*Chapter 2* Consequences

The city was a maze of towering buildings and unfamiliar faces, a world 8192 had only ever glimpsed through the facility's sterile windows. Now, he was running through its streets, his arms trembling under the weight of 024792. Her breathing was shallow, her body limp, and the blood staining her clothes was a grim reminder of the urgency of their situation. He had one task now: save her. But the world outside the facility was harsh and unyielding.

He ran from door to door, desperation fuelling his steps. The first house he approached was a modest home with a neatly trimmed lawn. He knocked frantically, his voice hoarse as he called out, "Please! Help us! She's dying!" The door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged man with a scowl. His eyes widened at the sight of the bloodied pair, but before 8192 could explain further, the man slammed the door shut, muttering, "Not my problem."

The next house was no different. A woman peeked through the curtains, her face pale with shock, but she refused to open the door. "Go away!" she shouted, her voice trembling. "Call the police or something!"

House after house, the response was the same. Fear, rejection, and indifference. 8192's hope dwindled with each closed door. His arms were growing weak, his legs trembling from exhaustion. But he couldn't stop. Not yet.

Finally, he stumbled toward a small, weathered house at the end of a quiet street. The porch light flickered, casting a faint glow on the cracked steps. Summoning the last of his strength, he knocked on the door, his movements slow and unsteady. From inside, a voice grumbled, "Alright, alright! I'm coming! Don't break the door down, you freak!"

The door swung open, revealing a girl with fiery orange hair and a scowl that quickly turned to horror. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight before her: a boy, drenched in blood, cradling a girl whose condition was even worse. 8192's voice was barely a whisper as he pleaded, "Please… help her…" Before he could finish, his legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the porch.

The girl—Aisha—screamed, her voice piercing the night. A man came rushing to the door, his face a mix of confusion and concern. He was tall, with sharp features and an air of quiet authority. His dark eyes flicked to 8192 and 024792, and without hesitation, he barked, "Get the car keys! Now!"

The drive to the hospital was a blur of screeching tires and blaring horns. The man, whose name 8192 still didn't know, weaved through traffic with reckless determination. In the backseat, 8192 clung to consciousness, his hand gripping 024792's as if he could through sheer determination will her to stay alive.

When they arrived at the hospital, chaos erupted. The man burst through the doors, shouting orders like someone used to being obeyed. "Everyone out of my way! You—get a doctor! These kids need help now!" Nurses scrambled to respond, their training kicking in as they assessed the situation. Stretchers were wheeled out, and both 8192 and 024792 were lifted onto them.

As they were rushed down the hallway, 8192's vision blurred. He could hear the doctors talking over him, their voices urgent. "Multiple lacerations, possible internal bleeding—get him into surgery!" But as they began to work on him, he flatlined and exactly 45 seconds later while the lead surgeon was recording time of death, the wounds that had been bleeding moments ago began to close on their own. The doctors froze, their instruments being incorporated into his body as he healed over them.

"What the hell?" one of them muttered, staring at 8192's rapidly healing skin. "He is a conditional regenerator. Administer the LH toxin before he heals with our blades still in him."

8192, barely conscious, managed to mutter, "Don't… waste your time on me. Save her. My bo…dy will deal with the bl…..ades itse…..lf"

The doctors exchanged uneasy glances but didn't argue. They wheeled him into a recovery room, leaving him under the watchful eye of a nurse, while they turned their full attention to 024792.

The operating room was a flurry of activity. 024792's injuries were severe—internal bleeding, broken ribs, and a deep gash across her abdomen. The lead surgeon barked orders, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. "We need to stabilize her now. Get me more blood!"

For a while, it seemed like they were making progress. But then, her heart rate plummeted, the monitor's steady beep turning into a frantic whine. "We're losing her!" one of the doctors shouted. "Get the defibrillator!"

The room erupted into controlled chaos as they fought to save her. The shock of the defibrillator jolted her body, once, twice. Finally, the monitor stabilized, and the tension in the room eased. "She's back," the lead surgeon said, his voice heavy with relief. "Let's finish this."

