The Burning Phoenix
The metallic tang of her own blood filled Shen Xi's mouth, mingling with the acrid smoke that clawed at her throat. She lay strapped to a cold steel gurney, the sterile white of the laboratory blurring through her pain-racked vision.
Outside, a monstrous fire raged—a deliberate inferno meant to erase all traces of the crime.
"Sister, it had to be done." Shen Ruo's voice, once sickly sweet, now dripped with triumphant malice. Her face, framed by soft blonde hair, was illuminated by the flickering red glow of the fire. "Your bone marrow is a perfect match. Your blood, your organs... they will ensure my survival. And your research? It will make me a star."
Shen Xi tried to scream, but only a gurgle escaped. Her body, drained of blood, felt like an empty shell. She saw the needle marks on her arm and the precise surgical scars on her abdomen where her kidney had been harvested for a "patient" who was, in reality, her stepmother.
This is it, she thought, her genius mind still calculating probabilities even in death's embrace. Betrayed by family, murdered for my bloodline, my talents stolen.
She saw the cold, approving smile of her stepmother and the sneering face of her fiancé, who had promised her eternal love while helping to plan her murder.
No, a silent scream tore through her dissolving consciousness. I refuse. If I get another chance, I will burn you all to ashes. I will take back what's mine. And I will find a way to escape this damned fate.
The ceiling above her cracked, raining sparks. The fire roared, consuming the lab, her stolen research, and her dying body. Just before the blackness swallowed her, a strange, ethereal light flashed within her mind—a complex, crystalline structure. A gift? A curse?