Pharmaceutical Rewrite! Episode 7: The Pharmacist War Begins
The Trap Springs
Snow pressed down on the world like a suffocating blanket. The storm had worsened since Akio and the others had infiltrated the Lab. The lower research wing groaned under the weight of frost and neglect, walls splitting with spiderweb cracks where the cold had chewed through steel.
Alarms flickered like broken heartbeats in the distance, red pulses staining the falling snow that seeped through shattered skylights. Somewhere deeper in the wing, Raka had been dragged away, her shouts echoing like a myth ripped from the earth. Marina's muffled cries followed, cut short by a metallic slam. The sounds had gnawed at Akio's ears until silence swallowed everything.
Now he sat hunched in the vents, metal biting his back, cold gnawing his lungs. His breath fogged white, each exhale proof that he hadn't yet been claimed by despair. But his pulse drummed so hard against his ribs it threatened to split him open.
Then a voice slithered through the vents, vibrating in his skull.
"You're a decade too late, Doctor."
The words scraped across him like broken glass. Akio's fist closed around the small glass vial he carried—its liquid glowed faintly blue, humming with the stolen heartbeat of forbidden research. Time itself, distilled into a fragile prison of glass.
The Lab's prize.
The Lab's sin.
And his mistake.
Echoes of Regret
Memories surged without mercy.
The twins. Fragile children standing before his pharmacy window, eyes wide and hollow, lips too weak to beg. Snow had clung to their hair like frost woven into sorrow. He had opened the door, offered them tea—something warm, something human.
They never spoke that day. But their silence was louder than any plea. He had seen everything in their eyes: starvation, abandonment, and the dangerous hunger for someone, anyone, to care.
He promised them safety.
And then he closed the pharmacy.
He left them with nothing. The only shelter they'd known—gone. He told himself it was necessary, that survival demanded sacrifice, but the Lab had found them after. He had driven them into the jaws of wolves.
The vial burned in his hand as guilt choked him.
Clash of Chemicals
The vent gave way with a metallic shriek. Akio tumbled into the corridor, rolling across cold tile slick with condensation. His hands shook but found balance quickly—too many years in sterile halls had trained him for this.
At the far end of the corridor, Yatsumiya Uki stood framed by broken light. Vials clung to his body like medals, glass glimmering with every toxic hue imaginable. His lab coat whipped like a cape in the draft, a mockery of science's rule.
From the side stepped Bradzi, hulking, his grin cruel. Syringes filled with glowing red fluid jutted between his knuckles like claws.
Yatsumiya spread his arms.
"Come now, Doctor. Let's see if you remember your real training."
He flicked a vial. It ignited midair.
FWOOSH—!
Blue fire erupted inches from Akio's face, hissing into molten streaks across the wall. He dove, rolling into a side chamber. His coat smoked, his sleeve scorched. He hurled a counter-vial blindly behind him—rose-colored smoke filled the hallway.
Through the mist, their laughter bled like nails dragging across glass.
Dodging Memories
Akio crouched low, stomach heaving. His coat clung to his arm, soaked in blood from a dozen small cuts. He lifted his wrist—his old friendship band still clung there, shredded, soaked crimson. Once it had been bright, made by friends who had believed in him. Now it was just a memory, fraying with every step he took.
"You're nothing without them," Bradzi's voice echoed through the smoke. "You failed everyone."
The words sank into him like poison. He almost believed them. Almost.
Then—Marina's voice, alive in memory.
Raka's coarse laughter when she mocked her own bruises.
Hikata's steady hand on his shoulder.
And above all, the bright smile of his daughter.
He clenched his jaw, fists shaking.
"I'm still here."
Vial vs. Vial
He spun out of cover and hurled a vial of frost serum. The glass shattered midair, exploding into a winter storm that glazed the walls.
Yatsumiya countered instantly, tossing a vial of flame. The two reactions collided. The hall became steam and thunder.
Bradzi lunged from the haze, syringes aimed for Akio's neck. Akio ducked under his swing, ramming a muscle relaxant syringe deep into Bradzi's side. The giant staggered, slamming a fist into the wall, plaster cracking around his fury.
Yatsumiya flicked another vial toward Akio's feet.
"You invented this one. Remember? Anti-life mist. You said it was unethical. I perfected it."
Akio caught the vial in one hand, crushing it in his fist, glass slicing his palm.
"You didn't perfect anything. You corrupted it."
Marina's Voice
The Lab's loudspeakers crackled, white noise filling the corridors. Then—through the static—her voice cut through.
"Akio... don't give up. They're afraid of you. They only win if you stop fighting."
Marina. Alive.
His stomach lurched. He hadn't known if she had survived. Now her voice was fuel, fire pouring into his veins.
He almost didn't notice the chaos beyond—the thunder of Raka breaking free, her war cries shaking the halls. She was rage unchained, a storm in human form, barreling through guards who had dared to treat her like refuse. Marina had followed her somehow, battered but unbroken, finding her way to the control room.
Akio didn't know how they'd escaped. He didn't care. They were alive. That was enough.
A small smile touched his lips, but the weight of grief still smothered it. He rose anyway.
Turning the Tide
He worked quickly, hands a blur. Chemicals from his belt mixed in a single vial, sparks flaring where opposites collided. He flung it into the central pipe system.
BOOM—!
Light cascaded across the walls as the pipe ruptured. The Lab shuddered violently, alarms shrieking louder. Chemicals failed across nearby chambers, containment systems failing in a chain reaction.
Yatsumiya staggered, forced back by the shockwave.
Bradzi lunged one last time, wild and desperate. Akio met him head-on, driving a counter-serum into his wrist. The massive fighter froze, eyes wide and glassy, falling back with a confused whisper.
"Why...?"
Akio caught his weight, lowering him gently.
"Because you were kids once. I failed you. But I won't fail the world again."
Collapse
The floor split open. Flames and steam poured into the cracks.
Akio staggered toward the holding cells, slamming his hand against the release lever. Doors clanged open.
Raka stormed out, dragging Marina at her side. They were bruised, battered, but alive.
"Took your damn time, Doc."
Akio helped Marina upright, relief flooding him like sunlight through stormclouds. He didn't even ask how they'd been caught again—none of it mattered. They were here.
Together they turned down the collapsing hallway. At its far end, Yatsumiya stood, barely able to stand. His vials cracked around him, spilling toxins into the floor.
"This isn't over," he rasped.
Akio stared back, voice steady.
"No. But this part is."
The ceiling dropped. Fire and steel cut them apart.
Escape into Snow
Through an underground escape route, the trio burst into the night. Snow hammered them, blanketing the chaos they'd left behind.
Akio carried Marina against his shoulder. She was weak, but her breathing steadied against his back. Behind him, Raka stumbled, yet still found the strength to grin.
The Lab burned in the distance.
They had survived. Barely.
A Fire Rekindled
Beneath the shadow of a dead tree, Akio stopped. In his hand was what remained of his old white coat—torn, stained, burned. The symbol of who he had been.
He let it fall into the snow.
In its place, he tied a new band around his wrist—black, but threaded with gold.
Marina limped toward him, her voice hushed. "What now?"
He looked toward the horizon, where snow and fire mixed into a storm without end.
"We burn it all down. Every last trace. Before the timelines fracture beyond repair. Before they succeed in contacting the first Lab."
The wind howled. Snow fell harder. And the war, once a whisper, had finally begun.
TO BE CONTINUED...