As the surgical saw whined its way toward his chest, Noll's instincts blared. No matter how many times he had undergone mutilation at the hands of the Doom Legion, the pain never truly subsided. He could control his reactions to it, cage his screams, but that didn't make it better.
Under the influence of Lady K's ability, his muscles barely flinched. He couldn't muster any physical resistance against the rapidly approaching blade, but he could still protect his mind from the grotesque visual.
Noll shut his eyes and searched inward. He sought that quiet space, the one he had discovered the very first time he Awakened. His serene forest.
When Noll opened his metaphysical eyes, he was no longer in the red-lit walls of his personal hell. He stood in a dense foliage of thick, dark green trunks, the scent of a briny sea assaulting his nostrils. He called it the 'Quiet Forest.' Doctor Frank, the researcher who had been his only company after his parents left, called it his inner world. But it was Noll's, so it answered to what he called it.
He stood beside the ancient-looking tree that grew from the very center of his island, which was surrounded on all sides by a calm body of water. Looking at the dense foliage, Noll recalled his first visit. It was at the hospital. The island hadn't been this large then. Following the doctor's instructions, he had used his feet to measure it from the center tree: 720 feet. Over the years, it had grown. Now, it was up to 1,263.
"Aaargh!"
A sharp, violent pain erupted in the center of his chest. The surgery had begun. His mind was roughly yanked back to reality. He had screamed in his Quiet Forest, but here, his mouth couldn't even move. He watched helplessly as the saw continued its grisly escapade.
Closing his eyes again, he forcefully pulled his consciousness back to his inner world. The mighty tree at the center of his forest was splitting down the middle, a perfect mirror of the wound being carved into him. He stood and watched, trying to anchor his mind here as the pain worsened, reaching a level no human mind should bear. He didn't pass out. Years of this had granted him a resilience forged in agony. He wouldn't pass out unless he wanted to.
This could be his last time here. He knew that. The tree was only ever harmed when it was his heart. If it was destroyed, he would be too.
He watched the tree continue its fight. Branches snapped and fell. The trunk cracked and splintered. His forest was visibly withering. Amidst the destruction, his Anima fought back. Veiny threads spread from the cracks in the trunk, trying to heal the damage. New branches sprouted, but the destruction was exceeding what his tree could handle. The island itself began to fracture, the sea bleeding through the cracks in the ground. The mighty tree's roots, which had held the island together for so long, began to tear.
"AAHHHAH!!!"
Noll could not hold back his scream anymore. The pain was maddening, far worse than anything he had ever endured. The fight continued as Paleface, the doctor, began to incise the great vessels of his heart.
His Aorta—the trunk of the mighty tree—shattered. His Pulmonary Artery—the roots holding the fractured island together—ceased their battle. His Pulmonary Veins—the dense foliage—instantly withered to dust. His Vena Cava—the sea madly invaded what was left of his island, and the sky above vanished into darkness.
He was dying.
The knowledge came instinctively. The fight left him. He was no longer standing on his island; his consciousness was a mote of dust, floating above the shattered pieces of his world and the carcass of the ancient tree as they were consumed by the sea.
It was over.
As Noll hung in the vacuum, memories he never attended to began to surface.
First, it was Lune. Crazy Lune, carrying so much light in the Doom Legion's slaughterhouse. Her words echoed, a memory from only hours ago: "I don't want to die."
That memory unlocked another, one he thought he had buried forever. He had heard those exact words before. She was as bright as the sun. He was thirteen then; she was younger. She couldn't regenerate like he could. To the Legion, she had been nothing but a juicy, one-time meal. They had made him watch. Her last words before the torture began…
"I don't want to die."
An emotion he thought long dead surged forward. Desire. He wanted something.
He didn't want Lune to die. He couldn't let them extinguish her tiny light. He couldn't be helpless again.
***
Herbert lifted the harvested heart with his gloved hand. It wasn't beating. A heart should continue to beat for up to five minutes after harvest, but the one in his hands had ceased the instant he excised it.
It was a failure. He didn't know what to feel. Ecstatic? Yes. The Doom Legion needed a living heart for their transaction. This was his small victory. He had always theorized Noll's heart was his weakness, and he was right. He had watched the endless spark of life leave Noll's body the moment the heart was removed. But for the heart itself to die… that was an unexpected mercy.
"You are free now," he muttered in a soft whisper.
"What the heck is going on!" Lady K's shout sliced through the room.
"I believe he is dead," Herbert, known as Paleface, answered. He couldn't keep the pleasure from his tone. His wife was a slave, his son was being corrupted, but this victory was his. They would not get their prize.
"The fuck you say!" Lady K's face twisted into a snarl. "You better be bullshitting me, or I will have my men plow through your wife while you watch."
Herbert stumbled backward, his small rebellion instantly extinguished. He carefully placed the heart in its cold storage box.
"Maybe if we try to excite his body's regenerative ability using ACK-X, we can get it to resume functioning," Herbert rambled, running to the red-cross shelf. "If that doesn't work, maybe we can reattach the heart…"
"Shut up and get on with it!" Lady K's scream cut him short, her own expression now laced with dread.
"We get nothing out of this…" she whispered, bringing a hand to her neck. "You are dead to me." Her thumb slid across her throat in a horizontal glide.
The air grew heavier. Herbert knew he was resourceful, but Lady K was a monster, and she knew exactly where his weaknesses lay. Rigor mortis was already beginning to stiffen Noll's body.
Lune sat huddled in the cage, her heart too sore for tears. She watched aimlessly as the surgeon panicked and Lady K's lackeys retreated to the edges of the room. Herbert knew it was time to give up. He wasn't an Awakened; he couldn't perform miracles. He glanced at the tiny glass vial in his kit—a poison he had developed. Inject it, his mind screamed. Threaten her. Save your family.
'What if she doesn't care? What if she lets me die and hurts them anyway?'
Lady K's irises turned blue. Herbert felt his resolve evaporate, replaced by a paralyzing calm.
"Useless shrimp," she harrumphed. "You can't even handle a simple heart harvest, and now you're trying to grow balls." She strode to the surgical table, looking at the open chest with a grimace. "So you have botched Meatbag. And the heart isn't even beating." She began to march around the kneeling surgeon. "Do you know what you have cost me?"
"Please, don't hurt my family," Herbert pleaded, breaking the spell with a desperate effort. "You never asked for my opi—"
A hard kick sent him sliding across the floor.
"You are desperately in need of a neutering, doctor."
Her lackeys picked Herbert up as Lady K dropped her gun, prepping her knuckles. But then, amidst the chaos…
Thump.
A low beat resonated through the room, a pulse everyone felt in their own chest.
Thump.
It came again, stronger this time. It felt like a command: do not give up. Rise against fate. Decide your own path.
The lackeys were too stunned to notice when Paleface slipped from their grasp. The doctor ran madly to his table under the curious gaze of Lady K. He felt the thump coming from the open box that housed Noll's heart.
It was beating.
It was alive.