At the Mintaka Healing Campus, the air was heavy with the agonizing cries of wounded soldiers and the rhythmic clatter of medical equipment. Every cot held a patient draped in sterile gauze; some were hemorrhaging from jagged lacerations, while others lay in the chilling stillness of paralysis. In a far corner, a soldier thrashed in a violent seizure, his eyes rolling back until only the whites remained. Healers rushed toward him as the stench of necrotic tissue and purulent discharge began to fill the ward.
"Xurien, we need to prioritize this one!" shouted a healer, her hands glowing with a cerulean energy that manifested as a neuro-stat interface, displaying flickering cardio-rate diagnostics. "His internal organs are under systemic attack... the energy plate is reading massive cerebral hyperactivity. It's a neurological storm!" The woman, a Blue Healer with tight curls, gasped as she monitored the display. "His pulse is skyrocketing! This is physiologically impossible."
Xurien immediately inspected the wound. The flesh had turned a morbid shade of necrotic purple, and the patient's skin was jaundiced. The soldier was restrained, his muscles undergoing violent fasciculations and his joints locking in rigor. His eyelids flickered rapidly until, at the peak of a tonic seizure, his pupils dilated into abyssal black voids, and he slumped into unconsciousness.
"Is he flatlining?" The Blue Healer's eyes widened. Her hand glowed brighter, transforming into a holographic cardio-monitor. The pulse waves were flattening into a shallow, terminal rhythm. "We're losing his vitals."
Xurien channeled her White Healing Energy, projecting a high-resolution bio-sonographic scan into her mind's eye to visualize the internal anomalies. "No... this can't be," she whispered.
"His vascular system is failing... multiple ruptured vessels. His Celestial Genes are... undergoing cellular apoptosis," Xurien reported, her own heart racing. As her consciousness dove into a molecular-level visualization of the blood and cellular structures, she saw them: black, parasitic viral agents devouring the celestial essence and replicating with predatory speed.
"It's a systemic pathogen," Xurien said, her fingers dancing in the air as she wove astral-energy filaments. The white threads threaded through organs and tissues, piercing down to the microcosmic cellular fields. "Based on the viral morphology, it operates as a systemic colony." The black cells moved with tactical precision, flanking white blood cells and dismantling the celestial gene barriers. "This is the Myrmex Virus. They feed the 'Mother Cell' to produce dark daughter cells that rewrite the host's DNA." Her vision blurred momentarily as a wave of dread hit her. "Like a colony of ants... they won't stop until the Queen—the Mother Cell—is neutralized. It's not contagious through the air, but anyone struck by an AS-Myrmex stinger will suffer this 'Genetic Switch-off.'"
The surrounding healers choked back gasps of horror. The room erupted into a frantic exchange of panicked theories.
"The Myrmex Virus?" stammered a Green Healer, her hand trembling as she scribbled the findings for the official report to the King.
"Isn't that a death sentence?" another cried.
"It's a silent killer," the Blue Healer added. "Like termites eating the very foundation of the Kingdom."
"This is worse than dying in battle," whispered a Yellow Healer, her golden light dimming in fear as she looked at the rows of bandaged men, now seemingly under a collective death warrant. The air grew cold, as if the breath of the Reaper had just swept through the ward.
"The King and the High Command must be notified immediately... our frontliners are in grave danger," a Red Healer urged. Xurien nodded, her focus remaining on tracing the Mother Cell through the patient's nervous system, feeling the synapses begin to misfire and stall.
"If my diagnosis is correct... this is an Anti-Celestial Gene Activation weapon. Why wasn't this in the Cyprioxian intelligence reports?" Xurien paused, a grim realization dawning on her. "If we don't contain this now, the entire military will be decimated."
"But Xurien... we aren't supposed to interfere with the jurisdiction of the Religious Healers."
"The victims will suffer ascending paralysis until they are completely locked in; their Celestial Genes will be permanently silenced," Xurien explained. The healers recoiled from their patients in instinctive fear. "Don't retreat! It isn't contagious."
"Then the soldiers must avoid the front lines—this turns an Awakened Hunter into a mundane human with no abilities," a Thallerion healer noted.
"Exactly. Once the stinger injects the viral load, it acts like a slow-burn rabies. There are no immediate symptoms, but it slowly hollows out the Celestial DNA."
Xurien halted her energetic dialysis and molecular scanning. The astral strings dissipated like mist. "Yes. And once that happens, they suffer Genetic Silence."
"How terrifying," the Green Healer muttered, the scratch of his pen harsh in the quiet room.
The patients who overheard began to wail. "No! Please!" One soldier crawled off his cot, dragging his unresponsive lower body across the floor. "I don't want to live like a hollow... please, Lady Xurien, save me!" He wept, reaching for her boots. A Red Healer quickly conjured a steel levitation platform, lifting the soldier back onto his bed. The infirmary took on the atmosphere of a wake.
"Send a dispatch to Prince Cerceux's headquarters immediately," Xurien ordered. But before the Green Healer could move, the doors swung open with a heavy thud while her eyeglasses fell on the ground.
