The OR prep room buzzed with controlled chaos as Carlos Rodriguez was wheeled in, his small chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths. The cardiac monitor's insistent beeping filled the space like a countdown timer—which, Ethan realized grimly, it essentially was.
SYSTEM ALERT: Patient cardiac function deteriorating. Estimated time to complete cardiac failure: 23 minutes.
WARNING: Current observer status - HIGH SCRUTINYDr. Webb observation level: MAXIMUMRecommendation: Minimize system ability usage
Ethan's jaw clenched as he scrubbed in. Through the observation window, he could see Dr. Webb settling into the gallery with a tablet, stylus poised. The man wasn't even pretending this was a casual observation anymore.
"Talk me through your approach, Dr. Graves," Webb's voice crackled through the intercom as Ethan entered the OR.
The surgical team looked up expectantly. Dr. Martinez, the anesthesiologist, was already preparing Carlos while two surgical nurses arranged instruments with practiced efficiency. Everyone knew this was likely a futile effort—everyone except Ethan.
"The tumor has essentially created a cage around the heart," Ethan began, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through him. "Standard approach would be too traumatic given the patient's current cardiac instability. Instead, I'm going to work in segments, creating relief zones to allow cardiac function to stabilize between phases."
It sounded reasonable. Professional. The kind of innovative thinking that might come from extensive research and brilliant surgical intuition. What he didn't mention was that his Disease Pathology Sight was currently showing him the tumor's structure in perfect three-dimensional detail, highlighting weak points and safe approach vectors like a GPS system for cancer.
"Scalpel."
The first incision was critical. Too shallow and he'd waste precious time. Too deep and he'd hit the pericardium before establishing proper visualization. With Enhanced Focus engaged, the world narrowed to the surgical field. Every muscle fiber, every blood vessel appeared with crystalline clarity.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Surgical Precognition activated. Optimal incision path highlighted.
A faint blue line appeared in his enhanced vision, showing the exact trajectory. Ethan forced himself to deviate slightly from it—not enough to compromise the surgery, but enough to appear human.
"Excellent initial approach," Dr. Webb's voice filtered down. "Your research on segmented cardiac tumor removal is clearly paying off."
Research. If only he knew.
"Martinez, how's our patient?"
"Stable for now, but his cardiac output is marginal. We don't have long."
Ethan nodded, beginning the delicate work of separating tumor tissue from healthy heart muscle. This was where the Miracle Worker Fragment would prove its worth—allowing him to work with precision that bordered on the supernatural while maintaining the appearance of merely exceptional skill.
Each cut had to be perfect. The tumor had grown into the heart muscle like roots into soil, and extracting it required separating individual cellular layers. With his enhanced abilities, Ethan could see exactly where healthy tissue ended and malignant cells began. The boundary appeared as distinct as a painted line.
"Remarkable precision," Dr. Webb murmured. "The tumor separation is... exceptionally clean."
Sweat beaded on Ethan's forehead despite the cool OR temperature. Every compliment from Webb felt like an accusation. He was walking a tightrope—perform well enough to save Carlos, but not so well that it defied medical explanation.
"First segment clear," Ethan announced, removing a section of tumor the size of a ping-pong ball. "Martinez, cardiac function?"
"Improving already. Output up fifteen percent."
The surgical team exchanged glances. That kind of immediate improvement was unusual but not impossible. Ethan had carefully chosen which section to remove first—the one causing the most mechanical interference with the heart's pumping action.
SYSTEM ALERT: Progress optimal. Patient stability increasing. Dr. Webb suspicion level: ELEVATED.
As Ethan worked on the second segment, his Enhanced Focus began revealing something his abilities hadn't shown before—microscopic metastases, cancer cells that had spread beyond the main tumor mass. They appeared as tiny red dots scattered throughout the surrounding tissue, invisible to normal observation but deadly if left behind.
This was the real challenge. Standard surgery would miss these microscopic seeds, leading to recurrence within months. But removing them all would require precision no human surgeon could possess.
"Dr. Graves," Dr. Webb's voice had an edge to it now. "Your technique is quite unusual. The tissue dissection is remarkably... efficient."
"Years of practice," Ethan replied, his hands never pausing. "And some new research on cellular boundary identification."
He was removing the microscopic metastases while appearing to perform routine tissue clearing. Each tiny cancer cell was guided away from healthy tissue with movements so subtle they looked like natural hand tremor. The Disease Pathology Sight made each malignant cell glow like a beacon, allowing him to extract them with tweezers while maintaining the façade of standard surgical technique.
"Output up twenty-five percent now," Martinez reported, wonder creeping into his professional tone. "I've never seen cardiac function improve this dramatically during active surgery."
