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In collaboration with @The Savant
Mentions: N/A Interactions: Erik Dockerson (@The Savant)
A Debt in Blood
It was late that night and he was sitting at his overly crowded desk, his hair ruffled up by one of his hands, stress was oozing out of him, and he continuously tapped the fine needlepoint pen on the harder surface. The noise echoed out like some white sound that could calm or that could increase the anxiety.
His bright blue eyes were wandering across pages and pages of what he had written. “I'll be damned if I let this man die…” he muttered before glancing at the phone on his desk.
Do. Not. Call. Or tell anyone about this.
Those words continued to cross the front of his mind while he stared at the phone and then looked back at all his notes. “What if I don't and he dies? What if it's worth the risk? Anyone could understand taking risks…” he breathed out dakingly. Zarek and Krish hounded him about keeping Asterion's current condition secret and on the down low.
The doctor began to get more uncomfortable and jittery. He started moving more before shooting up and almost making his chair fall backwards but he caught it. “Risks. Risks. Risks. Asterion doesn't have enough time to heal in such a world and he might not survive through the night without going through this,” Erik spoke to himself in a quiet voice before pacing in the room.
Pacing.
Pacing.
Pacing.
He stopped by the desk where the phone was in reach. That's when he picked it up, put the number in, and listened to it ring. Quietly whispering to himself, “I know it is late but please… please… pick up.”
The townhouse was silent.
Not the comforting silence of solitude, but the kind that came after a storm, when the adrenaline wore off and exhaustion crept in like a slow tide.
Bella sat on the edge of her bed, one boot still unlaced, a glass of her special wine untouched on the nightstand. The townhouse was hers and hers alone—no allies, no enemies, just a space that existed outside of everything. A place no one should be able to reach her.
Which was why, when her work phone buzzed, she didn’t answer right away. Instead, she just stared at the screen.
Unknown Number.
A lesser woman might have ignored it.
Bella wasn’t a lesser woman.
She exhaled, picked up the phone, and pressed it to her ear.
“Who is this?”
Each ring was a potential declaration of rejection and Erik did not know if he could emotionally handle trying to call again. If someone didn't pick up the first time… this was different. Then the click of being connected rang in his ear and his whole body jolted with excitement. Internally, his body screamed, YES! That was until he heard the voice of the woman.
He cleared his throat, “I—” he tried to get out words but he found himself shaking and nervous. His mouth felt dry and he forced himself to swallow, “G-good evening, Bella,” he decided to be more polite. “T-This is Doctor Dockerson or Erik… or whatever you want to call me,” he added weakly with a light laugh. He was clearly nervous and unsure.
“I'm the head scientist and doctor here at the Kairo Tower. I work for Mister Kai— I work for Asterion,” he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when he got those words out. “I am speaking with Bella Delacroix?” He needed to make sure before he continued babbling on.
“You are,” she answered. “Which means you have about five seconds to tell me why you’re calling me at this hour before I decide if this conversation is worth continuing.”
Erik went to respond but he stopped himself. The phone lines were not protected in the way that he wanted. There were people with gyfts that could easily tap into them and if the wrong person heard about Asterion's condition… hell could break loose. “Please, please, do not hang up. I can't say it over the phone but I will beg for you, Miss Bella Delacroix. I need your help.”
“Is there anyway we could speak about this face to face?” He was hoping there was a way and that she would at least listen to his crazy ideas.
“Begging doesn't suit you, Doctor.” Then Bella sighed. “Nor does calling a woman like me in the middle of the night without something solid to offer in return.”
There was no immediate rejection. No click of the line going dead. Just a moment of quiet consideration.
Face to face.
The request alone was enough to confirm what she already suspected-this was a desperate move. And desperation made men reckless.
Bella leaned forward, reaching for the laces of her boot with one hand to tighten them. “Fine.[” A single clipped word. “But this is on my terms. There's a drop point In Highfair. An apartment.”
A breath of relief could be heard from Erik, “Thank you,” he added as if she was a goddess. Truly grateful that she was agreeing.
She glanced at the clock. “One hour. Be there.”
The line went dead.
His mind focused in whole he listened to the rest of her words. Highfair. Apartment. One hour. Erik wrote that all down on a sticky note and put the phone in its place.
The younger man knew this could become anything, he could be walking into a dangerous situation, but he felt like it was necessary. At least for Asterion's survival. Without warning or telling anyone where he was going — he disappeared into the cold night.
Absolute no time to spare or argue with people about what he was doing. Krish would get emotional and argue all the what-ifs and Zarek would badger him on being an idiot without thoughts. Wandering from Nickel to Highfair. He ended up at the apartment within a good amount of time and nowhere near the hour mark.
Inhaling deeply to help settle his nerves, he knocked on the door. Then he waited. Erik was dressed in more casual slacks that were grey, a dark blue dress shirt, and one of those long white coats to inform people that he was a doctor or scientist.
The apartment was unassuming. Nondescript. One of many drop points scattered across Highfair—nothing personal, nothing traceable. It was, for all intents and purposes, a disposable space. This meant Erik Dockerson had just walked into a room designed for transactions, not hospitality.
Bella rose from her chair and moved to the door. In one fluid motion, she unlocked it and pulled it open.
Her gaze skimmed over him in one deft, unspoken analysis. Young. Too young to be making a call like this. Dressed neatly but slightly dishevelled, the telltale signs of someone who had sprinted here on nerves alone. The white coat was almost amusing—a symbol of professionalism clashing against the raw desperation in his posture.
She didn’t step aside.
Didn’t invite him in.
Instead, she propped herself against the doorframe, arms folded, one boot angled slightly forward like a marker drawn in the sand.
“You look like hell, Doctor.”
His bright blue eyes showed how innocent and unaware he was of the potential dangers. The young man cracked a semi-awkward smile with a shrug of his shoulders showing how exhausted he was, “I've looked way worse,” he chuckled lightly with a sigh to end it. Showing he couldn't emotionally force himself to be positive.
Looking at the situation and the woman in front of him, he nodded his head, “I suppose that I'm not welcome to come in?” His voice sounded a little hopeful that she would prove him wrong but his slightly positive smile showed that he knew she might keep him right out in this hallway. Being content with both options.
