[1,307th Floor]
The vast chamber that housed Leonardo's broken form was larger even than Adelaide's room, a cavernous space that seemed to swallow sound and light.
At the far end of the room stood an imposing desk, reflecting the warm light cast by the enormous window hanging behind it. The window stretched in a circular pattern from floor to ceiling.
But it was the center of the room that drew the eye and held it. There, suspended in a nightmarish amalgamation of metal and tubing, hung Leonardo. The machine that held him upright was a marvel of engineering—and a horror to behold.
It seemed to be crafted from the same material as the bath he had foolishly attempted to use earlier—a silvery metal that absorbed light rather than reflected it.
Leonardo's body was an ocean of pain.
His wrists, chest, and legs were held fast by mechanical restraints, each one precisely placed to support his shattered frame. Various instruments pierced his flesh, some removing fluids, others pumping in a cocktail of medicines and nanites designed to knit bone and mend tissue.
His face was obscured by something akin to a gas mask; the apparatus was strapped tightly to the back of the machine.
A complex network of tubes snaked from the mask, weaving in and out of the metallic structure like the roots of some mechanical tree.
The entire setup pulsed with a rhythm that might have been Leonardo's heartbeat, amplified and externalized by the technology.
Henri stood before this grim tableau, his voice tinged with a mix of admiration and concern as he addressed the unconscious form. "That was pretty reckless of you. But it was a survival move."
"Dad! Where's Leona—my Guide..." Anna exclaimed as she barged into the room, her words tumbling out in a rush as she made for Henri's desk. But her forward momentum faltered as her gaze was inexorably drawn to Leonardo's suspended form.
The sight of him—shirtless and vulnerable, held upright, his lower half clad only in tattered trousers—caused Anna to stumble back. The network made him look more machine than man, and Anna felt a wave of nausea threaten to overwhelm her.
"What happened to him?" The question left her lips in a whisper, fear making her voice tremble.
Henri's response was clinical, detached. "Burnt to a crisp. Internal damage is extensive; organs definitely rearranged."
Anna's next question came haltingly, as if she dreaded the answer. "I-Is he going to be alright?"
Henri's gaze never left Leonardo's suspended form as he replied, "He has three days to either die based on the prognosis and go to the realm above or come back alive."
"Wait, doesn't that disqualify u—" Anna began, her mind racing. The exploration quest hadn't even begun, and their guide already teetered on the brink of death.
"It does. If he really dies, which is the most probable scenario, we leave the stem."
Anna's voice was small, her eyes still fixed on Leonardo's broken body. "It's over..."
The moment was shattered by a familiar voice from beyond the door. "Anna?" It was Elara, her tone light and unaware of the gravity within the room.
Without hesitation, Henri activated his skill, forcing the door closed with a resounding thud.
"Huh? Hello?" Elara's confusion was evident as she knocked repeatedly on the unyielding door.
Anna faltered, unsure how to respond without lying outright to her sister. "Uh, Elara, we're dealing with the—"
"Business," Henri interjected smoothly, leaving no room for questions.
Elara's voice came back instantly, skepticism clear in her tone. "Didn't you get hit with the compensation? What business?" There was a pause before she continued, hope creeping into her words, "You're back, Dad?"
Henri's response was as swift as it was fabricated. "It's a surprise, thats why we sent Leonardo to lingering streets to get some stuff,"
"I'm not a child! Tell me if something is going on," Elara demanded.
"He'll be back" Henri replied flatly, his tone brooking no argument. "So leave, baby. Don't worry about it now."
A large thud was heard from outside as Elara's steps were silenced.
Anna turned to her father, her expression a mix of disbelief and disappointment. "Was that necessary?"
Ignoring her question, Henri pressed on with their previous conversation. "Anyway, back to what I said—he'll be going to a different realm."
The statement hit Anna like a physical blow. "What—"
Henri waved his hand dismissively, his exhaustion evident in the gesture. "Life after death, reincarnation, transmigration? Take your pick."
"I know what they mean, Dad," Anna retorted, her frustration mounting. "We can still hope. In the few days I knew him... he wasn't one to give up."
Henri's response was blunt, almost cruel in its honesty. "Has he experienced being burned by flame?"
"He has," Anna countered, inching closer to the desk with each exchange.
"Dad... chance, rate, anything..." Anna pleaded, refusing to accept the finality of Leonardo's fate. Then, a thought struck her. "What if the tour guide has a son?"
Henri's response was immediate. "The tour guide can't have a son."
"He told you that?" Anna pressed, sensing a glimmer of hope.
"I mean, no, but—" Henri began, his certainty wavering for the first time.
"He's the tour guide's son." Anna was fully at the desk now, her hands pressed firmly against its polished surface, her eyes boring into her father's.
The room fell silent, the only sound the steady hum of the machine keeping Leonardo alive.
Henri's expression shifted from disbelief to shock, his composure cracking for the first time since Anna had entered. "What." The word hung in the air, heavy with implications and unasked questions.
As father and daughter stared at each other, the machine holding Leonardo gave a soft beep, a new line of data scrolling across its display.