"I'm not a doctor."
The man's eyes locked onto Ivan's, and the green glow pulsed harder.
"I'm a priest."
The words echoed in Ivan's ears like a curse.
The boy froze, staring at the man who stood at the edge of his bed, palms hovering above him as faint streams of green light flowed into his body.
His first instinct was to flinch away, to scream, but his body was too weak to move. His heart beated against his chest violently, each breath sharper than the last, as though something was trying to crawl out of his chest.
Luna stood near the wall now, having full trust in whoever this man was as she stepped back the man revealed himself.
Her eyes were still red and swollen, but she seemed better now.
"Ivan…don't be afraid." She tried to calm the boy down, "he's here to help."
The boy's gaze snapped towards her.
'Help?' He thought, his thoughts crashing like a computer virus, 'with what?'
After all, this wasn't a hospital they could afford.
The clean, white walls, the wide bed, the humming machines around him, it all felt far from the life he knew. Their small apartment barely managed food and bills. This place...it was almost like another world.
His throat pained as he forced words out.
"Mom…what's going on? Who is he?"
The woman hesitated. Her lips parted, but no answer came. Instead, she lowered her head, avoiding his eyes, and whispered, "If not for him, you wouldn't be here."
Ivan blinked, his mind spinning. His body still burned from the memory of collapsing in that alley.
The cold pavement against his cheek, the taste of blood in his mouth, the fading voices before everything turned black. And then, his sister's face flashed in his memory.
He turned his head weakly, his voice soft but filled with urgency.
"Is Sol okay? He asked, worried about how his sister seemed to be breaking down outside the hospital room.
At that, his mother's tears spilled again. She covered her mouth to stop her sobs.
A heavy silence fell. Ivan's chest tightened, not from pain but from guilt.
His sister…the girl who always laughed too much, who annoyed him endlessly, who still saved the last piece of bread for him at dinner, she had seen him like that.
Broken and lifeless.
She didn't deserve that.
She deserves better.
His throat ached, but he still asked, "Mom… is she okay?"
That question made the woman go still. For a moment, she didn't answer.
Then she shook her head, almost violently.
"She hasn't spoken a word since. Not a single word. It's like…something left her the moment she dragged you here.
I kept looking at her, waiting for her to say something…but she just sits there, silently."
Ivan felt the room spin. His mother's words pierced deeper than any wound.
Sol, his little sister, who had always been the light in their dark days, silent? The thought hurt more than his battered body.
'What did I drag her into?' The boy thought sadly.
He clenched his fists weakly, nails pressing into his palms. "I should've been stronger. I should've—"
"Stop." His mother's voice cut him off sharply. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and straightened her posture. "Don't you dare blame yourself. You're alive, Ivan. That's all that matters to me. Even to her. You're here, and that's enough."
Her words trembled, but her eyes held a fierce determination only a mother could carry.
For a moment, Ivan wanted to believe her. To let her strength carry him. But the strange green glow from the man's hands pulled his thoughts back into chaos.
He looked again at the priest, who still hadn't spoken beyond that one haunting line.
The man's face was calm yet unreadable, his eyes sharp but not cruel. The glow around his hands seemed alive, threads of light weaving into Ivan's skin.
Finally, Ivan's fear spilled over.
"What…what are you doing to me?"
The man lifted his gaze, locking eyes with him. A frown creased his features, and his voice was steady, almost cold.
"I'm not healing you. I'm holding you together."
Ivan's breath caught. "What?"
The priest lowered his hands slightly, though the green light still flowed.
"Your body is cracked. Even more so than you realise. By all rights, you shouldn't even be breathing right now. Whatever struck you wasn't just a beating, it was something far darker. Something that almost wanted your soul torn apart."
The words landed like stones in Ivan's mind. He didn't understand them, yet something inside him stirred, a memory of that suffocating darkness when he collapsed, the way his chest had burned like it was being pulled apart.
His lips quivered. "You're lying."
The priest's eyes hardened.
"Do I look like I have the luxury to lie?"
Silence followed.
The only sound was the faint hum of machines and Ivan's uneven breathing. His mother took a hesitant step closer, her hands shaking as she reached for his arm.
"Ivan…please. Just trust him. I don't care who he is, as long as he keeps you alive." Her voice sounded almost pleading, making the boy shut his questions up.
No matter what he thought about, this place did not seem even one percent like the hospitals and clinics he had heard off, if anything, these seemed almost ancient architects of the past...
The boy wanted to fight, to deny, to demand answers. But his body gave out, sinking into the pillow as exhaustion pressed down on him.
The glow from the priest's hands grew brighter, wrapping his body in a faint warmth that was almost comforting.
Almost.
But unease gnawed at his chest. Something wasn't right. None of this was right, he felt.
Even if he was in some rundown hospital, where did the money to call this miraculous person come from?
Or was he just a guinea pig the Central Government was said to be using to try on their new miracle medicines?
His eyes fluttered shut, but just before sleep claimed him, he heard the priest murmur under his breath, words not meant for him.
"...all that's left now is to corrupt that schizophrenic girl—"
***