Her lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smirk but wasn’t exactly a smile either. “You’re smarter than you look, then.”
She didn’t move from the doorway, didn’t grant him immediate access, but her eyes studied him more closely now—not dismissive, not impatient. Curious.
He was nervous, but not spineless.
Exhausted, but still standing.
Young, but not naïve enough to think she would make this easy.
That was something.
Bella exhaled sharply, rolling her shoulders back before finally turning around.
“Close the door behind you.”
There was a brightness in his eyes when she turned and gave an order. The man happily stepped forward, “Will do, thank you,” the man replied with a little more energy while stepping into the apartment and closing the door respectfully.
He seemed to pause while looking around the room and taking it in — she didn't live here at all. He understood that from their call, he would be surprised, but this place was only used for meetings and the like he assumed.
Inside, the apartment was clean but sparse. A table. Two chairs. A small lamp casting a dull, amber glow against the walls. No unnecessary luxuries, no signs of personal use—just a place meant for moments exactly like this.
She took her seat first, leaning back against the chair in that easy, self-assured way that made it painfully clear who controlled the room. One leg crossed over the other, her fingers drumming once against the table before stilling.
She waited until he sat before finally speaking again.
“You asked for this meeting, Doctor. You called me. So let’s not waste time.”
Her eyes—red and merciless in their focus—snared his, locking him in place. Not unkind. Not cruel. Just expectant.
“Talk.”
“To be honest, Miss Bella Delacroix…” he paused while looking around and stood by the chair that he considered taking a seat in before she started talking. One of his hands entered his pocket to show he was more relaxed now while his other hand came up and brushed through his hair in a thoughtful way.
He smiled lightly at her “This whole thing could be a waste of both of our time especially if my understanding of your potential abilities is incorrect,” he spoke honestly. “I really hope they aren't because I need your abilities to keep Asterion alive and to get his body healed up.”
Erik's eyes were serious and locked right onto her crimson red ones. The switch showed that he was relying on this going right and his information wasn't incorrect. “That's even if you would help him at all”
“Well you’re not telling me anything I don’t already know, and what I don’t know is why I should burn resources on this tonight.”
She didn’t need convincing that Asterion’s survival was useful. If she had, Emilia wouldn’t have been sent to talk to him in the first place. But this? This late-night scramble, this desperate plea? That was another matter entirely.
“So…what’s changed?”
Because if Erik was here, running on adrenaline and bad decisions, it meant something had gone wrong. And if she was going to play her hand tonight, she needed to know exactly what she was walking into.
Erik seemed to go quiet and stare at the woman. Then the man grabbed a mobile device from his pocket, “I hope your stomach doesn’t turn very easily,” he stated before entering into an app, putting in a few passcodes, and doing a fingerprint scanner before it opened up what looked like multiple small visual boxes of different perspective points through security cameras.
“Eden, please, access Asterion’s room for me,” he spoke out to the device. The device happily began to speak back, “Will do, Erik. Would you like me to inform you of Asterion’s current vitals?” the feminine robotic voice asked while his phone screen began to change before a window opened up and became his whole screen.
Handing his phone over, it showed a ceiling point perspective into a room that looked aching sterile and white. No one was in there. A man was lying in what looked to be a more comfortable style of a hospital bed, with IVs everywhere, an oxygen mask, a feeding tube, some of the bedding had blood stains. “Please, tell me his vitals,” he confirmed that he wanted to hear them.
That was when Eden began to speak out:
“Asterion has continued to have cardiovascular issues. He is currently suffering from bradycardia, an arrythmia, and low blood pressure. The iron supplements you injected into the blood supply that the ECMO therapy machine has been slowly improving his blood pressure levels.
June decided to continue to keep him on the ventilator because his body was not allowing him to breathe deeply enough to get appropriate amounts of oxygen into his system. The machine is helping him not take shallow rattling breaths that June referred to as ‘severely concerning’ for his state.
Currently, he is suffering from a low grade fever, there may be a possible infection starting, but we will have to keep eyes on all symptoms and the development of this fever. I would recommend giving him acetaminophen.
He should not be producing a fever with all the blood that is being processed into his system and if you watch the screen. You will be able to see his thermal outputs,” that was when the screen flashed over to show the thermal outputs of Asterion lying in bed. “His hands are not at appropriate levels of temperature and this should be watched with the severe amount of blood loss he has gone through. In some cases, blood loss can lead to extremities such as toes or fingers being lost due to lack of oxygen supplied to them,” she continued.
“Is there anything else you would like from me at the moment, Erik?”
Erik shook his head, “No, I appreciate you updating me on his condition slowly improving,” the man spoke to Eden like she was a person.
He then looked at Bella, “I’ll do anything. Almost anything,” he corrected himself. “I can touch things with physical information like books, hard drives, computers, anything, and instantly learn all the stuff in it. My mind holds all of it as well, like a filing cabinet, and everything. If you need something done. I can do it. If you are willing to help me, help him,” he offered.
Her fingers closed around the phone, not returning it immediately. Instead, Bella leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.
“You’re offering yourself.” A statement, not a question.
Her thumb ghosted along the side of the phone, a rhythmic tap, tap, tap—a metronome to her thoughts. “But you don’t even know what I’d ask for, do you?”
Only then did she finally slide the phone back across the table.
“Does your group even know you’re doing this?”
Erik shook his head in the negative with a glance to Bella, “I brought the idea up to them, practically right after the attack, and they all jumped on my case. If any of them knew, I wouldn’t be here, which is why I am doing it under their noses and when they can’t stop me,” he confessed that and when he vocalized it, his face turned a little, and he knew how stupid that sounded — how vulnerable of a position that put him in. Bella was smart, he could tell, and she would know by the depths of his words, he was here alone, and didn’t tell anyone he was coming here.
“And yes, I would offer my services, to an extent, to help Asterion,” he added. “I would say that I won’t accept anything beyond an ethical code though what I am planning to do to Asterion…” he seemed to pause with the thoughts before his eyes locked onto Bella’s. He was having that stare, half there, and fully absorbed into his thoughts like he was imagining doing it already, “People would consider that extremely unethical and experimental which it is.”