A group of women in pristine white robes entered, bringing a suffocatingly warm aura into the sterile, cold facility. Their cruciform staves clicked rhythmically against the floor.
"Listen well, Thallerions. This is a divine affliction, not a mere sickness. Only the power of the Crux Entity can purge this," a formidable woman announced, her nose wrinkling at the scent of necrosis. Her iridescent green eyes swept over the healers. She slammed her staff down. "Step away from the patients!"
It was Davina Hebronor, a high-ranking Cyprioxian Religious Healer.
"The anti-celestial virus is not contagious, Lady Davina," Xurien replied, her fingers trembling slightly under the woman's oppressive presence. "If we stop now, the viral replication will accelerate."
How does this girl know the true nature of the virus? Impossible, Davina thought, gritting her teeth. Aloud, she sneered, "We have conducted extensive sanctified research. Do you truly think a common healer knows more than the Church?" She stepped toward Xurien. "You are a mere Thallerion medic. How could you possibly identify this pathogen?"
"We've spent a year studying this strain—are you a clairvoyant now?" another Cyprioxian woman mocked with a jagged laugh.
"Lady Xurien is a High-Grade Healer," one of Xurien's teammates defended. "She topped every examination at the Thallerion Celestial Gene Academy."
"Silence! We did not address you," Davina's voice boomed. "You will show us the respect we deserve—we are the primary contributors to the healing arts in this war."
"We are Thallerions. To us, our bodies are the medical tools," Xurien said, clenching her fists. "Do not belittle our craft."
"You are nothing but quack doctors. Don't boast about your 'Grades' here," another Cyprioxian snapped.
Xurien met Davina's gaze. "Davina... why did you allow wounded soldiers to return to the front if you hadn't neutralized the virus yet?"
Davina's knuckles whitened around her staff. If I admit we missed it, they'll think our healing is incompetent. We are supposed to be superior. She tossed her head back. "That was not our failing. The viral mutation was triggered by the soldiers' own recklessness or subsequent exposure to magical beasts. We have been conducting 'secret' trials for a solution. By the time you 'discovered' this, our reports were already at the palace. Don't be precocious, Xurien—we've already finished the path you're just starting to walk."
"Get out," a Religious Healer barked. "Go back to the clinics for the disabled and the lepers where you belong."
"Or go to the trenches and make yourselves useful... stop interfering with our work."
"We came here to check on your patients," Xurien countered, the room falling silent. "And it's a good thing we did, or we wouldn't have seen how many are dying under your care."
"Leave, Xurien, before I report your interference to the Cyprioxian High Council," Davina threatened, striking her staff again.
"You aren't healing for the sake of the suffering; you're healing for the glory of the Cyprioxian name. Because of your pride, an entire army could be stripped of their power."
Davina's staff flared with a volatile green light. Her jaw tightened. "Do not hinder us if you lack the cure yourself," Xurien added firmly.
Davina fought the urge to lash out. I cannot appear barbaric, especially not with Prince Cerceux watching. It would violate the Hunter's Code. The light on her staff dimmed to a low throb. "You seem quite confident, Xurien. Why don't we settle this with a challenge? This campus has two wings. Two teams. Let's see whose 'ability' actually saves lives. Surely you won't decline?"
Xurien felt her teammates poking her back, whispering for her to ignore the provocation. Xurien stood her ground. "We were born as Thallerion healers... not to be looked down upon. In this moment, we are Hunters of the Viral Agent."
Xurien stepped forward, looking up at the much taller Davina. A shimmering energy-scalpel manifested in Xurien's hand. Her teammates followed suit, their hands glowing with various surgical instruments made of pure light.
"Fine! But let it be known... though we may be breaking protocol, the logic of the Hunter is just. we will compete—not just as healers, but as specialists against this pathogen!"
"Don't get ahead of yourself," Davina hissed, her shadow looming over Xurien's team. "This virus is of magical origin, not some scientific experiment. You've already lost."
Davina leaned in, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "When we win... you will promise never to approach the Prince again. You will return to Cypriox to serve the First Church. For interfering with official business, I will ensure you are consecrated as a nun—forbidden from ever marrying, living a life of silence."
Xurien's team gasped.
"Prince Cerceux doesn't love you," Davina lied, her smile widening. "He's playing with you. I am the one he truly loves, and I will give him my answer when he returns."
Xurien's heart felt like it had been encased in ice. The memory of the secret letters she had exchanged with Cerceux felt suddenly fragile. Her arms tensed.
"I didn't ask about your personal life," Xurien said coldly. "If you're finished talking, we have work to do." She looked at the line of Cyprioxian healers. "But when we win... you and your sycophants will never set foot in Thallerion again. There are plenty of other Religious Healers in Cypriox who actually have a heart for the people."
The room went deathly still. Davina's hand gripped her staff like a vice.
"So, you accept the challenge... half-breed?" Davina's lips curled into a cruel, triumphant smirk.