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STORYLINE: Dr. Seojin. A face that wore the sterile ambition of a man who catalogued patients as puzzles, spoke into his datapad without once meeting Minjo’s eyes. His voice was clipped, impersonal, like a technician reading a broken instrument.
“Case of Yoon Jihoon. Witnessed public combustion, presumed fourth-degree photothermal trauma. Current damage consistent with augment rejection cascade. Recommend immediate transfer to a private facility for liability containment.”
“Absolutely not.” Minjo was to her feet in an instant, brandishing the digital authority of her guardianship like a blade. “You can submit your proposal, and the name of that private facility, in writing. I will evaluate it.”
A flash of irritation crossed the doctor's polished features. He fled the room muttering a string of medical jargon that sounded suspiciously like insults.
The doctors were a problem, vultures in clean lab coats. Minjo watched them all with the predatory stillness of a gatekeeper, scanning their credentials and dismissing anyone with a whiff of black-market biotech or, worse, GIN AESTHETICA™. Paranoia was a logical response. She would not let Dr. Ginerva’s creatures finish what they had begun.
The world shrank to the size of the room. Jihoon lay suspended inside a sealed therapeutic tank, -- a glass coffin filled with a shimmering, oxygenated biogel. Wrapped head to toe in white smart-bandages, he looked almost serene; the only other presences were the soft blink of the vitals monitor and Minjo, keeping a solitary vigil.
The university had expelled him. While she packed his life into boxes —textbooks, anime posters—with a cold, methodical fury.
Days acquired a grim rhythm: monitor the tank, cross-reference charts, keep the journal. Each night she performed a private, clinical ritual. With wire clippers from her robotics kit she snipped the glossy black claws that pushed through the bandages. The sharp snap echoed in the quiet. Then she placed the jagged fragments of obsidian-like keratin into a specimen vial, labeled it, then added it to the macabre collection in her diagnostic kit.
Guilt was not a variable; it was a constant, an acid that corroded logic. The memory of the baseball game was an ache that never faded. He had trusted her, and she, in her clinical arrogance, had armed him with nothing more than cheap sunscreen against a star. It was his scream—a sound she heard every time she closed her eyes. In that final, agonizing moment, it was her name he had shrieked, a hand reaching for her through the flames, pleading, "Save me."
A single, hot tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away with an angry, impatient swipe of her sleeve before turning back to her journal.
The blood transfusions were the strangest variable. The bags of synthetic O-negative would simply… vanish. In her journal, beneath a string of complex equations, Minjo wrote three words and circled them until the pen tore the page: ...Signs of Vampirism?
When a new surgical team scheduled an amputation for his arms, Minjo refused. She made them unwrap the limbs. The room fell silent. The flesh beneath was not carbonized, but a latticework of raw, pink scars over newly formed tissue. Damaged, yes. Horrifically so. But healing.
With a sigh, she sank back in the stiff hospital chair. Her gaze settled on a sketch of the mysterious Black Snakeskin Box surrounded by question marks. It had been hidden under the floorboards of Jihoon's bedroom, a secret he hid above all others. Why? Stranger still, when she opened it, the contents of an exotic pricey sunscreen disappeared, and in its place materialized a note, "Happy now, Bitch?"
Later that night, a woman she didn't recognize approached. She was dressed more like an intern than a nurse, and she moved with upbeat attitude that was more unnerving than comforting. A clinical facemask obscured her mouth, but her eyes—obvious cybernetic models—crinkled with a practiced warmth.
With a sigh, she sank back in the stiff hospital chair. Her gaze settled on a sketch of the mysterious Black Snakeskin Box surrounded by question marks. It had been hidden under the floorboards of Jihoon's bedroom, a secret he hid above all others. Why? Stranger still, when she opened it, the contents of an exotic pricey sunscreen disappeared, and in its place materialized a note, "Happy now, Bitch?"
Later that night, a woman she didn't recognize approached. She was dressed more like an intern than a nurse, and she moved with upbeat attitude that was more unnerving than comforting. A clinical facemask obscured her mouth, but her eyes—obvious cybernetic models—crinkled with a practiced warmth.
"Oh you poor thing. Have you been here all day? You look like you're about to fall over," she said, her voice a low, soothing hum.
Minjo’s internal database of hospital staff came up empty for her half covered face.
The nurse chuckled, a low, soothing hum. “It’s understandable. I was at that game too," she confessed, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "I don't believe a word they're saying about him. He's the victim here. You are a good girlfriend to him.” She placed a steaming cup in Minjo’s hands. “But you need to care for yourself too. Here, Chamomile. It will help you get some real rest."
Minjo’s analytical mind should have dissected the gesture, but her defenses were worn to nothing. For the first time, someone saw her pain.