Then his eye contact broke and he looked down at the table and grabbed his phone, turning the screen off, and putting it inside of a pocket that was hidden within his doctor’s coat. “They won’t know that this procedure is happening, Bella. I do not know if you have ever used your abilities to help save someone but I need someone that can make a barrier so Asterion doesn’t bleed out because I have to remove large chunks of his flesh if he’s going to heal properly,” Erik explained while glancing up at her. Krish was against this idea and told him not to do it. June didn’t like the sounds of how risky it was.
Bella didn’t answer right away.
Not out of hesitation, nor indecision—no, this was a script she had read before, a play performed under different lighting but with the same suffocating tension woven into the air. Not in this room. Not with this man. But in that same desperate, airless space where stakes were measured in heartbeats and hope clung to the edges like something half-drowned.
So when she glanced at the screen again, she didn’t see Asterion.
She saw a different bed. Different wires. Blood blooming across the sheets like ink spilled from a careless hand, seeping into the fabric, staining, swallowing. Another reckless soul, another gamble laid at her feet, as if her hands had ever been the kind that granted miracles instead of inevitabilities.
And now, years later, another fool sat across from her, offering himself up without even knowing the cost.
A breath. Then, finally:
“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”
Not cruel. Just truth. The weary cadence of someone pointing out something as obvious as gravity.
“You’re making a bet on a woman you don’t understand. You think because I can stop someone from bleeding out, that means I will. That I’ve done it before.”
A pause. A heartbeat’s worth of space.
“Maybe I have.”
But there was no satisfaction in the admission. No pride.
Just a quiet, unshakable truth:
She had saved someone once. And in the end, it hadn’t changed a damn thing.
“And what happens when your friends find out? Because they will. You’re naïve if you think they won’t.” Her head tilted, studying him. “Will you look them in the eye and tell them you cut a deal with me? That you went behind their backs because you thought it was worth the risk?”
The next few words came unbidden, slipping out before she could stop them.
“You remind me of someone, you know?”
Her fingers stilled.
Because Erik wasn’t naïve—not really.
Neither was Mathieu.
Just kind.
And that was worse. Because people like that always paid the price for their kindness in blood.
A smile threatened the corner of his lips when she referred to him as an idiot — he has heard that plenty of times from Krish, Zarek, and the rest of the people at the Kairo tower. There was no reason to emphasize or entertain the comment really, but he let the smile appear on his face, “Maybe I am.”
“I bet they already know that I am doing this, Bella, because I brought it up. Why wouldn’t I be able to tell them that to their faces? Yes, they are going to be upset about it. I am not signing my life away to you. I am giving you an I-O-U card. I think that is pretty useful when you understand my abilities,” he added on.
Bella’s voice was quieter when she spoke again. “Fine.”
She let it hang, not giving him the relief of gratitude just yet.
“But I don’t do charity. Asterion will owe me for this. Greatly so.”
Then he shook his head, “Asterion will not owe you anything for this, Bella. I’ll owe you something. This isn’t a deal between you and him. It’s a deal between us. And I never came to you thinking you would do charity work. No one does in Nocturnia. Not even I do,” he smiled at her.
“With those words, are you still willing to come with me to the lab?” He looked at her then glanced at the door of the apartment.
“You don’t get to decide who owes me, Doctor.”
Bella unfolded herself from the chair, standing in one smooth motion.
“ But lead the way.”
A pause. The barest tilt of her head.
“And I’ll warn you now—whatever happens to him because of you?” She stepped forward and brushed past him, the ghost of expensive perfume lingering in her wake. One hand reached for her coat, fingers slipping over the fabric. “That’s not my problem.”
Erik smiled a little, “I do,” he answered. “I am asking for your help. Asterion isn’t. No one else is. You just warned me about yourself. Why would I accept that idea? I know. I am here asking for your help but I am the one asking and making the deal,” he stated in a more serious tone. “And I can back out on all of this. I have other ways to help him. You were just the fastest and easiest way. If I back out, then you get no benefits of the deal and then your time would be wasted here.”
“And you are saying things so casually, whatever happens to him isn’t because of me, it’s because of the people that hurt him. You cannot emotionally blackmail me, Bella. I might be young, I may be naive in different ways, but Asterion is already dead by statistics. Whatever happens to him is neither of our fault because he wouldn’t have a chance without me,” Erik stated confidently while he walked past her and out of the apartment.
“Now, I will say it again. You either have a deal with me or you can stay here and stay out of it, I’ll do it myself,” his eyes were serious while he looked at her. “And making a deal with me isn’t charity work if that’s what you think,” Erik didn’t stay to entertain her anymore. He began walking down the hall. His mind is already changing from asking for help to i’ll do it myself mentality. Something he was known for.
Her voice followed him down the hall, unhurried.
“ So this is what you look like when you stop asking nicely.”
She didn’t chase after him. She didn’t need to. Instead, she took her time adjusting her coat, slipping one arm through the sleeve before finally stepping out, locking the door behind her with a flick of her wrist.
“ You think you have the upper hand, but you don’t.” A small shrug. “Not really. You just think that because you’re the only one willing to make a reckless move right now.”
She caught up to him effortlessly, falling into step beside him rather than trailing behind. Proximity without submission.
Then, a dry chuckle.
“ Fine, Doctor.” Her crimson gaze slid sideways, catching his. “We’ll play it your way. But don’t think for a second that means you won this exchange.”
Her bootsteps echoed beside his.
“Because sooner or later, you’ll realize I was never the one you needed to convince.”
Erik chuckled lightly, “Why do you have such a need to keep power? You are desperately trying to keep control of this whole situation. It’s a little weird. I understand emotions are complex but why does it have to be a win or lose? Why do you think I am trying to win? I’m not. I’m trying to stay true to my core beliefs. And the belief that I am sticking to is that Asterion cannot consent to anything, if you were in this situation or anyone was, I would make sure to fight for your rights to consent as well. Once he wakes up you can talk. You can talk his ear off all you want and figure out what he owes you and what he’s willing to give you, Bella,” the young man spoke evenly with a smile.
