Chapter 51: Chapter Fifty-One: Nightmare

When did opening one's eyes become an extremely difficult thing?

She gritted her teeth, pouring all her strength toward the thin layer of eyelids; her consciousness raced through darkness for a long while before finally finding a sliver of light.

"You're awake?" In her haze, she heard the girl's cheerful voice.

"... water..." She struggled to open her mouth but produced no sound, only futilely opening and closing it until, utterly drained, she forced from the depths of her soul the most desperate plea.

"Here, I knew you'd wake up, so I prepared warm water in advance." The girl with twin tails, her red pupils wide, carefully brought the cup to her lips.

She had no strength to thank her, only greedily opening her mouth, drinking the water of life with the red-eyed girl's help.

After drinking, she collapsed back onto the bed; a strange weakness, accompanied by throbbing pain, constantly eroded her battered soul.

After a long while, on the hundred-eighth breath, she regained the ability to speak.

"Thank you... Rebecca." Her eyes silently gazed at the white ceiling as she slowly reclaimed her speech, word by word.

"It's okay... Sasha, the doctor says your condition is good..."

"How long has it been?" Sasha interrupted Rebecca's reassurance, asking softly, her voice still hoarse.

"Seven days... Since you fell from that unmanned Floating Car, you've been unconscious for seven days..." Rebecca sat beside the bed, holding Sasha's pale hands, warming her trembling soul with her palms.

"The news... about Securicine—did you see it?" Sasha suddenly grabbed Rebecca's arm, asking eagerly.

"We saw it, Sasha... you did it." Rebecca shifted closer, wrapping her arms tightly around the frail girl's slender frame, gently patting her back to soothe her surging, turbulent emotions.

"Mm..." Receiving the answer she had longed for, Sasha smiled with genuine joy for the first time in days.

"Biotechnica has suffered a major blow; its former allies have abandoned it, and rival companies are rushing to strike while it's down... Sasha, you must live well—you must witness with your own eyes the day that this shameless, hateful beast dies completely, okay? Promise me!" Rebecca gripped Sasha's fragile, pale hands tightly, fearing that upon learning her vengeance was complete, Sasha might suddenly embrace death.

"Don't worry... I'm not that fragile—just paralyzed..." Sasha smiled gently; the illusion of lost legs could not shatter her growing resilience.

"The doctor says... it can be treated, don't worry too much... Mann is already looking for a way."

"Mm..." Sasha nodded, her breath releasing in relief, immediately collapsing weakly against Rebecca.

"Sasha... rest a little longer, I'll stay with you." Rebecca whispered, kicked off her shoes, slipped under the covers, and held Sasha's soft body tightly, pouring all her warmth into offering boundless tenderness.

"Mm."

Sasha murmured in response, gently closing her eyes, curling up, hiding in the warm embrace of petite Rebecca.

Just like many years ago, when she lay in her mother's arms on her hospital bed, happily celebrating her birthday.

A warm current continuously surged from her heart, flowing through her veins to her entire body; the soothing warmth lulled her into sleep.

"Goodnight, Sasha." Rebecca gazed at the sleeping Sasha, her eyes brimming with delicate tenderness.

Mann had been working nonstop for the past week, frantically taking on every commission to pay for the exorbitant medical bills.

Now, a massive job lay before him; he desperately sought another reliable team to collaborate with.

Rebecca sighed, lying on the bed, staring at the pure white ceiling, lost in thought.

"It really feels like a cold stretch of snow, just like this *egg world—cruel and heartless."

Mann pointed at the snow-white ceiling above, gulping down beer in large swallows.

"Mann, drink less." The bulky woman beside him frowned, snatching the half-empty bottle from his hand.

"Before the appointment time comes, just rest a bit—stop drinking."

"Dorio, you know... for me, drinking is a way to relax."

Dorio said nothing, only coldly stared at the burly man beside her.

Through the barrier of his sunglasses, she could faintly sense the endless fatigue and guilt buried in his eyes.

"Sigh..." She sighed, forcefully pulling Mann down onto her lap.

"Rest a while, Mann—this bottle, you can drink it when you wake up." Dorio finally softened, her tone slightly gentler.

"Mm."

Mann gritted his teeth against the searing pain deep in his brain, slowly closing his eyes.

He did not sleep peacefully.

His neural fibers were being whipped one by one, as if a demon from hell had crawled into his skull, cackling madly while randomly plucking strings, playing a blood-colored symphony unbearable to human ears.

Perhaps the excess alcohol took effect—the demon laughed foolishly and left.

Silence lasted only a few seconds before an invisible scorpion emerged from the folds of his brain.

It clung with sharp talons to the fleshy walls, starting from his brain, crawling across his entire body.

Its venomous tail stinger lashed out, matching each step, piercing one nerve after another across Mann's entire nervous network.

One after another, the torment made him frown tightly, helplessly writhing in his sleep.

He wanted to roar—but no sound came out.

He wanted to raise his arm cannon and fire into the endless darkness—but found his limbs had vanished.

He wanted to open his eyes, face his fear—but saw only empty space behind his skull.

His eyes were shut, yet countless eyes slowly opened across his entire body.

The boundless rage and guilt buried in his heart erupted suddenly, blasting his broken body outward.

As if weightless, he soared endlessly upward.

About to pierce through the damp clouds.

He realized this, excitedly reaching to kiss the fading clouds.

He was about to break through the darkness.

He chewed greedily on the remaining clouds, happily thinking.

His broken body kept flying—until space, where he saw a blinding streak of light.

"You're awake?"

In his daze, Mann heard a man softly speaking.

"What just happened to him? He was convulsing nonstop, his cybernetics out of control." A familiar woman's voice, laced with concern, urgently asked.

"He nearly went mad."

"So that is why you called me to feed him medicine?"

"Yes."

"I owe you a favor."

Mann struggled a few times, following the guidance of the voice, drifting toward the source of light.

He awoke.