Chapter 10

Darkness surrounded Eliana, and her head was pounding.

Is this the afterlife? She had imagined it to be a little more… spectacular. And she certainly didn't expect to still feel discomfort while being dead. A voice suddenly sounded beside her.

"I know you're awake. Open your eyes." That must mean she was still alive. Whether that was a good or bad thing, she couldn't yet decide.

Slowly, she blinked her eyes open, needing a few moments to adjust to the bright light. She remembered her fight with Keith—or rather, the brutal beating—but to her surprise, she felt no pain. Aside from the pounding headache, her body felt fine. Too fine. Her gaze traveled downward, expecting to see bruises or bandages, yet there was nothing. No injuries, no broken bones, not even a single scratch. Her skin looked as if nothing had happened—as if she hadn't been left bleeding and broken on that mat.

"How…?" she mumbled to herself.

"You were out for three days," the voice beside her spoke again, carrying an edge of irritation. "Your body took too long to regenerate, even after injecting you with SHM. It was a bother taking care of you, so try not to get yourself beaten to a pulp again."

Eliana turned her head, finally recognizing the man sitting beside her. Dane—the mentor who had given her the hoodie last time. He led the medical classes, and right now, he looked like he couldn't be bothered to deal with her.

She stared at him, her mind trying to process his words. None of this made sense. "What? SHM? How is it possible that I healed this quickly? That can't be real… After my fight with Keith, I was half dead." The questions spilled out before she could stop them. Lately, confusion had become a constant in her life, and it was starting to piss her off.

Dane let out a sigh, clearly unimpressed. "SHM is an injection that accelerates the body's healing process. Normally, it only takes a few days, but your injuries were severe, and your body is weak. So, it took longer for you."

"I… I've never heard of anything like that before. Are you bullshitting me?" she asked, skepticism lacing her voice.

"No. Why would I waste my time doing that?" He gave her a flat look. "It's normal that you've never heard of SHM. It's not for the general public. Only for the elite. There's a lot in medicine and technology that's kept from common people."

Eliana frowned as he lifted a small lamp and shone it into her eyes, examining her. "Wait, but something like… what did you call it? SHM? That could help so many people! Why would you hide it? That doesn't make any sense. I always thought the jokes about people who find the cure for cancer getting silenced were just memes on TikTok, but you're telling me there's actually a super medicine, and it's being kept secret?"

Dane sighed again and gave her a look that made her feel like an idiot. "I thought you were smart. The answer is simple: some things keep the balance of the world. What do you think would happen if a super cure for all injuries, an injection for unnatural muscle and strength growth, or an exoskeleton that turns anyone into a pro fighter were made available to the public?"

Eliana couldn't believe that things like that existed, but then her mind flashed back to the woman in the bathroom—the one who had looked like the Hulk. Had she taken one of these "special" medications?

"The world would erupt into chaos…" she muttered. Still, she found it unfair. Who had the right to decide who deserved access to life-changing medicine?

"If you saw a shooting," she said, meeting his gaze, "let's say between the police and some criminals, but an innocent person got caught in the crossfire and was going to die from their wounds, wouldn't you give them SHM? Keeping this technology from the world is like playing god. You're deciding that some people are less deserving of life than others."

For just a second, Dane's hand froze. His sharp eyes flickered to hers, locking onto them in a way that made her breath hitch. An emotion passed through his gaze—one she couldn't quite place. Regret? Helplessness? Whatever it was, it was gone before she could name it.

"Does your head ache?" was all he said, ignoring her argument entirely.

A strange sense of disappointment settled in her chest. She had thought that, out of all the awful people in this academy, Dane might be the least monstrous. The most… normal. Maybe she had been wrong.

"A little, but it's fine," she replied, her voice colder now. "I should get going. I've already missed three days."

She swung her legs off the bed and stood up, pushing past him as she made her way toward the infirmary door. Just as she reached for the handle, his voice came from behind her.

"You're prejudiced."

Eliana froze. She turned to face him, finding him much closer than expected. She had to crane her neck to meet his gaze.

"What?" She asked with a raised brow.

"You heard me," he said calmly. "You think so highly of yourself and look down on everyone here. In your eyes, we're just cold-blooded killers while you play the righteous moral apostle."

She let out a short, humorless laugh. "You're not serious right now, are you? I'm not prejudiced. I've seen nothing but cruelty since I got here. I was stripped naked and humiliated, beaten half to death, threatened, my family used as leverage to force me into this fucking academy. So don't tell me not to judge you all when you've shown me nothing but the worst of humanity!"

Dane didn't flinch. If anything, he looked amused by her outburst.

"I really misjudged you," he said, his voice dipping lower. "I thought you were smarter than this. But you still don't get it."

He leaned in, his breath brushing against her ear as he snarled, "You think you're the only one suffering? Let me tell you something. Even if the rest of the recruits and us mentors knew what we were getting into…" His voice turned almost menacing. "It doesn't mean we had a fucking choice either. So stop pitying yourself and do what everyone else here has done—adapt."

He straightened up again, but Eliana had no response. No comeback. Because deep down, she knew he was right.

Frustrated, furious, and feeling like an idiot, she stormed out of the infirmary, slamming the door behind her.