Her crimson glare didn’t seem to affect him much and he shrugged his shoulders, “And this move isn’t reckless. You might think it is. Most people might but it would be more reckless of me to stick to my guns and try to do everything myself. It would be naive, inconsiderate, and dancing a fine line with someone else’s life. Statistically, I have done all the outcomes and I can tell you, compared to the rest of the probabilities. This is the highest one that yields a success rate that is fifteen-percent more successful than all the other ways. It is also one of the only ways that ensures his life at the highest probability of a successful outcome of eighty-eight percent compared to the rest being sixty-seven percent and below,” Erik continued to speak as they walked out of the apartment complex.
“Technically with the numbers and if you can help keep him from bleeding out. That means Asterion has a ninety-six percent chance of recovering and living with the least amount of issues compared to the seventy-nine percent or lower of all other options.”
Bella laughed.
“You think that’s what this is about? Power?”
She didn’t elaborate. Didn’t explain. She knew better than to fill the empty spaces—men like Erik would do that for her. They’d try to solve the puzzle, to pin her down into something neat and understandable. But that wasn’t how this worked.
Let him wonder. Let him try to figure her out.
It wouldn't change the fact that he’d already made his choice.
Only after a few more steps did she speak again.
“Eighty-eight percent, huh? Decent odds.”
She turned the number over in her mind like a spinning coin, waiting to see which way it would fall. Decent. Not good. Not guaranteed. A brittle assurance that looked solid on paper but meant nothing in the hands of the unpredictable. That was the illusion of probability—it gave people the arrogance to believe they could shape the future with mere calculations as if fate could be distilled into something as simple as figures and forecasts.
She had heard odds like that before. Had let them give her hope, once. And yet, the universe had paid no mind to the neat equations or careful projections she’d so dearly believed in. The outcome hadn’t bent just because someone had sat in a room, charting variables and clinging to the illusion of control.
Erik believed in math. In the power of logic.
Bella knew better.
But she didn’t say that to him either. Because some lessons weren’t worth teaching, especially when one hadn’t fully come to accept them either.
Erik glanced over at the woman with disinterest as if he was becoming bored with the game that she was playing. He knew that she was trying to weave certain seeds into his mind, learn more about him, or so on. It was making him realize how vulnerable the woman was emotionally — she tried so hard to put up a front. To look so strong and in control. That it showed all the cracks in the walls she had around her. He had no interest in playing the game of emotions. He shrugged his shoulders and continued to walk.
Were all women like this? Elara was kind of like this. However, she was extremely bitchy and way more physical. The young man glanced over to Bella in thought. Most women that he met and came across were like this except for Mitzie and June. Maybe Zarek was right about women. Exiting the apartment, he smiled, “I walked here, so I am walking back,” he informed her before stepping off the sidewalk and heading his way back to Nickel.
A raven-hued sedan lounged just beyond the curb while Dom reclined against the passenger door, exuding a languid confidence—a man all too familiar with the art of waiting. He didn’t acknowledge them right away, though she knew he’d been watching from the moment she stepped out of the building.
Bella cast a sidelong glance at Erik. His coat was laughably inadequate for the night’s creeping cold, and his frame braced against the chill as if sheer will alone could keep it at bay. His expression and words, however, told a different story—a stubborn set to his jaw and a matter-of-fact tone.
Then, without looking at him, she opened the car door and stepped aside.
“You walked here, so you’re walking back.” The words came lazily, like an echo of his own. Then, after a beat: “Or you could stop being an idiot and get in the car.”
She didn’t wait for a response.
It wasn’t kindness. It wasn’t concern. But even she wasn’t sure what it was.
Before she made her second vocalization, Erik shrugged his shoulders, and was already walking. Then he stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder with a smile, “I knew you couldn’t be so heartless,” his tone was amused and teasing. However, Asterion has made him walk plenty of times for his mouth especially after being told to be quiet or walk. For some reason… he always thought the man was joking but he has never been proven right.
Erik seemed to be cautious at first as if she was teasing him — was she doing the thing Zarek would do? Offer up a ride before shutting the door and driving away. He seemed unsure about it. “Do you trust him to drive? How safe do you think we will be in a vehicle?” The young man wasn’t scared of vehicles but he had seen a few nasty car bombs growing up so he wasn’t fully sure if Bella checked her vehicles at all or not. Maybe she had no worries about car bombs but he was still nervous about possibilities.
Bella exhaled sharply, half a laugh, half a scoff, before flicking a glance toward Dom.
“You think I’d get in a car I wasn’t sure about?”
Dom, still lounging against the passenger door, let out a low, amused noise, the kind that didn’t require words to translate. He didn’t answer—because he didn’t need to. The truth was self-evident, stitched into the very fact that they were standing here, neither of them bleeding, neither of them blown to pieces.
“You’re not scared, are you?”
A lazy provocation. Testing. Teasing. She didn’t believe he was, but that wasn’t the point. It was the reaction that interested her.
Then, as if even this momentary game had already lost its lustre, she turned away, stepping into the car. She settled into her seat, one leg still outside, the door left open like an unfinished sentence. No grand invitations. No reassurances. Just the choice—left bare, as it always was.
Dom finally straightened, stepping around the car to the driver’s seat. “Clock’s ticking, Doc,” he said, voice laced with easy indifference as he got in.
Erik looked down the street that was barely lit by street lights at this hour, one was flickering a few blocks down, and he swore he saw an odd shadow in it. For some reason, it spooked him, and not in the way of unfamiliarity. He swore that it was Zarek for some odd reason — no one followed him out of the tower, did they? He thought he kept a good eye out but he smiled back at Bella, “What about it if I am a little scared or worried? If I had no fear in me, I would be a complete fool, and if I had too much fear. I’d be an idiot and not here asking for help,” he chuckled at his words while getting into the vehicle. Closing the door behind him.
As Dom shifted the car into drive, Bella's gaze flicked to Erik—not scrutinizing, not probing, merely observing.
“Smart men don’t admit when they’re afraid.” Her head inclined ever so slightly. “And fools don’t realize they should be.”
Because fear was a peculiar thing. It wasn’t the gunfire, the flash of steel, or the threats hissed in alleyways that made it dangerous. No, those were easy—visible, predictable. The kind of dangers that could be confronted, dodged, or even outmaneuvered if you played it right.
