Late-night hush settled over NovaGene's quarantine ward as Nova Jin hovered beside Xander's isolation chamber. Through the reinforced glass, he lay strapped to a medical cot, eyes fluttering as the projector above traced his core temperature in angry red spikes.
“Fever's climbing past 40 °C," intoned Dr. Landon Grey's successor, Dr. Haruto Nakamura, voice clipped through the intercom. “Synthetic antibody dose holding at eight milligrams, but his cytokine levels are off the charts."
Xander's hand curled around the cot rail; sweat beaded on his brow. He tried to speak but choked on a ragged breath.
Nova pressed her palm to the glass. “We need more," she called, voice tight. “Increase flow rate—20 percent."
On the console, the nurse tapped commands. The IV pumps whined as dosage rose incr
