Yesu’s body remained still against the pavement, lifeless, blood slowly spreading beneath her.

A student standing closest to the pavement screamed in terror. And the other students followed.

Instructors rushed out of nowhere. Some surrounded Yesu, while others ordered the students downstairs to go inside.

An instructor bent over Yesu, checking for any sign of life.

Her limbs were twisted at wrong angles. Blood ran from a crack along the side of her skull.

One instructor turned and vomited.

The gang stood staring at the roof. Nat walked slowly backwards, hands shaking. The guy next to him ran towards the exit and took the stairs.

The cameraman’s hand had lowered, but the camera was still recording.

Kunjunni blinked rapidly, forcing himself back to reality.

"Let’s go." He said, but he didn’t move.

In the class Trystia had flown into, some students gathered around her. She wasn’t unconscious, her body moved slightly.

The sound of sirens drew closer to the school.

***

The emergency room was in complete disarray.

"Pulse dropping!"

"Get more pressure on the bleeding!"

"Yes, doctor!"

Yesu’s body lay motionless beneath the operating lights, blood staining the sheets beneath her.

One leg had twisted unnaturally from the fall. Part of her skull was fractured badly enough that blood kept slipping through her hair despite the efforts to stop it.

The heart monitor slowed.

A practitioner cursed under his breath. "She’s crashing."

Another adjusted the oxygen mask quickly. "We’re losing her."

One of the nurses looked pale. "How is she even still alive after that fall?

Nobody answered.

The senior doctor pressed harder against Yesu’s side. "Prep for emergency stabilization. Now."

Her pulse weakened again.

Then suddenly, the monitor steadied slightly.

Everyone paused.

"What?"

The doctor frowned. "Check it again."

The nurse stared at the readings. "Heart rate is rising."

"That’s impossible."

One practitioner moved to Yesu’s broken arm, preparing to secure it properly, then froze.

"...Doctor."

"What now?"

"The bone shifted.

"What?"

"It wasn’t like this before."

The arm had partially straightened on its own. Not fully. Not cleanly. But enough to be wrong.

A terrible silence settled briefly around the operating table

The senior doctor quickly snapped out of it. "Focus."

They resumed immediately.

"Yes, doctor."

"Pressure’s stabilizing."

"No internal rupture?"

"There was. It’s slowing down."

The doctor’s expression hardened. "That’s not how bodies work."

But Yesu’s body kept adjusting.

Not healing.

Adapting

Muscles around damaged areas tightened strangely, reducing blood loss. Her breathing, once shallow and broken, gradually deepened on its own despite the trauma

The pressure around the skull fracture lessened just enough for them to continue operating.

One nurse stepped back unconsciously. "What is she?"

The doctor shot her a sharp glare. "She’s a patient. Keep working."

Sweat rolled down his forehead as he looked over the scans again.

The injuries should have killed her already.

Yet somehow, every time her condition reached the edge, her body compensated just enough to drag itself back.

Not enough to recover. Just enough to survive.

The monitor beeped steadily now. Weak. But alive.

Her body was refusing to die.

The senior doctor stared down at Yesu for a long moment before speaking quietly.

"...I’ve never seen anything like this."

***

MacKayden’s office was quiet except for the ticking wall clock.

Detective Clarke sat opposite him, lazily stirring a paper cup of tea he hadn’t touched in minutes.

"The bomber’s been identified," Clarke said casually. "Name’s Dorian Veck. Small-time ZCP radical. Currently hiding in a housing block near East Verge."

MacKayden leaned back slightly. "You sound very sure."

"I usually am."

"You traced him?"

Clarke shrugged. "Fragments. Emotional residue. Patterns. People leave more of themselves behind than they realize."

MacKayden’s expression remained unreadable.

Clarke took a sip from his tea. "You’ll want officers there quickly. He’s nervous."

"And why exactly am I making the arrest?" MacKayden asked. "Mental-Class investigators usually handle interrogations themselves."

"Ah." Clarke pointed lightly at him. "That’s where people misunderstand us."

"And where do people misunderstand you?"

"We investigate. Politicians decide what happens after." Clarke crossed one leg over the other. "I dislike politics immensely."

MacKayden gave a dry look. "You work for Central."

"Exactly my point."

A brief silence settled.

Rain tapped faintly against the damaged station windows outside.

Clarke’s eyes drifted toward the monitor on MacKayden’s desk. Paused footage.

He smiled faintly. "Still watching her?"

MacKayden didn’t react.

"You’re developing a habit."

"You seem overly interested in my habits."

"Occupational curiosity."

The office door suddenly opened.

An officer stepped inside hurriedly. "Sir..." He stopped after noticing Clarke.

MacKayden frowned immediately. "What?"

The officer hesitated. "Something came in regarding the school incident."

Clarke noticed the slight tension in his posture instantly.

"Can it wait?" MacKayden asked.

The officer glanced briefly at Clarke before lowering his voice. "I think you should see it privately, sir."

MacKayden held his gaze for a moment, then nodded once.

"That’ll be all, detective."

Clarke stood easily. "Dismissed from my own conversation. Harsh.

Nobody smiled.

He walked toward the door casually.

As he passed the officer, his shoulder bumped lightly against him.

Something slipped from the officer’s pocket.

A camera.

It hit the floor with a plastic clack.

The officer reacted immediately, but Clarke bent first and picked it up.

"Careful," he said lightly.

He dusted it off absentmindedly.

Then paused.

His fingers remained on the camera a second too long.

Something behind his eyes shifted. Gone was the relaxed amusement.

Fragments hit him instantly.

Blood.

Concrete.

A falling body.

A girl whose neck corrected itself after impact.

And Yesu...

Jumping.

Clarke slowly lifted his eyes toward the officer. For the first time that day, his expression was completely serious.

Then he handed the camera back quietly.

"Try not to lose important things," he said.

And walked out.

***

Detective Clarke bumped into Officer Cee Cee as he stepped out of the station.

"Apologies," he said, walking away briskly without sparing a second glance.

Cee Cee’s gaze followed him, puzzled.

"What’s with him?

He didn’t even make use of his umbrella tucked underneath his arm.

Cee Cee shrugged and entered the station.

She marched straight to MacKayden’s office.

"MacKayden sir..." she began as she stepped in.

MacKayden was looking into the camera, deadpan.

"... there was an incident at the district high school." Cee Cee continued. "You won’t believe what I’m about to tell you."

MacKayden didn’t reply immediately. He looked at her with an unreadable expression.

"Oh, I believe."