It was the unseen ones that held real power. The ones nestled inside choices you could never unmake. The ones that stitched themselves into your bones so subtly that by the time you noticed, you weren’t the same person anymore.
“You think you know what you’re asking for. But you don’t.”
His bright blue eyes were wandering across pages and pages of what he had written. “I'll be damned if I let this man die…” he muttered before glancing at the phone on his desk.
Do. Not. Call. Or tell anyone about this.
Those words continued to cross the front of his mind while he stared at the phone and then looked back at all his notes. “What if I don't and he dies? What if it's worth the risk? Anyone could understand taking risks…” he breathed out dakingly. Zarek and Krish hounded him about keeping Asterion's current condition secret and on the down low.
The doctor began to get more uncomfortable and jittery. He started moving more before shooting up and almost making his chair fall backwards but he caught it. “Risks. Risks. Risks. Asterion doesn't have enough time to heal in such a world and he might not survive through the night without going through this,” Erik spoke to himself in a quiet voice before pacing in the room.
Pacing.
Pacing.
Pacing.
He stopped by the desk where the phone was in reach. That's when he picked it up, put the number in, and listened to it ring. Quietly whispering to himself, “I know it is late but please… please… pick up.”
The townhouse was silent.
Not the comforting silence of solitude, but the kind that came after a storm, when the adrenaline wore off and exhaustion crept in like a slow tide.
Bella sat on the edge of her bed, one boot still unlaced, a glass of her special wine untouched on the nightstand. The townhouse was hers and hers alone—no allies, no enemies, just a space that existed outside of everything. A place no one should be able to reach her.
Which was why, when her work phone buzzed, she didn’t answer right away. Instead, she just stared at the screen.
Unknown Number.
A lesser woman might have ignored it.
Bella wasn’t a lesser woman.
She exhaled, picked up the phone, and pressed it to her ear.
“Who is this?”
Each ring was a potential declaration of rejection and Erik did not know if he could emotionally handle trying to call again. If someone didn't pick up the first time… this was different. Then the click of being connected rang in his ear and his whole body jolted with excitement. Internally, his body screamed, YES! That was until he heard the voice of the woman.
He cleared his throat, “I—” he tried to get out words but he found himself shaking and nervous. His mouth felt dry and he forced himself to swallow, “G-good evening, Bella,” he decided to be more polite. “T-This is Doctor Dockerson or Erik… or whatever you want to call me,” he added weakly with a light laugh. He was clearly nervous and unsure.
“I'm the head scientist and doctor here at the Kairo Tower. I work for Mister Kai— I work for Asterion,” he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when he got those words out. “I am speaking with Bella Delacroix?” He needed to make sure before he continued babbling on.
“You are,” she answered. “Which means you have about five seconds to tell me why you’re calling me at this hour before I decide if this conversation is worth continuing.”
Erik went to respond but he stopped himself. The phone lines were not protected in the way that he wanted. There were people with gyfts that could easily tap into them and if the wrong person heard about Asterion's condition… hell could break loose. “Please, please, do not hang up. I can't say it over the phone but I will beg for you, Miss Bella Delacroix. I need your help.”
“Is there anyway we could speak about this face to face?” He was hoping there was a way and that she would at least listen to his crazy ideas.
“Begging doesn't suit you, Doctor.” Then Bella sighed. “Nor does calling a woman like me in the middle of the night without something solid to offer in return.”
There was no immediate rejection. No click of the line going dead. Just a moment of quiet consideration.
Face to face.
The request alone was enough to confirm what she already suspected-this was a desperate move. And desperation made men reckless.
Bella leaned forward, reaching for the laces of her boot with one hand to tighten them. “Fine.[” A single clipped word. “But this is on my terms. There's a drop point In Highfair. An apartment.”
A breath of relief could be heard from Erik, “Thank you,” he added as if she was a goddess. Truly grateful that she was agreeing.
She glanced at the clock. “One hour. Be there.”
The line went dead.
His mind focused in whole he listened to the rest of her words. Highfair. Apartment. One hour. Erik wrote that all down on a sticky note and put the phone in its place.
The younger man knew this could become anything, he could be walking into a dangerous situation, but he felt like it was necessary. At least for Asterion's survival. Without warning or telling anyone where he was going — he disappeared into the cold night.
Absolute no time to spare or argue with people about what he was doing. Krish would get emotional and argue all the what-ifs and Zarek would badger him on being an idiot without thoughts. Wandering from Nickel to Highfair. He ended up at the apartment within a good amount of time and nowhere near the hour mark.
Inhaling deeply to help settle his nerves, he knocked on the door. Then he waited. Erik was dressed in more casual slacks that were grey, a dark blue dress shirt, and one of those long white coats to inform people that he was a doctor or scientist.
The apartment was unassuming. Nondescript. One of many drop points scattered across Highfair—nothing personal, nothing traceable. It was, for all intents and purposes, a disposable space. This meant Erik Dockerson had just walked into a room designed for transactions, not hospitality.
Bella rose from her chair and moved to the door. In one fluid motion, she unlocked it and pulled it open.
Her gaze skimmed over him in one deft, unspoken analysis. Young. Too young to be making a call like this. Dressed neatly but slightly dishevelled, the telltale signs of someone who had sprinted here on nerves alone. The white coat was almost amusing—a symbol of professionalism clashing against the raw desperation in his posture.
She didn’t step aside.
Didn’t invite him in.
Instead, she propped herself against the doorframe, arms folded, one boot angled slightly forward like a marker drawn in the sand.
“You look like hell, Doctor.”
His bright blue eyes showed how innocent and unaware he was of the potential dangers. The young man cracked a semi-awkward smile with a shrug of his shoulders showing how exhausted he was, “I've looked way worse,” he chuckled lightly with a sigh to end it. Showing he couldn't emotionally force himself to be positive.
Looking at the situation and the woman in front of him, he nodded his head, “I suppose that I'm not welcome to come in?” His voice sounded a little hopeful that she would prove him wrong but his slightly positive smile showed that he knew she might keep him right out in this hallway. Being content with both options.
Her lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smirk but wasn’t exactly a smile either. “You’re smarter than you look, then.”
She didn’t move from the doorway, didn’t grant him immediate access, but her eyes studied him more closely now—not dismissive, not impatient. Curious.
