The operating room buzzed with a grim energy, gauze pads heavy with blood were discarded into a biohazard container.

Leonel was stretched out, as pale as the sheet beneath him, lost in a haze where steel pins were meticulously inserted into his flesh.

He drifted back to a memory, only sixteen, lying next to Alexis under the trailing lights of a meteor, Cordelia in the vision with them.

Back in the present, on the sterile bed, Leonel's hand twitched involuntarily.

He attempted to move his legs, a futile effort.