"Uhh..." A slight, weak groan sounded in the quiet room, but then silence reigned again.
The only sound heard was a periodic dripping sound, almost faint and might be missed if one didn't listen carefully.
"Ahh..." An inaudible sigh pierced the quietness.
Ren stirred, feeling like his body was mauled by a speeding train; his bones were brittle and hurting with the slightest movement.
'I'm alive?' Ren's sleeping brain suddenly awoke, sharply processing his state.
His eyes flickered open, though the world swam in a haze of grey; the ceiling, a blank expanse of white concrete, seemed to tilt and sway. The air was heavy, smelling faintly of sterile disinfectant.
He tried to move, digging his elbow onto the semi-hard surface beneath him but a jolt of pain shot through him, seizing every muscle and sinew. He fell back against the hard surface he was on, a gasp escaping his lips.
His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird, and a knot of fear tightened in his gut.
He, very slowly, turned his face to the side to see where he was. He furrowed his brows as he realised that he was indeed alive and lying on the bed in a very clean, disinfected clinic. Everything looked pristine white, beds orderly arranged and dressed, lights brighter than his future. Unlike their meagre, always-dirty one back at Base7 with that signature urine and blood combo.
The rhythmic drip, drip, drip echoed in the stillness, and he realised that the source wasn't far away from him, the little prickling discomfort on his arm told him that he'd been placed on an infusion.
"Ugh!" He grunted as a sharp, throbbing ache pulsed at the back of his head, a memory of a sudden, brutal impact. The last thing he remembered was... a bright light, a deafening sound of a gunshot, and then nothing.
The human mind was a gentle tyrant, making you feel only what you think of; Ren's shoulder suddenly throbbed with an unimaginable pain, his stomach pulsed, a kind of pulse that felt like all his nerves were connected to that area, making it feel heavy, tugging, pulsing, and fucking hurting.
Axton had shot him in his lower right abdomen.
"Bastard - uh!" He gritted his teeth, even speaking was a punishment.
Ren roamed his eyes around, He felt utterly alone, lost in a sea of pain and confusion. His hand, shaking slightly, reached for his head. His fingers found a tender, swollen lump, sticky with what he knew had to be blood. He couldn't remember sustaining that wound, it might have happened in the heat of everything.
He had to get up, escape immediately from this hellhole. But his body refused to cooperate, a useless, trembling mess of pain and exhaustion; he wouldn't even be able to take two successful steps and his body would pile up on the floor like a weak, used rag.
The silence stretched, broken only by the persistent dripping and the ragged sound of his own breathing.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps and every cell in his body froze.
The footsteps were deliberate, unhurried, yet each one resonated in the sterile quiet of the room, growing louder with every passing second. Ren's breath hitched.
He closed his eyes, feigning sleep, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The pain in his head and shoulder, the deep, persistent ache in his abdomen—it all intensified, a chorus of agony amplified by his terror.
A shadow fell across him. He could feel the presence standing over his bed, could almost sense the weight of their gaze. The footsteps had stopped right beside him. The air seemed to thicken, the silence stretching taut until it felt like it might snap.
He waited, his muscles coiled tight, every nerve screaming.
A hand reached out, not to touch him, but to adjust the infusion bag hanging beside his bed. He heard a soft rustle of fabric, the metallic click of a clasp. Then, a low voice, calm and measured, broke the silence.
"I know you're awake."
Ren's eyes shot open. The man standing over him was a stranger, tall and broad-shouldered, with an impassive face framed by short, dark hair. He was dressed in a simple, grey V-neck tunic and trousers, a stark contrast to the sterile white of the clinic. The man's eyes, a piercing shade of blue, held a quiet intensity that sent a chill down Ren's spine.
"Who, who are you?" Ren's voice was a dry, raw croak.
The man didn't answer immediately. He simply observed Ren, his gaze cataloguing the fear in Ren's eyes, the tension in his body.
"You're in the infirmary," the man finally said, his voice even. "You've been unconscious for two days." He gestured vaguely to the intravenous drip. "I'm just stabilising you until you're fit to meet the captain again, " he explained calmly.
Ren's heart skipped a beat, 'Two days!' His mind ran back home, to his sister.
Reed had given him two days to return from this mission or Mira would be thrown out of the base.
He had failed. What was Mira's fate? Has she beastified? Thrown out?
He felt the sharp claws of helplessness gripping his heart and soul, and the mention of meeting Axton again dampened his already sour mood.
He tried to sit up, a fresh wave of agony making him gasp.
The man's hand shot out, not to restrain him, but to press a single finger to his lips, a gesture for silence. "Easy," he said, his voice softer now. "You're still in shock. Just rest."
Ren's mind raced. An infirmary? Two days? He felt the cold fear grip him again.
Axton had shot him. He was supposed to be dead, or at least left for dead.
Who was this man, and why had he been saved? The man's words were reassuring, but his presence was anything but.
Was he a doctor? A guard? A new kind of jailer?
"Why?" Ren managed to whisper, his eyes fixed on the man's. "Why am I here? Not dead."
The man's expression remained unreadable. He simply adjusted the drip one last time before turning away.
He took three steps, but suddenly turned back to face Ren. "I'm experimenting on you, Renault. That's why I'm keeping you alive... against the captain's orders. If you still want to live and leave, you will cooperate with me." His calm voice explained, his eyes remaining passive.
Ren gasped, realisation dawning on him, "Dr. Corvin." He whispered, shocked.