"Adrian." Vale.

The name wouldn’t leave.

It sat in my chest like something heavy, something waiting to be recognized.

Vale.

Adrian Vale.

My breathing stuttered.

No.

No, that wasn’t—

My hand came up, pressing hard against my temple.

Think.

Think.

“…this doesn’t make sense,” I muttered under my breath, pacing once across the small space. “This doesn’t—this isn’t—”

Maybe Reincarnation?

Or Transmigration?

Was there even a difference?

Did it matter? My chest tightened. I'm still here. 

I let out a sharp breath, dragging a hand down my face.

“Get it together,” I whispered.

Not here. Not now. Not when I'm clearly needed.

Panic later. Work first. Apparently, this is what I must do. That part—

That part felt right. Familiar. Safe. A sudden shift outside the room cut through everything. Footsteps. Fast.

Not rushed—

Controlled. Voices dropped. Lower. Quieter. Like something had entered the space that demanded it. My head lifted.

The air changed. I felt it before I understood it. Fear.

Not loud. Not obvious. But there. Subtle.Tight. Respect mixed with something sharper. My body reacted automatically.

Focus snapped back into place.

“Status?” I asked, stepping out of the room without hesitation.

She was already moving beside me.

“Male,” she said quickly. “Early thirties, maybe. Multiple injuries—most recent is a stab wound to the side. Not clean. There’s bruising along the ribs, possible fracture—”

“Bleeding?”

“Controlled for now, but not stable.”

“Who treated him?”

“Field work. Rough.”

Of course it was. The Vale group are Mafia's after all.

“Vitals?”

“Dropping.”

“Conscious?”

A pause.

“…barely.”

I nodded once.

“Prep the bay.”

She didn’t argue. Didn’t hesitate.

Good. We moved Fast. The hallway felt different now. Quieter yet tense.

People stepped aside without being asked.

Eyes followed. Not just me. Past me. Toward—

Whoever was coming in.

“Clear the space,” I said, already pulling gloves on. “I don’t want anyone hovering.”

No one argued. No one dared. I reached the med bay first, scanning automatically—tools, layout, positioning—

Everything in place. Good. My fingers flexed once. Steady. Always steady. Footsteps approached. Slower now. Measured. Not rushed. Not desperate. That was wrong. If he was bleeding out, he should be—

The door opened. Voices—low, controlled. Movement. Bodies shifting. And then—

Silence. It fell all at once. Heavy. Complete. I didn’t turn immediately. Didn’t look. Because something in my chest had already started tightening again.

Because I already—

Knew.

“…Doctor.”

The voice wasn’t his.

But it carried weight.

Respect. Fear. Expectation. I exhaled slowly. Then—

Turned.

And for a second—

Everything stopped.

The novel flashed through my mind, uninvited.

“Adrian Vale was a man carved from restraint—cold blue eyes, sharp features, a presence that bent the room around him without effort.”

That was what it said.

That was what it tried to say. It wasn’t enough. Not even close. Because the man standing in front of me—

Was worse. Taller than I expected. Broader. His coat hung open just enough to show the dark stain spreading beneath it, but he didn’t look affected by it. Not the way he should’ve been.

His hair—deep auburn, catching the light in muted copper tones. His eyes—

Blue. Clear. Cold. And looking directly at me.

Not through me. Not past me. But right at me.

Like I was—

Important. My breath caught. No hesitation now. No doubt.

“…Adrian Vale,” I said quietly.

Not a question. But A statement. Something shifted in his expression. Small. Barely there. But I saw it.

Recognition?

No.

Interest.

“…you know who I am,” he said. His voice was lower than I expected. Calm. Controlled. Like the rest of him. Did he even feel the pain?

My pulse spiked. This was it. This was the moment. The one that was supposed to go differently. The one that was supposed to—

“He did not resist when the blade was driven through him.”

My jaw tightened. Not this time. I stepped forward. Closing the distance without hesitation. Without fear.

“Sit down,” I said, already reaching for him. “Or I’ll make you.”

My hand caught his arm—

Steady. Firm. Unthinking. And for just a second—

His entire body stilled. Like that simple contact—

Meant something. I didn’t notice, I was already focused on the wound.

“Let’s see how bad you messed yourself up.”