He was nervous, but not spineless.
Exhausted, but still standing.
Young, but not naïve enough to think she would make this easy.
That was something.
Bella exhaled sharply, rolling her shoulders back before finally turning around.
“Close the door behind you.”
There was a brightness in his eyes when she turned and gave an order. The man happily stepped forward, “Will do, thank you,” the man replied with a little more energy while stepping into the apartment and closing the door respectfully.
He seemed to pause while looking around the room and taking it in — she didn't live here at all. He understood that from their call, he would be surprised, but this place was only used for meetings and the like he assumed.
Inside, the apartment was clean but sparse. A table. Two chairs. A small lamp casting a dull, amber glow against the walls. No unnecessary luxuries, no signs of personal use—just a place meant for moments exactly like this.
She took her seat first, leaning back against the chair in that easy, self-assured way that made it painfully clear who controlled the room. One leg crossed over the other, her fingers drumming once against the table before stilling.
She waited until he sat before finally speaking again.
“You asked for this meeting, Doctor. You called me. So let’s not waste time.”
Her eyes—red and merciless in their focus—snared his, locking him in place. Not unkind. Not cruel. Just expectant.
“Talk.”
“To be honest, Miss Bella Delacroix…” he paused while looking around and stood by the chair that he considered taking a seat in before she started talking. One of his hands entered his pocket to show he was more relaxed now while his other hand came up and brushed through his hair in a thoughtful way.
He smiled lightly at her “This whole thing could be a waste of both of our time especially if my understanding of your potential abilities is incorrect,” he spoke honestly. “I really hope they aren't because I need your abilities to keep Asterion alive and to get his body healed up.”
Erik's eyes were serious and locked right onto her crimson red ones. The switch showed that he was relying on this going right and his information wasn't incorrect. “That's even if you would help him at all”
“Well you’re not telling me anything I don’t already know, and what I don’t know is why I should burn resources on this tonight.”
She didn’t need convincing that Asterion’s survival was useful. If she had, Emilia wouldn’t have been sent to talk to him in the first place. But this? This late-night scramble, this desperate plea? That was another matter entirely.
“So…what’s changed?”
Because if Erik was here, running on adrenaline and bad decisions, it meant something had gone wrong. And if she was going to play her hand tonight, she needed to know exactly what she was walking into.
Erik seemed to go quiet and stare at the woman. Then the man grabbed a mobile device from his pocket, “I hope your stomach doesn’t turn very easily,” he stated before entering into an app, putting in a few passcodes, and doing a fingerprint scanner before it opened up what looked like multiple small visual boxes of different perspective points through security cameras.
“Eden, please, access Asterion’s room for me,” he spoke out to the device. The device happily began to speak back, “Will do, Erik. Would you like me to inform you of Asterion’s current vitals?” the feminine robotic voice asked while his phone screen began to change before a window opened up and became his whole screen.
Handing his phone over, it showed a ceiling point perspective into a room that looked aching sterile and white. No one was in there. A man was lying in what looked to be a more comfortable style of a hospital bed, with IVs everywhere, an oxygen mask, a feeding tube, some of the bedding had blood stains. “Please, tell me his vitals,” he confirmed that he wanted to hear them.
That was when Eden began to speak out:
“Asterion has continued to have cardiovascular issues. He is currently suffering from bradycardia, an arrythmia, and low blood pressure. The iron supplements you injected into the blood supply that the ECMO therapy machine has been slowly improving his blood pressure levels.
June decided to continue to keep him on the ventilator because his body was not allowing him to breathe deeply enough to get appropriate amounts of oxygen into his system. The machine is helping him not take shallow rattling breaths that June referred to as ‘severely concerning’ for his state.
Currently, he is suffering from a low grade fever, there may be a possible infection starting, but we will have to keep eyes on all symptoms and the development of this fever. I would recommend giving him acetaminophen.
He should not be producing a fever with all the blood that is being processed into his system and if you watch the screen. You will be able to see his thermal outputs,” that was when the screen flashed over to show the thermal outputs of Asterion lying in bed. “His hands are not at appropriate levels of temperature and this should be watched with the severe amount of blood loss he has gone through. In some cases, blood loss can lead to extremities such as toes or fingers being lost due to lack of oxygen supplied to them,” she continued.
“Is there anything else you would like from me at the moment, Erik?”
Erik shook his head, “No, I appreciate you updating me on his condition slowly improving,” the man spoke to Eden like she was a person.
He then looked at Bella, “I’ll do anything. Almost anything,” he corrected himself. “I can touch things with physical information like books, hard drives, computers, anything, and instantly learn all the stuff in it. My mind holds all of it as well, like a filing cabinet, and everything. If you need something done. I can do it. If you are willing to help me, help him,” he offered.
Her fingers closed around the phone, not returning it immediately. Instead, Bella leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.
“You’re offering yourself.” A statement, not a question.
Her thumb ghosted along the side of the phone, a rhythmic tap, tap, tap—a metronome to her thoughts. “But you don’t even know what I’d ask for, do you?”
Only then did she finally slide the phone back across the table.
“Does your group even know you’re doing this?”
Erik shook his head in the negative with a glance to Bella, “I brought the idea up to them, practically right after the attack, and they all jumped on my case. If any of them knew, I wouldn’t be here, which is why I am doing it under their noses and when they can’t stop me,” he confessed that and when he vocalized it, his face turned a little, and he knew how stupid that sounded — how vulnerable of a position that put him in. Bella was smart, he could tell, and she would know by the depths of his words, he was here alone, and didn’t tell anyone he was coming here.
“And yes, I would offer my services, to an extent, to help Asterion,” he added. “I would say that I won’t accept anything beyond an ethical code though what I am planning to do to Asterion…” he seemed to pause with the thoughts before his eyes locked onto Bella’s. He was having that stare, half there, and fully absorbed into his thoughts like he was imagining doing it already, “People would consider that extremely unethical and experimental which it is.”
