"She's lost her mind! She didn't even glance at the CT scan before cutting him open!" Cody's voice cracked with sheer terror, echoing down the corridor. "This is nothing short of murder!"
Michael's vision blurred. The warning Alice had given earlier vanished from his mind. He hurled himself at the door, striking it with both fists until his knuckles burned. "Stop! Stop this at once!" he roared hoarsely. "Security, break in! Use whatever it takes—drag her out! If anything happens to my father, I swear she will pay with her life! Bring more men—now!"
Inside the operating room, Alice might as well have been alone in another world. The shouting, the threats, the chaos beyond the glass never reached her. Her gaze was fixed solely on the fragile, exposed skull beneath the surgical light.
Once, she had stood at the pinnacle of modern medicine, a neurosurgeon whose name commanded global respect.
And now, inexplicably plunged forward a century in time, she found herself gifted with faculties far beyond medical knowledge: inhuman speed, formidable strength, and even the uncanny ability of x-ray vision.
To those outside, the surgical scene was a chaotic tableau of blood and bone. Yet, Alice perceived it differently; she could see through the skull as if it were made of glass, clearly identifying the small, egg-sized tumor nestled deep within the brain tissue—the very source of her son's affliction.
With a steadying breath, she began to drill into Damien's skull with meticulous precision, her hands a blend of skill and urgency.
Meanwhile, the Wright family huddled by the window, their hearts heavy with despair as they witnessed the crimson seepage staining the sterile pillow beneath their father's head. Each face reflected a profound sense of helplessness.
Even the most esteemed specialists had deemed the situation inoperable, opting instead for a course of palliative care. And now this mysterious young woman was carving into him as if guided by madness.
"Call the emergency team!" Michael shouted desperately. "Perhaps there's still a chance to save him!"
Soon, the doctors arrived. Their faces blanched as they peered through the glass.
Their shock quickly turned to outrage.
"This is barbaric! She's guessing blindly—does she think she has X-ray vision?!"
"Mr. Wright, letting her operate was a fatal mistake! This isn't medicine—it's homicide!"
Each accusation struck like a hammer against Michael's chest. The final spark of hope flickered… and then, the atmosphere changed.
The tide of criticism died down, giving way to a profound, stunned silence.
One doctor leaned closer to the glass, his eyes widening. "Wait… That insertion angle—it was perfect. She missed every major vessel."
Another whispered, stunned, "Her hemostasis technique… I've never seen anything so precise."
"Is she really operating without an assistant? From incision to suturing—her movements are flawless…"
Suddenly, someone gasped sharply. "She's found it. The tumor—she's right on it. But how could she possibly know where it is?"
No one moved. No one breathed. Every eye was fixed on Alice's hands.
They did not tremble. Each motion was fluid, economical, devastatingly precise. With delicate forceps, she clasped the tiny mass lodged within the brain.
Hair-thin neural strands clung to it, resisting like living threads. A subtle, practiced twist of her fingers—and the connections were severed.
Before anyone could fully comprehend what they had witnessed, Alice dropped a small, dark-red mass into the metal tray beside her.
The doctors stared in disbelief.
That was… the tumor? The one deemed impossible to remove?
And yet the woman who had done it was barely past her youth.
"She... did it," Cody whispered, his voice shaking. "The tumor the world's leading experts declared untouchable… she removed it in under five minutes…"
When Alice finally pushed open the operating room door, the crowd outside no longer looked at her with hatred or fear. They looked at her as though they were seeing a goddess.
Michael stepped forward, his voice unsteady with burgeoning hope. "Miss… my father…"
"The operation was successful," Alice replied evenly, offering a faint nod. "He'll regain consciousness soon. And when he does, he'll tell you exactly who I am."
Relief surged through the room— Until—
A long, shrill tone sliced through the air.
The cardiac monitor inside the room shrieked.
On the screen, the jagged rhythm of life stretched… straightened… and collapsed into one merciless, flat line.
Silence enveloped the corridor.
They all understood the grim implication.
The surgery had failed. Damien Wright was gone.
