LOGINJust when we thought it was safe to go back home... More mysteries coming as this story unfolds...Stay tuned for more updates :)
The needle began to vibrate once more. “The needles are working again,” I gasped, stunned. I tried singing out the anchoring note once more, a bright, clear, open A, and as I did, Connor slowly removed his hand from my shoulder. The needle began to shake. And then sputteredAnd finally came to a complete standstill. It was working just a moment ago. Why did it stop? Where did it go wrong?Thinking I just needed to repeat the note, I tried it one more time. But nothing happened. The needle was still, and as I touched it, as cold as the dead. Sensing my disappointment, Connor placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You tried, Ariana…” The needle twitched under my fingertip. Was it Connor’s voice that made it jump?“Say that again,” I encouraged. “What you just said.” Connor squeezed my shoulder nervously, “Ariana…it’s okay. The nanobot serum is almost ready for injection. You’ve tried your best, Ari…” The needle began to hum once more, singing with a pure, A. Not a high A,
I turned towards the waiting cart. “Should we start the music,” Connor asked. I shook my head, “I need to place all of the needles first,” I explained briefly, going over the details of what was to happen next. Before the true healing could start, I needed to tune the needles with the sound of my voice. After that, I had to place every needle precisely, and only when that task was complete could the music start. “I’ll signal when it’s time.” He grunted, turning back towards his sister where the technicians and nurses were still struggling to stabilize her condition. They had managed to quiet her screams with enough sedatives to drop an elephant, but her body was still thrashing as it rejected the effects of the nanobots. She wouldn’t last much longer.Turning towards my needles, I tried to block out the sound of the machines. For this to work, for the energy of the music to find its way into the needles, I needed to place them precisely, which meant having a clear head and steady h
The air between us stilled as time seemed to stop. Allison was in pain. I’d do everything in my power to help her. Except for this. I wasn’t even sure I could still do it, even with my instrument. Other than that one time at the convention, I haven’t even touched an instrument since I gave up music shortly after my 18th birthday. That was 7, almost 8 years ago. Before my father’s death. Before my failed marriage…"I can get a violin,” Connor lifted his hand, ready to direct his staff to do just that. “I’m sure we have something in-house that would work. We…”"Not just any violin," I interrupted. "It needs to be MY violin–specifically, the one I used during my initial experiments. I need to have a soul-tight connection to the instrument, otherwise it won't work. It needs to be my Stradivarius.” Stradivarius violins were rare, irreplaceable, and practically priceless. My instrument was over 300 years old, created during master Stradivarius’ “Golden Period,” and had been played by co
Everything seemed to happen all at once.One moment, Allison was stable, her heart rate normal. Her body healed.And then the next moment, as if flipping a switch, all at once the machines around us began to sound a woeful siren that set all our hearts racing as the positive effects of the procedure fell apart.Feeling helpless, I stood there, shocked, watching in horror as her body began to jerk, her mouth open in a silent scream of pain that she shouldn't be able to feel, as if her body was burning through her sedation faster than the IVs could provide relief. Worse, her body was using up the nanobots before the treatment could be complete. She was still healing, only now the healing had stopped, and in some areas even reversing. "She's in pain. Can we up the dosage?" I begged the anesthesiologist. He shook his head. "It's already at the maximum dose for a person of her size. Any more holds a risk of…""Give her more," Connor ordered, shouting over his shoulder. "Do your job!" I'
I followed Connor out of the sanitizing room to a corridor so narrow that we had to walk in single file. The walls were thick plastic, perfectly sealed, protecting us from anything that could possibly cling to the outside of our suits. Eventually, the corridor ended, and a set of heavy doors slid away to reveal a large, open room. It almost felt like a warehouse, with cement floors that must be easy enough to hose down and disinfect, and tall blank walls. In the center of the room was a bed surrounded by one more set of plastic curtains that provided another layer of safety between the procedure and the outside environment. And at the heart of that space, lying on the bed, was Connor's sister, and my best friend, Allison Davies. Taking a deep breath, I surveyed our environment. To the right of the bed was a cart holding trays each with a variety of surgical instruments laid upon its surface. Some of the tools looked unfamiliar, possibly proprietary, but most of them were pretty sta
As we finished washing up, Connor directed me to a different door than the one we had entered, leading to a narrow, sterilization room. Just inside hung several hazmat suits, the type specifically designed for doctors working on potentially infected patients, and other delicate procedures. “These are level 4 suits,” he explains as we step into sleek suits printed with the Ouroboros Biotech logo.Level 3 suits were used for the most contagious viruses.“I didn’t know they made level 4 suits,” I expressed, impressed. “Ours are the first,” he explained proudly as he helped me find the right sized suit. They were slimmer than I was used to, far lighter as well. “We designed these to work specifically for this procedure," he continued, placing our suits in a small tube where they were sanitized before being conveyed to the other side of the nearby sanitation chamber. "This material will not only keep any of our contaminants from entering our patient's body, but also protect us from any na
That evening, Misha came home looking unusually cheerful.Putting on a brave face, I smiled, waiting to see what had him in such a good mood.“Sweetheart,” Misha took my hands in his “This weekend is our anniversary. We should take a trip to celebrate,” he paused, as if thinking and suggested. “Ho
Staring at the phone, I was unable to process what was happening. Why had Misha changed his password without telling me?As I stood there puzzled, the mysterious caller kept sending more messages. Misha’s phone always shows a small preview of each time he receives a text. This time his phone chime
As I marched towards the train station, my mind wouldn’t let the situation slide. Someone was interfering with my life. But who?Angry and frustrated, I called Allison. “Please tell me this wasn’t you?” I demanded with a touch of self-righteous anger. “I can’t believe you’d do something like this wi
You could say that I had two wake up calls that day, but the true depth of their meaning would become clear later, when I got home to check my email. There were two new messages at the top of my inbox. The first was from Dr. Ryland Winchester and the HR department of Haven Medical Group. The secon







