Doctor

Time went on, but Elijah had made a mistake.

One moment of curiosity had led him to peer into his own soul—just like he had in the womb—to look at the Void Seed. But unlike before, it made him very, very tired. Maybe it was because he'd unconsciously been using his mother's energy when he was still inside her, or maybe it was just that his tiny body couldn't handle the strain. Whatever the reason, the act had drained him completely. T The aftermath of using his soul hit him like a freight train. His body shut down, slipping into a deep, heavy sleep that seemed unbreakable. He was so tired.

He could barely stay awake long enough to breastfeed. His mother had to nudge him, brush his cheek, even tickle his feet to get him to stir. He was a ragdoll in her arms, drifting in and out of consciousness. Days blurred together, and the world outside his dreams felt distant and unreal.

Then, one morning, he woke to the sound of his mother's voice, sharp and tight with worry. By this point, he felt mostly recovered—his strength returning, his mind clearer. But he had slept a lot, more than a normal baby ever should.

"He's sleeping too much, Abel. I am going to schedule a doctor appointment."

And that was how the doctor appointment happened.

A drone arrived at the house—a sleek, silver piece of technology that hummed softly as it moved through the air. It hovered into the room, its polished surface reflecting the soft glow of the house lights. Mechanical appendages unfolded with unsettling precision, each joint moving too smoothly to be natural. It was equipped with a screen, a camera, and an array of sensors that immediately began scanning Elijah's tiny form.

His mother held him close, her expression a mix of worry and determination. She didn't flinch when the soft beams of light washed over them, the drone's scanners probing for answers.

The doctor's face appeared on the screen—sharp features, a bald head, and a cybernetic eye that glowed a cool blue. The eye whirred and clicked as it adjusted focus, tiny mechanisms shifting beneath the translucent lens. He spoke in a calm, clinical tone, asking questions, directing the drone's diagnostics with the practiced ease of someone who had done this a thousand times before.

Elijah did his best to act normal—or as normal as a baby could. He yawned at the right moments, reached out for his mother, and tried to keep the strange, lingering heaviness out of his expression. He wanted to seem small, vulnerable—nothing but an ordinary infant.

But the doctor was thorough. The drone's sensors swept over him, and the data that scrolled across the screen drew the doctor's attention. His murmurs grew more focused, his eye narrowing as he absorbed the information.

"Muscle development is well ahead of schedule," the doctor noted, his voice cool and professional. "His neuromuscular response is exceptional. Advanced synaptic conductivity within his nervous system. Oculomotor control is far beyond typical for his age."

Elijah's tiny fingers twitched. He didn't need to be told he was under a microscope. His body was developing too quickly—reflexes too sharp, vision too clear. He had overdone it. Whatever had happened in the womb might have saved him and his sister, but it had left him with more than just a strong start. It had made him a walking anomaly.

The doctor's eye glowed a little brighter, the screen reflecting a stream of data. "I'd like to examine his sister as well."

Elijah's mother's expression shifted instantly. Her voice turned cold, soft but with an edge sharp enough to cut. "That won't be necessary."

The doctor hesitated. There was a brief silence, filled only by the soft hum of the drone and the rhythmic beep of its diagnostics. His glowing eye narrowed, the blue light intensifying.

Elijah knew he had to act. His instincts kicked in, and he did what any baby would do—he started to cry. Small, pitiful whimpers, his tiny hands reaching out for his mother. His eyes, still slightly glassy with lingering exhaustion, made him look more fragile than ever.

I'm just a baby. Hold me. I'm tired. That's all.

His mother didn't hesitate. She pulled him close, and the doctor's probing ceased. The drone's light dimmed, its arms retracting into its sleek body. Whatever suspicions had been brewing, his mother had cut them off at the source.

Elijah knew he had to be more careful. Whatever the Void Seed was, whatever it meant, it would have to wait. He couldn't afford another mistake—not when his mother was already watching him too closely.

For now, he would focus on being a baby. A normal, tired, perfectly ordinary baby.