The tea was warm and sweet. She drank it down, and a thick, dreamless curtain fell with astonishing speed. Outside the hospital, the street erupted into a symphony of chaos, screaming with sirens and the sounds of a violent chase, but Minjo was already gone, lost in a slumber so profound it felt less like rest and more like a system shutdown. She was too tired to care, and for the first time in a month, she did not dream of fire.
A soft knock pulled her from the depths. Minjo blinked, the grey morning light feeling abrasive and alien. Jihoon's three closest friends, Echo, Ghost, and Plague, stood in the doorway, their arms laden with cheap flowers and well loved retro game cartridges.
Echo opened her mouth to speak, but her eyes darted past Minjo. “Where’s Jihoon?”
Panic seized her. The glass coffin was empty.
She bolted to the nurses' station. “Yoon Jihoon,” she demanded. “Where is he?”
The admitting nurse, a woman with a practiced smile, tapped at her console. “Mr. Yoon was discharged late last night into the care of his legal guardian.”
“Impossible,” Minjo’s voice rose. “His parents are dead. I’m his medical proxy.”
“The paperwork is all in order.” The nurse swiveled her monitor around. On the signature line was a name that felt like a curse: Dr. Lucien Ginerva.
“That’s forged,” Minjo choked out.
“I assure you, a high-ranking officer verified everything.” She pulled up the security footage.
The timestamp read 2:17 AM. A towering, broad-shouldered police officer stood beside MasterGin. Between them Jihoon, still wrapped in bandages, was wheeled out on a gurney. Gone.
Echo gasped, pointing at the screen. "That's him! The officer from the crash!"
A wave of dizziness washed over Minjo. Her gaze fell on the half-empty cup. Drugged. The thought wasn't a question; it was a diagnosis. The ice in her gut flash-froze into white-hot, analytical fury. They had treated her like an obstacle. They would find she was a problem that fought back.
"Ghost, Echo, Plague," she commanded, her voice cutting through the sterile air. "Come with me. I have something to show you."
It's time to say goodbye to this round of CyberFair, and Season 2 of Escape from Club Apophis. Yes, I know I said there would be no more posts for CF, but I had a burning need to tell more story and show more things. So BONUS post! Wooo! *throws confetti* The season finale mostly wraps up the journey to unite Snow White / Jihoon's rescue team, the 7 dwarfs: Lisa Liemawr is Happy, Kyle is Grumpy, Kyra is Sleepy, Plague is Sneezy, Echo is Dopey, and Ghost is Bashful.
For the Nurse Intern's look I used the AsteroidBox Mia outfit. It has a rich hud of colors and PBR options. The pBR version has glow LED elements. ...The perfect hair for young nurse is the Echo hair by Sintiklia. There are also Cyber bunny ears in the pack, and each texture hud has a lot of color options. ...The striking cybernetic blue eyes are Nyxa by Euphoric. The LED body lines at Justice by Abyssal. The pack comes with multiple colors and opacity BOM tattoos, applier to create shine material, and lights to best to show off the effect. ...Supplying the Medical needs are The Kataonik Nurse hat tinted black, Gehenna's stethoscope, Mask by Violetility, latex gloves by Antaya, and the frightening Mad Doctor's Equipment by Cabalpier.
On her, The Suspicious Nurse Paine:
Outfit: AsteroidBox Mia Outfit - LaraX, black [mesh](CyberFair)(499L)
Hair: Sintiklia Echo head 1 Fitted, blond [mesh](CyberFair)(150L)
Skin: VOGLIA ELEKTRA Skin, EvoX, Icy With Brows [BOM](CyberFair)(699L)
Eyes: EUPHORIC Nyxa ~[BOM] #08[mesh](CyberFair)(380L)
Tattoo/Shine: ABYSSAL JUSTICE CYBERTECH [BOM, Applier]
Gloves: ANTAYA Latex gloves "Keily" FATPACK Lara X [mesh]
Syringe, bone saw: CABALPIER Mad Doctor's Equipment - Bundle [mesh]
Hat: katat0nik (W) Nurse Hat for Apron Dress [mesh]
Stethoscope: Gehenna ::G:: Stethoscope
Mask: Violetility Nurse Feelgood Mask [mesh]
Head, eyes: LeLUTKA lel EvoX LILLY 3.1 [mesh](3990L)
Body: Maitreya Mesh Body Lara [mesh](2750L)
Pose: Poseidon Poses Nightmare Slasher
...Thanks to my blogger bat buddy Aarya for letting me cosplay her once more for the blog.
Location:
Insilco
Location:
Insilco
BONUS IMAGES: inworld raw shot, hi-res, midday sky.
