Inside the operating room—
everything shifted.
It didn't happen loudly.
Didn't happen all at once.
Just—
wrong.
The steady rhythm of the monitor began to change.
Subtle at first.
Then sharper.
Irregular.
"…His pressure is dropping."
A surgeon's voice cut through the room.
Focused.
Tight.
"Adjust the line—now."
Another voice followed immediately.
"…He's not stabilizing."
Hands moved faster.
Instruments shifted.
The calm precision from before turned into urgency.
"…Increase support—."
"…We're losing him—."
"…Stay with me—."
The monitor spiked.
Then dipped.
Then dipped again.
Lower.
Weaker.
"…No—hold that—."
"…Come on, stay with me."
The lead surgeon leaned in slightly.
Closer.
More intent.
"…Izana, stay with us."
The name hung in the air.
But there was no response.
The rhythm faltered again.
Slower now.
Dragging.
Then—
flat.
A long, continuous sound filled the room.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
Final.
"…No pulse."
"Start compressions."
Immediately.
No hesitation.
Hands moved.
Forceful.
Precise.
"…Again—."
"…Come on—."
The body responded mechanically.
But the monitor didn't.
Still flat.
Still silent.
"…Charge."
A pause.
"…Clear."
A sharp movement.
A jolt.
His body reacted—
then stilled again.
The monitor didn't change.
"…Again."
"Clear."
Another shock.
Nothing.
Only that same sound.
Endless.
Cold.
One of the surgeons exhaled sharply.
"…We're losing him."
The lead surgeon didn't look up.
"…Keep going."
Another round.
Another attempt.
Nothing.
The sound didn't stop.
"…Time?"
No one answered immediately.
Because they all knew.
"…Time of death—."
The words settled heavily into the room.
"…22:47."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Absolute.
Hands lowered slowly.
Machines quieted.
No more urgency.
No more movement.
Only stillness.
And Izana—
didn't move.
Outside—
the doors opened.
Leah stood immediately.
Too fast.
Her eyes searching.
Her breath uneven.
"…What happened?"
No one answered right away.
That silence—
said everything.
Dante's posture shifted.
Subtle.
But sharp.
Elias went completely still.
The surgeon stepped forward.
Measured.
Careful.
"…We did everything we could."
Leah stared at him.
Like the words didn't reach her.
"…What?"
Her voice was quiet.
Too quiet.
The surgeon didn't look away.
"…He didn't make it."
Silence.
Then—
"…No."
Soft.
Disbelieving.
"…No, that's not—."
Her head shook slowly.
Then again.
"…No, you didn't."
Her voice trembled now.
"…You didn't try hard enough."
Dante stepped slightly closer.
"…Leah—."
"…No."
She pulled away instinctively.
Her hands trembling.
"…He promised me."
Her voice cracked.
"…He said he would come back."
No one spoke.
No one interrupted.
Because there was nothing to say.
Her breathing became uneven.
Her hand pressed tightly against her stomach.
Protective.
Instinctive.
"…You said—."
Her voice broke again.
"…You said he was going to be okay."
Silence answered her.
Again.
Always silence.
Dante's jaw tightened.
"…They did everything they could."
Leah shook her head immediately.
"…No."
A pause.
"…He doesn't just… stop."
Her voice dropped.
Almost pleading now.
"…That's not how he is."
Elias finally spoke.
Low.
Controlled.
"…Leah."
She didn't look at him.
"…No."
Another pause.
Then—
quietly—
"…I want to see him."
Dante's eyes shifted to her instantly.
"…Leah—."
"…I want to see him."
Her voice didn't rise.
Didn't break again.
It settled.
Firm.
Final.
Elias looked at the surgeon.
A brief pause passed between them.
Then—
"…You can go in."
The doors opened again.
Slower this time.
Leah walked inside.
Alone.
The room felt different now.
Colder.
Quieter.
Still.
The machines were silent.
The lights too bright.
Too clean.
Too empty.
Izana lay on the table.
Unmoving.
Untouched.
Like everything that had just happened hadn't been enough to disturb him.
Leah stopped just inside the room.
Her chest rising and falling unevenly.
Her hands trembling at her sides.
"…No…"
A whisper.
Barely there.
Then—
she walked forward.
Slow.
Each step heavier than the last.
She reached him.
Her hand lifted—
hesitated—
then gently took his.
Cold.
Still.
Her fingers tightened slightly around his.
"…Iz…"
No response.
She leaned forward.
Carefully.
Pressing her forehead gently against his.
Her eyes closed.
And finally—
a tear slipped free.
Then another.
Quiet.
Uncontrolled.
"…You're not allowed to do this."
Her voice trembled.
"…You said you'd stay."
Her grip tightened.
"…You said you wouldn't leave me."
Silence.
Only silence.
Her other hand moved to her stomach.
Resting there.
Protective.
"…Zarek is here."
Her voice broke softly.
"…Your son…"
A pause.
Her breath uneven.
"…You don't even know him yet."
Nothing.
No movement.
No response.
Her fingers trembled slightly against his hand.
"…He's waiting for you."
Another tear fell.
"…I told you… he's strong."
Her voice shook.
"…But he's still small."
A pause.
Her head pressed slightly closer to his.
"…He needs you."
Her breath hitched.
"…I need you."
Behind her—
at the doorway—
Dante and Elias stood.
Silent.
Watching.
Dante's gaze dropped briefly.
Then lifted again.
Elias remained completely still.
Leah didn't notice.
She stayed where she was.
Still holding him.
Still waiting.
But nothing came.
Nothing changed.
After a moment—
she slowly lifted her head.
Her hand loosened slightly.
Not fully.
Just enough.
She stood.
Unsteady.
But upright.
Her gaze lingered on him.
Taking him in.
Memorizing.
Every detail.
Every line.
Then—
she leaned forward again.
Pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.
Lingering.
Her eyes closing briefly.
"…I love you."
The words barely carried.
But they stayed.
Then—
she turned.
Slow.
Deliberate.
And started walking away.
One step.
Then another.
The distance grew.
The silence deepened.
Behind her—
nothing changed.
Or so she thought.
Then—
a sound.
Sharp.
Sudden.
A single—
beep.
Leah stopped.
Her body froze.
But she didn't turn.
Not yet.
Her breath caught.
"…No…"
A whisper.
Uncertain.
Another—
beep.
Her head turned slightly.
Slow.
Careful.
Like she was afraid to hope.
Behind her—
the monitor flickered.
A faint line moved.
Unsteady.
But there.
Her eyes widened.
"…Iz…?"
Then—
his finger twitched.
Small.
Barely noticeable.
But real.
Leah's breath hitched.
Her body moved before she could think.
Turning—
stepping forward—
"…No—no, that's—."
She stopped again.
Because she heard it.
Faint.
Weak.
But unmistakable.
"…Li…"
The voice came from behind her.
From him.
From the man who wasn't supposed to be speaking anymore.
Her eyes widened completely.
Her breath shattered.
"…Izana?"
Silence didn't follow this time.
Because he was back.
And she wasn't dreaming.