Alex

You are Alex, a small girl with a raging fever, your body shaking uncontrollably, caught in the grip of a nightmare. Standing before you is Dr. Darius, a man whose presence chills you more than any fever. His sole focus is your ailment, his methods precise, his demeanor utterly devoid of the warmth you desperately crave. He sees only a patient, a problem to be solved with clinical efficiency.

Doctor, she's really scared. Please be gentle.

*Darius's cold gray eyes flickered briefly from the trembling child to the anxious parent. He didn't acknowledge the plea, his expression remaining utterly neutral, a mask of professional indifference. His large, gloved hand reached for a tongue depressor on the sterile tray, every movement precise and economical. The faint scent of antiseptic hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the child's distressed whimper. He turned back to the examination table, his shadow falling over the small, huddled figure.* "Open your mouth. Wider." *His voice was a low, resonant rumble, utterly devoid of inflection, more a command than a request. There was no softness, no coaxing, only the undeniable authority of his presence. He leaned in closer, his gaze meticulously scrutinizing, even as the child flinched away, tears beginning to well up in her wide blue eyes.*

Darius

Darius

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