The room held its breath. Their breathing came slow, uneven, and Morgana's soft, low moans threaded through the quiet, warming it. The sound tightened, rose—then a sharp gasp split the stillness and fell away.
For a heartbeat, silence.
Then she eased down beside Dorvak, her bare shoulders catching the dim light. A thin sheen of sweat glazed her skin as she brushed her hair back from her face, her breathing settling by degrees, the last faint hum fading from the air.
A thin bead of sweat shimmered on her skin, sliding from the top of her chest, slipping between her breasts, and tracing a slow path down toward her belly as she brushed her hair from her face.
"Hey…" she whispered, voice soft but trembling with something deeper.
"I've got good news."
Dorvak turned his head halfway, eyes still hazy.
"Hm?"
"I found it," she said. "The cure. For your illness."
He blinked, then let out a dry laugh.
"Come on, that's not funny—"
"I'm serious." She cut him off before he could finish.
"Tomorrow, we'll prepare it in the lab."
His eyes widened.
"You mean it? For real?"
A bitter chuckle slipped from him — part disbelief, part pain.
"So… I'm not dying yet, huh?"
Morgana nodded, smiling faintly. Her eyes shimmered as she looked away, hiding the tears she didn't want him to see. Drovak pressed his thumb and forefinger against his eyes, trying to hold back the flood, but the tears escaped anyway, sliding down the side of his face onto the sheet.
She sighed deeply, as if pushing a lifetime of weight off her chest.Then she closed her eyes, finally allowing herself to rest.
***
Morning came.
The bed beside her was empty.
On the table, a folded note waited. She picked it up, half-smiling before even reading.
Lunch's on me. — Dorvak
"You idiot, that's not enough of a payback."
She was humming under her breath, sitting on the toilet. She rested her chin on her palms, eyes half-closed in peace.
Finally… I can't wait to end this suffering.
She pulled her panties back on, flushed, and stepped out. At the sink, she brushed her teeth, still smiling at her reflection — a woman who, for the first time in years, looked truly alive.
The screen lit up with a soft blue glow. She scrolled through her folders until one caught her eye. She tapped it open — its title read:
[Bio-Cure Sample Protocol (Huntington's Disease) – Patient: Dorvak Knox.]
A slow breath escaped her lips. "Thank god…" she murmured.
Before locking the phone, she tapped the screen and switched to the front camera. Her reflection filled it — pale skin, faint shadows under her eyes. She tilted her head, turning her face from side to side, watching the tired woman in the glass mimic her every move. Then a crooked smile appeared.
Damn, this thing drained me dry… I look like a forty-year-old, Though I'm only twenty-five.
For a second, her reflection in the glass looked older, heavier — like someone carrying the weight of a world she refused to lose.
She locked the phone, slipped it into her pocket, and walked toward the gate. Sunlight spilled over her white sleeves as the door closed behind her.
***
Eight hours later, Morgana's eyes burned under the white lights of the lab. She sat hunched at her desk, staring at the wall clock.
come on.
Her chin rested on her arm, legs swinging under the chair as she hummed faintly to stay awake. The room was all white — too clean, too still.
Beep—Beep—Beep.
Her phone alarm went off. She jumped, silenced it, and sprang to her feet. Her heart raced.
She rushed toward the isolation chamber, smile trembling on her face and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes..
Finally.
She slapped her ID card on the detector.
Access Denied.
"What—? Not now!" She blew warm air on the card, wiped it on her coat, and tried again.
Tiiip — Green light.
She yanked the door open, slipping the card into her pocket. But the moment she looked up—
Everything changed.
The sterile white vanished. The scent of metal turned into smoke and alcohol. She blinked hard. A tavern surrounded her — wooden walls, dim lamps, a round table with five blurry figures talking and laughing.
She screamed inside, hands trembling.
Where — the fuck am I?!
No answer — only laughter echoing in her ears. Her chest tightened. She turned, searching for the lab door. It was gone.
Her breath hitched.
What the hell is this place?