Morgana ran both hands over her face, neck, shoulders—quick, shaky, checking that bones and skin were real.
Then a small smile tugged at her mouth.
"I'm back."
She spun in place, eyes darting over white benches and steel. Her wristwatch read exactly
5:00.
Great… just on time
She bolted for the isolation room, slapped her work badge to the reader.
Beep. Green.
She pushed in.
A girl stood by the samples, jotting notes on a small pad. She turned at the sound.
"You finally awake?"
Morgana stared at her for a beat, mind racing.
"Why are you here, Selene?"
Selene turned her whole body this time, baffled.
"What do you mean? I work here… same as you."
"You shouldn't be inside yet." Morgana's voice climbed without asking permission.
"This room has to stay sealed until the sample is ready."
Selene pressed the pen against her lips, thinking.
"What sample are you talking about? We only have this failed one today."
Heat rose up Morgana's spine. She brushed past Selene, shoulder to shoulder, and leaned over the tray to read the printed tag.
Bio-Cure Sample Protocol (Muscular Dystrophy) — Patient: Elias Crane.
Her eyes flew wide. Her brows stabbed down. The name and disease punched a hole straight through her certainty.
Why?
She looked up so fast her hair snapped against her cheek.
"Where is Dorvak's sample?" Her voice hit the room hard, louder than she meant.
"What happened to it, Selene?"
Selene's lips parted—she was about to speak. But Morgana didn't wait. Her breath came fast and loud as she rushed forward, eyes darting to the wall clock. Still five on the dot.
The hum of the incubators pressed in, suddenly too loud. She yanked open a cabinet, scanning rows of boxes and faded labels.
Nothing.
Back to the tray. Her reflection warped in the stainless steel surface—tired eyes, clenched teeth, more wrinkles than before.
"Answer me, Selene!" she shouted, snapping her head toward her.
Selene closed her eyes for a heartbeat. Her jaw tightened, and when she spoke, her voice came sharp, words spilling fast.
"Dorvak? What the hell makes you care about him now?!"
Morgana's eyes widened, confused.
"What do you… mean?" She swallowed hard. A bead of sweat slid down her cheek, cold against burning skin.
Selene stepped closer, eyes narrowed, anger pulling tight at the corners where tears had gathered.
"You've already left him behind for fuck's sake."
"What are you talking about? I was prepping the sample to start his treatment!" Morgana's voice shook, then snapped flat.
"I didn't run. I was—" she caught her breath, "—trapped in another world."
Selene let out a bitter, hoarse sob.
"How old are you? Thirteen? What kind of fucking nonesense is that?" Her lips trembled.
"You call yourself a scientist… saying crap like that?"
She closed the last step between them.
"I couldn't bring myself to confront you these past months," she said, low and tight.
"But since you opened this door—fine." She grabbed the front corners of Morgana's lab coat and yanked her in, hard.
"Listen, I don't know what happened between you and Dorvak. Maybe he said something. Maybe he hurt you. I don't fucking care. He didn't deserve to rot in that bed while his cure sat in your damned hands."
Morgana's eyes and lips twitched. The tears held firm, refusing to fall, and only fueling the unnatural glow in her stare. For a second, the words failed her. Confusion and a crushing sense of loss shattered her soul.
Selene's grip loosened as she hiding her face. She pushed Morgana back with a short, angry shove and leaned in, voice dropping to a knife-edge whisper.
"You're the damn devil, Morgana. Dorvak built this lab for us, and you just left him facing his death—ten years, like it meant nothing at all for you."
The room seemed to tilt. Morgana's pupils pinned tight, her voice cracking.
"Ten… years?"
Her gaze flicked to the wall clock—still five. The watch on her wrist ticked, steady, useless. Air stuck in her throat.
Selene spun on her heel and stormed out, the door slamming behind her. The sound echoed through the sterile lab until only the low hum of the machines remained.
Morgana dropped to her knees.
Her fingers dug into the cold floor as she stared blankly at the monitor. Her lips moved without sound—then the name slipped out, soft and broken.
"Dorvak… Dorvak…"
She dragged herself into the chair, hands trembling as she began typing into the system.
Patient: Dorvak Knox
Condition: Huntington's Disease
Status: Transferred to ICU
Last update: Two months ago.
Morgana jolted from the chair, fumbling through her lab coat pockets.
"The formula… it's still on my phone."
Her breath came fast, trembling.
"I'll rebuild it. I can make it again."
Her fingers closed around the device—relief, then confusion.
The screen lit up. Her eyes widened.No… this isn't my phone.
Her pulse spiked. She opened the files tab, fingers flying across the screen. She typed into the search bar exactly as she remembered:
Bio-Cure_Sample_Protocol_DorvakKnox
The result blinked onto the screen:
No files found.