HertaPlanet.
Previously an inhabitable planet, now molded into the likeness of a genius witch, had its usual tranquility broken by a group of puppets rushing through the corridors, carrying an icebox.
They were at the heart of the never-ending maze, a secluded domain no outsider has ever set foot inside. Guarded by an astronomical number of security layers, this place housed Herta's personal workshop. Rumors had it that the secrets of the universe were kept here, including the method for eternal youth.
Until today, no one but Herta and her puppets had ever entered this sacred place...with the sole exception of Welt Royce, of course.
*Fshhhhh*
The automatic doors slid open, and a wave of cold air spilled outward through the opening. The puppets remained unfazed as they brought the box inside.
The room had been cleared of its usual massive machinery. In its place stood a single operating table, surrounded by surgical equipment and instruments prepared in advance.
Another group of puppets, dressed in blue scrubs, was already waiting in silence and ready to start the operation at a moment's notice.
The ice box was placed on the table. The ice melted and collapsed on its own, but left the body inside untouched as it touched the table.
It was a creepy scene that looked like they were delivering a corpse for an autopsy.
However, that wasn't the case at all.
One of the puppets stepped forward and reached out towards his neck. After three minutes, she felt it…
A pulse…It was so faint that it was almost inaudible, but undeniably present; the heart was still beating.
The information quickly spread among the hive mind, and they wasted no time in starting the operation.
First, they removed all obstructions that could interfere with the surgery, such as his clothes. With a simple gesture, his clothes froze and disintegrated into tiny frost particles, drifting into the air.
Next came the anesthesia alongside cleaning and sterilizing the wound.
Everything was done perfectly in a single continuous momentum.
At that moment, a mirror materialized and expanded, and from it a grumpy Herta stepped out, but once she learned that he still lived, her expression softened. She let out a quiet breath of relief.
It wasn't too late yet.
A trio of puppets approached her, helping her change into blue surgical scrubs and put on a surgical mask over her face. The witch hat, however, remained.
After applying a sterilization 'spell' on herself, Herta finally walked towards them.
There he was, lying still on the table. His expression was peaceful, as if he were being displayed in a British museum. Her hand rose to her chest, where a sensation she hadn't felt in a long time stirred within her.
'This sting in my heart…it's your fault that I feel this way, Royce.' Her gaze sharpened as she picked up her tools. 'So don't you dare to die on me, for I will not permit it.'
She adjusted the surgical light and carefully opened the wound, but the sight she was greeted with wasn't something she expected.
Fine, nearly invisible threads stretched across torn tissue, weaving through his body like a web, as if a spider were living inside him, but Herta understood their true nature instantly.
They were nanomachines.
Royce had once shared the data of this Soulium with her, but she guessed that he had recreated it and improved its designs.
Currently, it was replacing damaged tissue in more critical areas, reconnecting blood vessels and more, but what was more striking was a cluster of them surrounding his heart, forcing it to contract and relax in a steady rhythm, effectively continuing the cardiac cycle artificially.
However, his heart rate was dangerously low, and it was so faint that it was hard to tell that it was even beating to begin with, but it was intentional. In this way, Royce basically turned the 'Hyper Power Saving Mode' that essentially lowered the body activities to the extremes, just enough to prevent any irreversible damage.
To put it simply, Royce forced himself into an extreme hibernation and ended up in a delicate situation between the boundaries of life and death, where only four outcomes were waiting for him.
One, Royce would remain in this state and die within days.
Two, someone would stabilize him and let him recover until he wakes up, but that required full trust in the other person.
Third, someone would kill him in this defenseless state, or worse, exploit him for their experiments.
And, finally, the fourth…it was unknown.
Which was why, for the second and likely the best outcome to happen, Herta had to be the one doing it.
The genius continued the operation, and when she finally tried to prob the nanomachines, it reacted, not defensively as one would expect. No, it recognized her and directed her to its administrator panel!
Herta widened her eyes and realized that, on the brink of death, Royce must have given her the administrator access, something that should have belonged to him alone…
'Royce, you…' Saying that Herta was shocked was an understatement, because she knew that no genius would share their research with another willingly. They may all be eccentric, but the knowledge they discover and accumulate would be kept to themselves…unless there was a deal that favored them or to debunk another theory.
Of course, there were exceptions to the rule, such as Elias Salas, but that was a story for another day.
Through the interface, she naturally came to discover the capabilities of the said nanomachines.
If there were a philosopher's stone for inorganic materials, then this metal should be it.
Its properties, composition, and crystalline structure could all be changed to suit the needs of the user, and if it ever gets damaged, it can use the inorganic material of the surroundings to replicate itself! And if by chance the nanomachines encountered an inorganic material with a new property, they can consume it to learn it.
Basically, a self-evolving inorganic material.
This was the type of masterpiece that could change civilizations across the entire cosmos!
And in Herta's eyes, he entrusted it and his life to her.
Then her cheeks turned into a beautiful shade of pink after she stumbled upon a message Royce left for her.
"What a troublesome assistant I have, but oh well, it's my burden to bear with." Herta murmured, feeling the heat rising and her heart quickening, turning the corner of her lips upwards, but her hands remained steady as a rock. "I'll show you your trust placed in this beautiful genius isn't misplaced."
"After all, I am perfect."
Herta continued the operation, and using the capabilities of the nanomachines and replicating the miracles of the Abundance, Royce's condition slowly but steadily started to improve.
After thirteen hours and four minutes of continuous effort, Royce had finally escaped the clutches of death.
His vitals and body functions returned to normal, and he now only needed to rest and recover until he woke up. Herta had him moved into a secured room, where he would recover undisturbed.
And so Herta waited.
And waited…
And waited…
Hours turned into days, and days turned into weeks, but even after all this time, Royce still hasn't woken up yet.
"Why aren't you waking up?"
–
"Ughr..."
A groan escaped my lips as my eyes slowly opened.
Mind was still groggily, and body was heavy, as if someone had put weight on my clothes.
The last time I felt this tired was waking up to an 8:00 am class on a freezing winter morning, when even leaving the bed required tremendous will and effort.
I yawned, rubbed my eyes, and stretched my arms.
"It seems you've finally woken up." I heard a woman's voice beside me.
"Good morning, how long have I…been…out…" My words faltered as my mind snapped awake once I realized that I didn't recognize this voice or this place.
To be more precise, I had heard it before, but never this close.
I fully opened my eyes and scanned my surroundings.
It appears that I was in the middle of some sort of forest, sitting on the dirt ground, and beside me was a woman sitting on a log.
She had long, dark purple hair with white fringes that covered her left eye. She wore a black choker on her neck, with a croptop of the same color beneath a white jacket with blue and red ends, alongside black shorts and asymmetrical boots.
One of the first things that I noticed about her was the finger guard on her right hand, the flame tattoos on her thighs, and the katana sheathed on her waist.
My mind went blank as I recognised the Self-Annihilator beside me.
There is no mistaking, she is…
"Acheron…?"
"Humn?"
She tilted her head slightly, holding a bitten peach.
"Have we met before?"