, Kiran snored softly, using Raían’s shoulder as a pillow, for a moment unaware of the weight of the world.

  A few meters away, Cristina remained standing, motionless, her gaze fixed on the door through which Gabriel had disappeared. She hadn’t blinked in minutes.

  Melody, on the other hand, was fighting a different battle.

  In front of an old vending machine, she tapped the glass with increasing frustration.

  —Come on, stupid machine —she gave it a small smack with her palm—. Universe, it’s been a shitty day. Today I’m allowed to break my zero-chocolate rule.

  She looked up at the ceiling, as if some higher force were enjoying sabotaging her only source of comfort.

  —Don’t be cruel.

  The machine vibrated… but the bar didn’t fall.

  Then the sound of doors opening forcefully interrupted the moment. A rush of firm footsteps and beating wings filled the lobby.

  A large group of people entered the hospital, drawing everyone’s attention.

  They were angels, their wings partially folded to avoid brushing the ceiling; soldiers of the Atlantis Order with armor scarred by battle; hybrid demons with burning gazes; and Bestas witches, whose mere presence seemed to tighten the air.

  They did not come in silence.

  They came as if something bigger than a surgery was about to begin.

  —Where the hell were you?! —Melody couldn’t contain her anger; the question burst out loaded with exhaustion and accumulated fear.

  —The lands of Teraxion —Miriam replied, looking around in confusion, as if she still didn’t fully understand the scene or the commotion surrounding them.

  —We assume Sabine teleported us —Laura explained as she dropped into the seat beside Raían. The exhaustion weighed on her shoulders, in her voice, in the way she could barely keep her back straight.

  Miriam nodded, still tense.

  —The witch sent us to the edge of the Celestial Realm. But what was beyond that edge… wasn’t her. —She swallowed—. Something… different tried to consume our souls. All of them.

  An uneasy murmur spread among those present.

  —That bitch controlled the minds of the Bestas witches. She controlled my mind… —Laura clenched her teeth; anger tightened her jaw—. We were lucky no one ended up dead.

  —It was curious —Sofía intervened, with a calmness that contrasted with the rest—. The Bestas’ attack wasn’t meant to kill. It was to make us retreat… to push us toward the edge. —She offered a warm smile, trying to ease the tension vibrating in the air.

  —Sabine managed to discover the location of the Lands of Teraxion. I thought that was impossible. Only the Angelic Tribunal knew that information… —Miriam lowered her voice—. She knows what is there. And she knows that it is hungry.

  The silence that followed was heavy.

  With a firm gesture, Miriam indicated that some of those present could leave. The hospital was no place for entire armies.

  —Where is Gabriel? —Sofía asked, approaching Cristina.

  Cristina looked at her. For a second, she tried to maintain her composure.

  —Sofía… Gabriel is in surgery. He suffered a severe wound…

  She hugged her. Sofía remained rigid at first, as if her body didn’t know how to react, and then tears began to slide silently down her cheeks.

  —And Max and Tatiana? —Laura asked, already standing.

  —Max is unconscious, but he’s healing… —Cristina replied, searching for the right words—. Tatiana… they’re trying. Several of her organs are damaged.

  Something changed in Laura’s expression.

  She placed her hand on the armrest of the chair with too much force. The metal bent under her fingers as if it were clay. The crack was brief and dry.

  She stood up without saying another word and began walking in search of a nurse, determination marked in every step.

  The waiting was no longer just anguish.

  It was contained fury.

  —Where is Tatiana? —Laura reached the nurse, her breathing unsteady and her eyes burning with something more than exhaustion.

  —They’re applying a reconstruction treatment. It will take a few more hours —the nurse replied in a professional voice, though the shine in her pupils betrayed concern.

  —Will she be okay? —Laura didn’t ask; she pleaded. As if the answer could change fate.

  The nurse hesitated for just a second.

  —We don’t know. Her injuries are very severe. —She placed a hand on Laura’s shoulder, firm but compassionate—. Right now the only thing you can do is rest. Your exhaustion is obvious.

  Laura closed her eyes. For a moment, it looked like she was about to break.

  —Come on, Laura —Melody approached with an unusually gentle gesture. There was no sarcasm in her voice this time—. Come.

  She took her by the arm and guided her toward the hospital exit. The doors closed behind them with an automatic whisper, leaving the smell of disinfectant and anxiety behind.

  Sofía sat in the waiting room, her hands clasped over her knees.

  —I’ll wait here —she said.

  The tone left no room for argument. The building could have caught fire and she still wouldn’t have moved.

  Silence settled again… until the main door burst open.

  Jorge rushed in first, his face distorted with worry. At his side walked a man with streaks of gray hair and deep scars crossing his face like maps of old battles: Omelt, Tatiana’s father. His mere presence commanded respect.

  —How is she? —Jorge demanded, fixing his gaze on Cristina.

  —They’re performing a reconstruction treatment… —Cristina explained, trying to keep her voice steady.

  Jorge understood what wasn’t being said.

  —Shit… it’s serious. —The kick he gave the trash can echoed metallic and violent down the hallway.

  Omelt did not raise his voice.

  —Calm down. —His tone was low, but unbreakable—. She is strong. She’ll make it.

  He walked over and sat beside Sofía. Then he placed a heavy, warm hand on her shoulder.

  —Both of them are strong.

  There was no need to clarify whom he meant.

  In that waiting room they were not only waiting for medical news.

  They were waiting for the strength that had always defined Tatiana and Gabriel… to decide to stay.