Then his eye contact broke and he looked down at the table and grabbed his phone, turning the screen off, and putting it inside of a pocket that was hidden within his doctor’s coat. “They won’t know that this procedure is happening, Bella. I do not know if you have ever used your abilities to help save someone but I need someone that can make a barrier so Asterion doesn’t bleed out because I have to remove large chunks of his flesh if he’s going to heal properly,” Erik explained while glancing up at her. Krish was against this idea and told him not to do it. June didn’t like the sounds of how risky it was.
Bella didn’t answer right away.
Not out of hesitation, nor indecision—no, this was a script she had read before, a play performed under different lighting but with the same suffocating tension woven into the air. Not in this room. Not with this man. But in that same desperate, airless space where stakes were measured in heartbeats and hope clung to the edges like something half-drowned.
So when she glanced at the screen again, she didn’t see Asterion.
She saw a different bed. Different wires. Blood blooming across the sheets like ink spilled from a careless hand, seeping into the fabric, staining, swallowing. Another reckless soul, another gamble laid at her feet, as if her hands had ever been the kind that granted miracles instead of inevitabilities.
And now, years later, another fool sat across from her, offering himself up without even knowing the cost.
A breath. Then, finally:
“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”
Not cruel. Just truth. The weary cadence of someone pointing out something as obvious as gravity.
“You’re making a bet on a woman you don’t understand. You think because I can stop someone from bleeding out, that means I will. That I’ve done it before.”
A pause. A heartbeat’s worth of space.
“Maybe I have.”
But there was no satisfaction in the admission. No pride.
Just a quiet, unshakable truth:
She had saved someone once. And in the end, it hadn’t changed a damn thing.
“And what happens when your friends find out? Because they will. You’re naïve if you think they won’t.” Her head tilted, studying him. “Will you look them in the eye and tell them you cut a deal with me? That you went behind their backs because you thought it was worth the risk?”
The next few words came unbidden, slipping out before she could stop them.
“You remind me of someone, you know?”
Her fingers stilled.
Because Erik wasn’t naïve—not really.
Neither was Mathieu.
Just kind.
And that was worse. Because people like that always paid the price for their kindness in blood.
A smile threatened the corner of his lips when she referred to him as an idiot — he has heard that plenty of times from Krish, Zarek, and the rest of the people at the Kairo tower. There was no reason to emphasize or entertain the comment really, but he let the smile appear on his face, “Maybe I am.”
“I bet they already know that I am doing this, Bella, because I brought it up. Why wouldn’t I be able to tell them that to their faces? Yes, they are going to be upset about it. I am not signing my life away to you. I am giving you an I-O-U card. I think that is pretty useful when you understand my abilities,” he added on.
Bella’s voice was quieter when she spoke again. “Fine.”
She let it hang, not giving him the relief of gratitude just yet.
“But I don’t do charity. Asterion will owe me for this. Greatly so.”
Then he shook his head, “Asterion will not owe you anything for this, Bella. I’ll owe you something. This isn’t a deal between you and him. It’s a deal between us. And I never came to you thinking you would do charity work. No one does in Nocturnia. Not even I do,” he smiled at her.
“With those words, are you still willing to come with me to the lab?” He looked at her then glanced at the door of the apartment.
“You don’t get to decide who owes me, Doctor.”
Bella unfolded herself from the chair, standing in one smooth motion.
“ But lead the way.”
A pause. The barest tilt of her head.
“And I’ll warn you now—whatever happens to him because of you?” She stepped forward and brushed past him, the ghost of expensive perfume lingering in her wake. One hand reached for her coat, fingers slipping over the fabric. “That’s not my problem.”
Erik smiled a little, “I do,” he answered. “I am asking for your help. Asterion isn’t. No one else is. You just warned me about yourself. Why would I accept that idea? I know. I am here asking for your help but I am the one asking and making the deal,” he stated in a more serious tone. “And I can back out on all of this. I have other ways to help him. You were just the fastest and easiest way. If I back out, then you get no benefits of the deal and then your time would be wasted here.”
“And you are saying things so casually, whatever happens to him isn’t because of me, it’s because of the people that hurt him. You cannot emotionally blackmail me, Bella. I might be young, I may be naive in different ways, but Asterion is already dead by statistics. Whatever happens to him is neither of our fault because he wouldn’t have a chance without me,” Erik stated confidently while he walked past her and out of the apartment.
“Now, I will say it again. You either have a deal with me or you can stay here and stay out of it, I’ll do it myself,” his eyes were serious while he looked at her. “And making a deal with me isn’t charity work if that’s what you think,” Erik didn’t stay to entertain her anymore. He began walking down the hall. His mind is already changing from asking for help to i’ll do it myself mentality. Something he was known for.
Her voice followed him down the hall, unhurried.
“ So this is what you look like when you stop asking nicely.”
She didn’t chase after him. She didn’t need to. Instead, she took her time adjusting her coat, slipping one arm through the sleeve before finally stepping out, locking the door behind her with a flick of her wrist.
“ You think you have the upper hand, but you don’t.” A small shrug. “Not really. You just think that because you’re the only one willing to make a reckless move right now.”
She caught up to him effortlessly, falling into step beside him rather than trailing behind. Proximity without submission.
Then, a dry chuckle.
“ Fine, Doctor.” Her crimson gaze slid sideways, catching his. “We’ll play it your way. But don’t think for a second that means you won this exchange.”
Her bootsteps echoed beside his.
“Because sooner or later, you’ll realize I was never the one you needed to convince.”
Erik chuckled lightly, “Why do you have such a need to keep power? You are desperately trying to keep control of this whole situation. It’s a little weird. I understand emotions are complex but why does it have to be a win or lose? Why do you think I am trying to win? I’m not. I’m trying to stay true to my core beliefs. And the belief that I am sticking to is that Asterion cannot consent to anything, if you were in this situation or anyone was, I would make sure to fight for your rights to consent as well. Once he wakes up you can talk. You can talk his ear off all you want and figure out what he owes you and what he’s willing to give you, Bella,” the young man spoke evenly with a smile.
Her crimson glare didn’t seem to affect him much and he shrugged his shoulders, “And this move isn’t reckless. You might think it is. Most people might but it would be more reckless of me to stick to my guns and try to do everything myself. It would be naive, inconsiderate, and dancing a fine line with someone else’s life. Statistically, I have done all the outcomes and I can tell you, compared to the rest of the probabilities. This is the highest one that yields a success rate that is fifteen-percent more successful than all the other ways. It is also one of the only ways that ensures his life at the highest probability of a successful outcome of eighty-eight percent compared to the rest being sixty-seven percent and below,” Erik continued to speak as they walked out of the apartment complex.