"Patient's young," Ethan said. "Children are resilient."
Half true. Carlos was resilient, but what was really happening was that Ethan was performing surgery with a level of precision that eliminated virtually all surgical trauma. The heart was improving because it wasn't being damaged in the process of being saved.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Level 3 upgrade still available. Recommend activation for final tumor segments.
Ethan ignored the prompt. He was already pushing the boundaries of believability. A sudden increase in ability would be impossible to explain.
The third segment was the most dangerous—wrapped around the heart's electrical conduction system. One wrong move and Carlos would need a pacemaker for life, assuming he survived at all. Through the Disease Pathology Sight, Ethan could see the delicate nerve pathways like golden threads woven through the red mass of tumor tissue.
"This next section will be challenging," he announced, more for Webb's benefit than his team's. "I'll need to work around the conduction system."
"Take your time," Webb said, but his tone suggested the opposite. Take your time, and let me see if you can really do the impossible.
Ethan began the most delicate dissection of his career. Each cut had to avoid not just the major electrical pathways, but the microscopic neural connections that would affect heart rhythm. The Miracle Worker Fragment guided his movements with supernatural precision, but he forced himself to pause periodically, to make small corrections, to appear human.
"Rhythm still stable," Martinez called out. "This is... this is incredible work, Dr. Graves."
"Lucky positioning," Ethan deflected, even as he removed cancer cells from spaces that shouldn't have been accessible without stopping the heart entirely.
SYSTEM ALERT: Final tumor segment identified. Highest difficulty. Recommend full system ability deployment.
The last section was wrapped around the base of the aorta, the heart's main artery. Standard procedure would require temporarily stopping circulation—a risky proposition for a child already in cardiac distress. But with his enhanced abilities, Ethan could see exactly how to remove the tumor while maintaining blood flow.
"This is remarkable," Dr. Webb's voice was barely audible. "The tumor removal without circulation bypass... how is this possible?"
Ethan's hands paused for a microsecond. That was the question, wasn't it? How was any of this possible?
"Careful anatomical study," he said finally. "And perhaps a bit of luck."
"Luck," Webb repeated, his tone flat.
The final extraction required movements that defied human capability. Ethan had to remove tumor tissue from inside the arterial wall while maintaining structural integrity and blood flow. The Disease Pathology Sight showed him exactly where each cancer cell lurked, and the Miracle Worker Fragment guided his instruments with inhuman precision.
To any observer, it would look like a series of small, careful movements. What they couldn't see was that each movement was perfect—no wasted motion, no accidental trauma, no possibility of error.
"Final segment removed," Ethan announced, lifting away the last piece of tumor. "Beginning closure."
The OR fell silent except for the steady beep of Carlos's heart monitor—stronger now, regular, healthy.
"Cardiac output normal," Martinez said, his voice filled with awe. "Complete cardiac function restoration."
Dr. Webb's voice came through the intercom like a blade. "Dr. Graves, I'll need to speak with you immediately following post-op."
Ethan continued suturing, his hands steady despite the dread pooling in his stomach. He'd saved Carlos—the boy would live, would grow up, would have a normal life. But in doing so, he'd performed a surgery that would be studied for decades, assuming anyone believed it had actually happened.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: Surgery completed successfully. Patient survival probability: 97.3%
ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED: Miracle Worker - Save a patient with less than 5% survival chanceXP GAINED: +150CURRENT LEVEL: 2 (361/200 XP)LEVEL UP AVAILABLE
WARNING: Observer suspicion at critical levels. Recommend immediate cover story preparation.
As Ethan finished the final suture, he looked up at the observation window. Dr. Webb was staring down at him with an expression that was equal parts admiration and suspicion. The man knew he'd just witnessed something impossible.
"Beautiful work," one of the surgical nurses murmured. "I've never seen anything like it."
That was exactly the problem.
Carlos stirred slightly as the anesthesia began wearing off, his small hand moving to his chest. In a few hours, he'd wake up to a world where he had a future again. His parents would cry tears of joy instead of grief. He'd grow up to be whatever he wanted to be.
And Dr. Ethan Graves would have to explain how he'd just performed a medical miracle with nothing but skill and luck.
SYSTEM PROMPT: Dr. Webb investigation imminent. Recommend strategic planning. Level 3 upgrade may provide defensive capabilities.
Ethan began removing his surgical gloves, his mind racing. He'd crossed a line today that he couldn't uncross. There was no explaining what had just happened as normal surgery. Webb had the data, the observations, and now the impossible results.
The system had given him the power to save lives, but it hadn't prepared him for the consequences of using that power.
As he headed toward what would undoubtedly be the most important conversation of his career, Ethan realized that saving Carlos had been the easy part.
Now he had to save himself.