CHAPTER 34: The Fugitive Part 5

CHAPTER 34: The Fugitive Part 5

The morgue at Enid Corp was a cube of stainless steel and cold light. The air smelled of disinfectant and the metallic stillness of death. On the autopsy table, Fénix Rogers's body lay motionless, the pallor of his face brutally contrasting with the dark splatters of dried blood and the wounds that marked him. The halogen lights reflected his absence of life.

Enid stood by the gurney, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She wasn't crying. Her face was a mask of fractured professionalism, a thin veil over a storm of frustration and guilt. Beside her, Dr. Aris, the chief medical examiner, adjusted her latex gloves with a precise snap.

"Ms. Enid, with your permission," said Dr. Aris, her voice a neutral echo in the sterile room. "I will proceed with the full autopsy. Rogers's lycan physiology, especially his documented resistance to the Uber Lycan serum, is an enigma. Dissection could reveal tissue adaptations, cellular-level mutations... something we could replicate. Enhance our operatives. It would be... a legacy."

Enid didn't look away from Fénix's face. She took a deep breath, a sigh that weighed like lead.

"Do it," she ordered, her voice harsher than usual. "But I want a real-time report of every finding, no matter how minor. This is not an experiment. It's... personal."

Dr. Aris nodded, taking a scalpel from the surgical tray. The steel gleamed under the cruel light.

"I always thought Subject Rogers would be a fascinating specimen," she commented, with the academic coldness of one who sees a puzzle, not a person. "I never anticipated the opportunity to examine him at this... depth."

Enid didn't respond. Her attention was fixed on the instrument descending toward Fénix's pale torso. But just before the tip of the blade made contact, the air thickened. A low-frequency hum, barely perceptible, vibrated in the bones, not in the ears. The doctor stopped, the scalpel trembling slightly in her hand.

"Did you hear that?" asked Enid, her combat instinct alert, her eyes scanning the corners of the room.

"No," replied the medical examiner, bewildered. "Just the ventilation system."

But her movement had lost its certainty. With greater caution, she pressed the blade against the skin. The instant the edge broke the epidermis, a violent spasm ran through Fénix's inert body.

Dr. Aris jerked back sharply, the scalpel clattering to the floor.

"My God! That's not normal! Post-mortem reflexes don't...!"

Her voice choked. Fénix's eyes snapped open.

It wasn't a slow blink back to consciousness. It was like two headlights switching on in the night. And then, the body sat up with an unnatural fluidity, muscles and tendons regenerating with a crunchy, wet sound that raised the hair on Enid's arms. Fénix stretched his arms above his head with an exaggerated yawn, as if waking from a pleasant nap, not clinical death.

"Ugh," he exhaled, his voice a bit hoarse but surprisingly normal. "What time is it? Is it breakfast time already or are we still on the night shift?"

Dr. Aris stood frozen, her professionalism shattered, muttering to herself under her breath.

"This... this defies all medical logic, all known physiology... What kind of creature are you?"

Fénix rubbed the spot where the scalpel had left a thin line of blood that was already closing. He gave her a crooked smile, a flash of his old sarcastic self, but his eyes held a new, darker depth.

"The kind of creature that's really bad at staying dead, apparently."

Enid, overcoming the initial shock, closed the distance in two steps. Without a word, she hugged him with a strength that surprised them both. It was a brief, intense gesture, loaded with a relief so profound it almost hurt.

"Fénix!" her voice was a hoarse whisper, charged with an emotion she rarely allowed. "You have no idea... I thought we'd lost you."

Fénix, disconcerted by the hug, gave her a few awkward pats on the back.

"Lost me? Nah, you know I'm like a bad weed. I always sprout back up."

Enid pulled away, recomposing her leader's facade. She took the tablet from Dr. Aris's trembling hand.

"Dr. Aris, this does not leave this room. Erase all records. It was a sensor error. An anomaly. Understood?"

The medical examiner, still pale, nodded, too shocked to argue.

Enid turned to Fénix, who was now adjusting his bloodied shirt as if nothing had happened.

"I must say, Fénix. You seem... different. Renewed. Is there something I should be aware of?"

Fénix finished buttoning his shirt, avoiding her direct gaze.

"Share?" he let out a short, dry laugh. "Let's just say recent events gave me... perspective. Nothing you need to worry about, boss."

Enid studied him for a moment longer. She knew he was lying. But she also knew pressing him now would lead nowhere. She changed the subject, her tone becoming businesslike.

"Speaking of perspective, I have news. From now on, you will have a new instructor."

Fénix stopped adjusting his belt and looked up, one eyebrow raised in pure skepticism.

"A new what? Didn't I have enough of Alucard's sunny charm? Tell me this is a bad joke."

"It's not a joke," Enid emphasized, sliding her finger across the tablet. "I planned this since you returned from your... retreat with him. Someone with your peculiar skill set needs a more specialized approach. At 15:00 hours, private training room Alpha. Don't be late."

Fénix snorted, finishing putting on his torn jacket with a gesture of annoyance.

"Great. What's next? A babysitter to make sure I don't fall down the stairs?"

Enid pointed the tablet at him.

"Don't complain, Rogers. It's for your own good. And you know it."

Just as Enid turned to leave, Fénix spoke again, his tone now tinged with genuine curiosity.

"Hey, yesterday you said we were meeting this afternoon. What happened to that? Am I being relegated by a new ghost trainer?"