When 8192 woke, he was in a hospital bed, the sterile white walls a stark contrast to the chaos of his memories. His body ached , but his first thought was of 024792. He sat up abruptly, his eyes scanning the room. Aisha was there, sitting in a chair beside his bed, her orange hair catching the fluorescent light. Her expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of concern in her eyes.

"Where is she?" he demanded, his voice rough. "Is she okay?"

Aisha held up a hand, her tone calm but firm. "Relax. She's alive. The doctors said it was touch and go for a while, but she made it."

8192's shoulders sagged with relief, but the moment was short-lived. The man from the house entered the room, his presence commanding despite his silence. He leaned against the wall, his sharp eyes studying 8192 with an intensity that made him uneasy.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do," the man said, his voice low and measured. "But first, you need to rest. Both of you."

"I'm fine thank you for your help, but we need to leave now."

As if on cue, a nurse pulled back the curtain dividing the room, revealing 024792 in the adjacent bed. Her eyes fluttered open, and when they landed on 8192, they burned with a mixture of anger and pain.

"You," she spat, her voice weak but venomous. "You killed them all."

8192 flinched, but he didn't look away. "I didn't have a choice," he said, his voice steady despite the guilt gnawing at him. "They would have killed me."

024792 struggled to sit up, her movements stiff and pained. "You enjoyed it," she accused, her voice trembling. "I saw it in your eyes."

8192's jaw tightened. "Maybe I did," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But that doesn't mean I wanted to. I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask to be… this."

The room fell silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. Aisha and the man exchanged a glance, their expressions unreadable. Outside, the city buzzed with life, oblivious to the storm brewing within the hospital walls. But for 8192 and 024792, the fight was far from over.

The room fell silent, the weight of 8192's words hanging heavy in the air. 024792 stood frozen, her fists clenched, her breathing ragged. The anger in her eyes flickered, replaced by something else—uncertainty, perhaps even guilt. She took a step back, her gaze dropping to the floor.

" You… you didn't have to kill them. There had to be another way." "Maybe." Came the response, "But in that moment, all I saw was survival. I wasn't thinking about right or wrong. I was thinking about us. About getting you out of there alive."

024792 looked up, tears welling in her eyes, "And what about the others? They didn't deserve to die." "Neither did we. But they made their choice. And I made mine." 8192 grimly responded.

The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with unspoken emotions. Aisha, who had been silently observing the exchange, stepped forward, her voice calm but firm.

"Both of you have been through something unimaginable. But fighting each other isn't going to fix anything. You're safe now. That's what matters."

"Safe? For how long? They'll come for us. You don't know what they're capable of."

024792 nodded reluctantly, "He's right. They won't stop until we're either back in that facility… or dead."

Aisha crossed her arms. These 2 would be difficult. "Then we'll make sure that doesn't happen. You're not alone anymore. I… we'll help you." 8192 was very sceptical of her. Why? Why would a complete stranger risk their life for them? Aisha sensed his unease and addressed his concern while smiling faintly," Because it's the right thing to do. And because… you're just kids. You shouldn't have to face this alone." The room fell quiet again, the tension easing slightly. 024792 sat back down on the edge of her bed, her shoulders slumping as the fight drained out of her. 8192 remained standing, his expression unreadable, but the hardness in his eyes had softened. 024792 finally broke the ice, " So… what now?"

 "Now, we figure out a plan. But first, you both need to rest. You've been through enough for one day."

"Rest won't change what's coming."

"Maybe not. But it'll give you the strength to face it."

As the night wore on, the hospital room grew quieter, the only sound the steady beeping of monitors. 8192 sat by the window, staring out at the city lights, his mind racing. 024792 lay in bed, her eyes closed, but sleep eluded her. Aisha stayed with them, a silent guardian, her presence a small comfort in the chaos.

To Be Continued…