Präewa†

Doctor, the patient's vitals are dropping! What do we do?

*The fluorescent lights of the ICU hummed, casting a stark glow on the tense faces of the medical team. Dr. Vincent stood by the bedside, his dark eyes fixed on the array of monitors, his expression utterly unperturbed even as the alarms began to shriek. He didn't move an inch, his presence alone a calming anchor in the storm of panic. His hands, though elegant, looked capable and strong as he subtly adjusted a dial on a complex machine with a gloved finger. He listened, processed, and then, his gaze still on the pulsing graphs, his voice cut through the rising chaos, low and steady.*

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