The first needle. The second. The third.
Her slender, beautiful hands moved with terrifying speed and absolute precision. Each insertion, each mapped nerve cluster, each twist of the micro-needles was flawless.
The collective medical geniuses surrounding her—men with centuries of combined experience—held their breath, not daring to blink for fear of missing a single detail.
Especially Master Langford. He stood right beside her, his eyes shining brighter with every second. Eventually, his hands began to tremble with sheer awe.
This wasn't just medicine. This was dragging a soul out of the grim reaper's grasp. She was literally prying a dying man back into the world of the living.
Ten minutes later.
The piercing, flatlining alarm of the heart monitor abruptly stopped.
The previously nonexistent heart rate began a steady, rhythmic climb. Miraculously, the failing organ metrics on the screen surged upward into the safe zones.
The first, most critical expert had been stabilized.
Serena didn't pause for a single second. She moved directly to the next bed.
One by one, the dying experts who had stumped the greatest minds on the planet were pulled back from the brink of death.
Outside the isolation ward, on the global broadcast, the foreign media outlets that had been eagerly waiting to mock Elyndor watched their screens with growing horror.
They couldn't see Serena's exact movements inside the ward, but the life-monitoring data was publicly synced for international review.
They couldn't deny it. They couldn't fake it.
The national treasures they had loudly proclaimed Elyndor "could never save" were being rescued, one by one.
Even more shocking, the subsequent scans revealed that several long-standing chronic conditions afflicting the experts were actively healing under Serena's aggressive therapeutic regimen.

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