The New York Presbyterian emergency room was a stage for the never-ending symphony of tragedy and treatment. Fluorescent lights illuminated every corner mercilessly, even at midnight. A sharp odor of disinfectant, blood, and exhaustion hung in the air. Amidst this chaos, Dr. Chloe Bennett worked like a machine; calm, efficient, the professional focus in her mask and eyes acting as a shield against the emotional vortex.
That is, until the nurse called her to exam room 4.
"Doctor, Marcus is here, burn on his right palm. He specifically asked for you, he's waiting."
Chloe nodded, quickly closing a file on the computer and heading to the room. When she opened the door, she saw Marcus. He was sitting upright in a chair, the familiar, hardened expression of pain on his face. His right hand was wrapped in a towel. But the first thing that caught Chloe's attention was the change in his body language. In his previous visits, Marcus had been like a ghost; withdrawn, his gaze vacant. Now, he was alert. His eyes scanned the room's exit, the window, and his ears seemed to be pricked for every sound.
"Marcus," Chloe said, closing the door behind her, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible. "You seem to be in trouble again."
Marcus looked at her, a brief moment of calm appearing in the storm in his eyes. "Doctor," he murmured. He unwrapped the towel.
Chloe held her breath. The burn was not a standard thermal or chemical burn. It was in the exact center of his palm, about the size of a coin. The edges were irregular, but appeared extremely precise; as if a high-intensity, focused energy beam had instantly and cleanly cauterized the skin. The wound's color was a strange orange, and the surrounding tissue was barely reddened, only slightly swollen. There was no inflammation. But the most disturbing thing was the depth of the wound; it seemed to go beyond the epidermis and dermis, almost to the muscle tissue.
"What was the source?" Chloe asked, controlling her voice. Her professional curiosity was trying to suppress the alarm bells inside her. This was one of the few cases she had seen that she classified as an "unexplained energy burn." And they had all started coming after those global anomaly reports.
Marcus hesitated for a moment. His eyes met Chloe's. He saw more than the routine concern of an ordinary doctor in her eyes. There was a deep attention, even... a recognition. "A gun casing," he said finally, his voice tense. "A hot brass casing."
Chloe didn't raise her eyebrows. She knew it was a simple lie. A gun casing wouldn't leave a wound of this type, to this degree of localization. It would spread, create blisters. This was more like it had been done with a laser. But she didn't question it. The expression on Marcus's face said much more than the truth: fear, surprise, and a new, dangerous awakening.
"I understand," Chloe murmured, turning her attention to the wound. She put on her gloves and began the examination delicately. When her fingers touched the edge of the wound, Marcus flinched slightly.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
As Chloe examined the texture of the wound, she began to feel something beyond her medical training. It wasn't just tissue damage. Beneath the skin, there was a slight, but distinct... vibration. Almost like a pulse, but not synchronized with the heartbeat. She felt a slight tingling in her fingertips. *Psychosomatic?* she thought at first. *No. Too real.*
"This isn't a standard thermal burn, Marcus," she said, her voice soft but clear, without taking her eyes off the wound. "The tissue is as if it was burned by a high-frequency, very short-duration energy transfer. Like an electric arc, but much more focused." She raised her head, looked into his eyes. "You don't have to tell me the truth. But I need to know what really happened so I can apply the right treatment."
Marcus resisted her gaze. The emergency room noise filling the room – sirens, announcements, footsteps – seemed to trap them in an isolated bubble. Chloe's question was not just medical. It was a test of trust.
"Something happened," Marcus began, his voice hoarse. "That night. At 3 a.m. A... tremor. Then, the casing in my hand... it caught fire. But it wasn't fire. It was more like... light. Heat." His eyes plunged into the wound in his palm. "And other things happened too. I can... move things. Just by thinking."
The words fell into the room, crazy and impossible. But Chloe wasn't surprised. She just narrowed her eyes, continuing to listen to him.
"And someone found me," Marcus added, his voice lowering. "His name is Anton. He's after money and power. He's interested in what I... can do."
Chloe was no longer just a doctor. What Marcus was telling her coincided with her own silent observations. The other "unexplained" cases she had seen in the emergency room. The news in the media about strange events after the global anomaly. And, most importantly, that strange awareness that was beginning to awaken within her... the feeling of the patients' pain, sometimes when she touched them, in her own body. At first, she had thought it was excessive empathy, a symptom of professional burnout. But now she wasn't sure.
"Come here," Chloe said, her voice soft but firm. She gestured for Marcus to lie down on the examination table. "I need to clean your wound and cover it with a special dressing. Conventional methods may not work very well."
Marcus obeyed, lying on the table. As Chloe gently cleaned the wound with a sterile solution, she continued to speak. "There are other people like you, Marcus. In different places. With different... manifestations. They felt the same thing that night, at the same time."
Marcus's eyes widened. "How? How do you know?"
Chloe, continuing her work, confessed, "I feel things too," her voice almost a whisper. "The patients' pain... sometimes, when I touch them, I feel it in my own body. At first, I was afraid. I thought it was an illness, a hallucination. But then I learned to control it. To focus. Now, sometimes... just by touching, I can... alleviate the pain." She raised her head, looked at him. "I'm telling you this because what you're telling me... it's not madness. At least, you're not alone."
Marcus lay motionless on the table, watching her. Chloe's words seemed to have taken away some of the invisible burden on him. He wasn't alone. He wasn't crazy.
"This Anton," Chloe said, preparing the dressing materials. "Is he dangerous?"
"Very," Marcus replied. "He'll do anything for money and power. And now... he's trying to find people like me."
Chloe prepared the dressing, but first, she placed her own hand on Marcus's hand, right next to the wound, on healthy skin. She was gloved, but there was contact. "Listen," she said. "When you leave here, you won't be safe. But the people here... the others... you can connect with them. I... I know there are some data channels. Safe ones."
Marcus looked at her in surprise. "Are you involved too?"
"Not yet. But they've tried to reach me," Chloe confessed. She remembered a coded and highly professional message from Sofia. *"Dr. Bennett, we would like to share data regarding your unexplained energy burn cases. A secure channel."* She had refused then, not wanting to mix it with her work. Now she felt regret.
Chloe applied the dressing, covering the wound. When she was finished, she didn't let go of Marcus's hand. She squeezed it lightly. "These powers aren't a curse, Marcus," she said, as she had told him before, but this time believing it. "They gave them to you not to take life, but to protect it. Look at me. These powers can be your way to make peace with your past ghosts."