“Technically with the numbers and if you can help keep him from bleeding out. That means Asterion has a ninety-six percent chance of recovering and living with the least amount of issues compared to the seventy-nine percent or lower of all other options.”
Bella laughed.
“You think that’s what this is about? Power?”
She didn’t elaborate. Didn’t explain. She knew better than to fill the empty spaces—men like Erik would do that for her. They’d try to solve the puzzle, to pin her down into something neat and understandable. But that wasn’t how this worked.
Let him wonder. Let him try to figure her out.
It wouldn't change the fact that he’d already made his choice.
Only after a few more steps did she speak again.
“Eighty-eight percent, huh? Decent odds.”
She turned the number over in her mind like a spinning coin, waiting to see which way it would fall. Decent. Not good. Not guaranteed. A brittle assurance that looked solid on paper but meant nothing in the hands of the unpredictable. That was the illusion of probability—it gave people the arrogance to believe they could shape the future with mere calculations as if fate could be distilled into something as simple as figures and forecasts.
She had heard odds like that before. Had let them give her hope, once. And yet, the universe had paid no mind to the neat equations or careful projections she’d so dearly believed in. The outcome hadn’t bent just because someone had sat in a room, charting variables and clinging to the illusion of control.
Erik believed in math. In the power of logic.
Bella knew better.
But she didn’t say that to him either. Because some lessons weren’t worth teaching, especially when one hadn’t fully come to accept them either.
Erik glanced over at the woman with disinterest as if he was becoming bored with the game that she was playing. He knew that she was trying to weave certain seeds into his mind, learn more about him, or so on. It was making him realize how vulnerable the woman was emotionally — she tried so hard to put up a front. To look so strong and in control. That it showed all the cracks in the walls she had around her. He had no interest in playing the game of emotions. He shrugged his shoulders and continued to walk.
Were all women like this? Elara was kind of like this. However, she was extremely bitchy and way more physical. The young man glanced over to Bella in thought. Most women that he met and came across were like this except for Mitzie and June. Maybe Zarek was right about women. Exiting the apartment, he smiled, “I walked here, so I am walking back,” he informed her before stepping off the sidewalk and heading his way back to Nickel.
A raven-hued sedan lounged just beyond the curb while Dom reclined against the passenger door, exuding a languid confidence—a man all too familiar with the art of waiting. He didn’t acknowledge them right away, though she knew he’d been watching from the moment she stepped out of the building.
Bella cast a sidelong glance at Erik. His coat was laughably inadequate for the night’s creeping cold, and his frame braced against the chill as if sheer will alone could keep it at bay. His expression and words, however, told a different story—a stubborn set to his jaw and a matter-of-fact tone.
Then, without looking at him, she opened the car door and stepped aside.
“You walked here, so you’re walking back.” The words came lazily, like an echo of his own. Then, after a beat: “Or you could stop being an idiot and get in the car.”
She didn’t wait for a response.
It wasn’t kindness. It wasn’t concern. But even she wasn’t sure what it was.
Before she made her second vocalization, Erik shrugged his shoulders, and was already walking. Then he stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder with a smile, “I knew you couldn’t be so heartless,” his tone was amused and teasing. However, Asterion has made him walk plenty of times for his mouth especially after being told to be quiet or walk. For some reason… he always thought the man was joking but he has never been proven right.
Erik seemed to be cautious at first as if she was teasing him — was she doing the thing Zarek would do? Offer up a ride before shutting the door and driving away. He seemed unsure about it. “Do you trust him to drive? How safe do you think we will be in a vehicle?” The young man wasn’t scared of vehicles but he had seen a few nasty car bombs growing up so he wasn’t fully sure if Bella checked her vehicles at all or not. Maybe she had no worries about car bombs but he was still nervous about possibilities.
Bella exhaled sharply, half a laugh, half a scoff, before flicking a glance toward Dom.
“You think I’d get in a car I wasn’t sure about?”
Dom, still lounging against the passenger door, let out a low, amused noise, the kind that didn’t require words to translate. He didn’t answer—because he didn’t need to. The truth was self-evident, stitched into the very fact that they were standing here, neither of them bleeding, neither of them blown to pieces.
“You’re not scared, are you?”
A lazy provocation. Testing. Teasing. She didn’t believe he was, but that wasn’t the point. It was the reaction that interested her.
Then, as if even this momentary game had already lost its lustre, she turned away, stepping into the car. She settled into her seat, one leg still outside, the door left open like an unfinished sentence. No grand invitations. No reassurances. Just the choice—left bare, as it always was.
Dom finally straightened, stepping around the car to the driver’s seat. “Clock’s ticking, Doc,” he said, voice laced with easy indifference as he got in.
Erik looked down the street that was barely lit by street lights at this hour, one was flickering a few blocks down, and he swore he saw an odd shadow in it. For some reason, it spooked him, and not in the way of unfamiliarity. He swore that it was Zarek for some odd reason — no one followed him out of the tower, did they? He thought he kept a good eye out but he smiled back at Bella, “What about it if I am a little scared or worried? If I had no fear in me, I would be a complete fool, and if I had too much fear. I’d be an idiot and not here asking for help,” he chuckled at his words while getting into the vehicle. Closing the door behind him.
As Dom shifted the car into drive, Bella's gaze flicked to Erik—not scrutinizing, not probing, merely observing.
“Smart men don’t admit when they’re afraid.” Her head inclined ever so slightly. “And fools don’t realize they should be.”
Because fear was a peculiar thing. It wasn’t the gunfire, the flash of steel, or the threats hissed in alleyways that made it dangerous. No, those were easy—visible, predictable. The kind of dangers that could be confronted, dodged, or even outmaneuvered if you played it right.
It was the unseen ones that held real power. The ones nestled inside choices you could never unmake. The ones that stitched themselves into your bones so subtly that by the time you noticed, you weren’t the same person anymore.
“You think you know what you’re asking for. But you don’t.”
