Outside the operating room, a massive 100-inch high-def monitor was surrounded by a crowd of nurses, doctors, and even some curious patients. Ashley stood at the front, fingers laced tightly in front of her chest like she was praying. Her hands trembled slightly, and her eyes didn’t blink as she stared at the screen. Celina folded her arms smugly, stepping right up to Ashley and scoffing, “So what? You really think she’s gonna save your son? Even if Hippocrates came back from the dead, there’s nothing he could do today.” She had been present during the second and third surgeries and knew just how damaged the kid’s heart was. Ashley stayed silent. She didn’t know a thing about medicine, but something about that girl had made her believe. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe it was the fact that the girl had convinced her to contact Cassian. “I trust her,” she said quietly. Celina sneered, about to add another jab… Ashley’s phone rang. She stepped aside to answer it, ignoring the woman completely. Irritated by the cold shoulder, Celina stormed up to the front of the crowd and glared at the screen, waiting gleefully for the girl to mess up. Inside the operating room, anesthesia and sterilization were complete. Seraphina, her surgical mask secured, stood calm and composed. Her eyes gleamed with confidence as she met Alaric’s gaze. They exchanged a silent nod. “Scalpel,” Alaric ordered. The assistant handed it over. With practiced ease, he made the first incision—clean, precise. Perfect. No wonder he was the director. The crowd watching outside gasped in awe. But just then, someone in the crowd sneered, “Told you! She’s just here because of connections. The first cut’s the easiest, and even that had to be done by the director. She’s useless.” “Yeah, this is gonna be a one-man show. Let’s go. Nothing to see.” Celina let out a loud laugh, mocking, “She’s nothing but a clown. Calls other people stupid—please. She’s the joke.” If that girl could perform this surgery, she’d walk naked through Draycroft Hospital. Some people began to shift, ready to leave, when someone suddenly shouted, “Wait—look!” The crowd turned—and froze. Oh God. The heart was completely destroyed. The patient had been born with transposed great arteries. The first two surgeries had turned the chambers into a single atrium. Now, the organs were stuck together, swollen, and in critical condition. Aside from a tiny portion, the entire heart structure was shredded. Every part needed reconstruction. The doctors exchanged glances—each seeing the same thing in the other’s eyes. “This is impossible,” someone muttered in disbelief. They were right. It wasn’t just complex. It was beyond surgical reality—possibly the most complicated heart procedure ever attempted. Inside, even Alaric hesitated, sweat beading on his brow. An assistant moved in to dab it away. “Director, maybe we should close up,” someone suggested. There was no way forward. The air in the room grew heavy with the weight of a life about to slip away. Then—Seraphina’s voice cut through. “Scalpel.” The command was crisp, firm. Like a jolt of electricity through the room. Her eyes flickered with a glow, steady and cold. “Set up cardiopulmonary bypass. We’re stopping the heart.” “Yes, Doctor.” Everything went into motion. Seraphina’s hands moved fast but sure, step by step. First, she had to rebuild the heart to its original structure. Then she would realign the great arteries. Turning a single atrium back into two required hundreds of precision sutures. The real surgery was just beginning. Hour five. She kept sewing. Meticulous, delicate stitches. The child’s heart had stopped beating for three hours already—but only half the procedure was done. “Inject another dose of cardioplegia,” she ordered. The assistant gawked. The risk just doubled. “Oh my God. Am I dreaming?” someone outside cried. “This surgery is insane—and that young girl’s handling it like it’s a textbook case!” “She’s not just skilled. She’s superhuman!” “She’s not even human!” “This is genius. Actual genius!” Even Celina, who’d been grinning a moment ago, now stood frozen, eyes wide. “No way. This isn’t happening…” This surgery had stumped the director himself. And yet this girl moved with ease. Was she even real? Meanwhile, Ashley’s phone buzzed again. She answered just as a man waved to her from across the room. “Ashley,” Victor said kindly as he approached. “How’s the surgery going? Mr. Drayven brought two top-tier cardiovascular experts. Hopefully, they can help.” All eyes turned. A tall, striking man had appeared beside him, dressed in a crisp white shirt and tailored black pants. Cassian Drayven. Every inch of him screamed authority. Cold, refined, untouchable. Two legendary professors stood behind him, renowned in the medical world—just as respected as Alaric himself. The crowd gasped. People instinctively stepped back, giving him space, a five-foot radius forming around him like a forcefield. No one dared speak. He was the heir to the Drayven family—Valedawn’s richest and most mysterious dynasty. Rumor had it he was adopted. He was useless and idle. But no one dared cross him. Ashley had no idea who he really was. She had met him by chance two months ago during a storm. He had offered her and her son a ride when they were stranded in the rain. She mentioned her son’s rare condition. He introduced her to Alaric, who performed the first surgery. Since then, they hadn’t spoken. Ashamed, she wrung her hands. “I’m sorry to bother you again. The surgery’s still going. We’ll have to wait for the result.” “Who’s the lead surgeon?” Cassian asked. His voice was low, calm, but carried weight. “I… I don’t know.” No one knew. Not her name. Not her title. Just that she was young. Victor frowned. “Ashley, how could you let a complete stranger operate on your son—especially someone that young?” He turned to the professors, ready to suggest they take over. But before he could speak, both men stared at the screen in stunned silence. One of them whispered, “Flawless. Absolutely flawless. This girl… she’s a once-in-a-generation genius.”