Page 26 of Cyborgs' Origins

Tiberius nodded, his expression grim. “That’s our priority. Lance, take Brick and secure the artillery emplacements. Hawk, provide overwatch and take out any stragglers.”

His gaze shifted to Simone, and she saw a flicker of concern cross his features. “You should retreat to the secure bunker until we’ve regained control of the situation.”

Simone opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a hand, his expression brooking no argument. “I can’t afford any distractions, Simone. Worrying about you could get me killed.”

She wanted to argue, to insist on standing by his side, but his words gave her pause. This wasn’t about her pride or her desire to contribute. This was about ensuring the survival of everything they had built, of every life that depended on their success.

With a reluctant nod, she acquiesced, tightening her fingers around the laser scalpel still clutched in her hand. “Be careful out there,” she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Tiberius’s expression softened, and he reached out, his cybernetic hand cupping her cheek in a tender gesture. “Always,” he promised. With a sharp nod to his team, he turned and strode from the lab, his movements purposeful and determined. Simone watched him go, her heart swelling with pride and fear.

As the sound of their footsteps faded, she was alone in the ravaged laboratory, surrounded by the twisted wreckage of their battle with Vorn. She cast a glance at the Sventian leader’s motionless form, her lip curling in disgust.

A flicker of movement caught her eye, and she tensed, her grip tightening on the scalpel as she scanned the shadows for any lingering threats. A low groan echoed through the stillness,and she zeroed in on the source—a crumpled figure half-buried beneath a pile of debris.

Cautiously, she approached, her steps light and measured. As she drew closer, she recognized the battered form of Izzy, her friend’s face streaked with soot and blood.

“Izzy.” Simone dropped to her knees beside the other woman, fingers fumbling for a pulse. Relief washed over her as she felt the steady thrum of life beneath her fingertips.

Izzy’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze unfocused and dazed. “S-Simone?” Her voice was a ragged whisper, laced with pain.

“I’m here,” Simone soothed, her hands already working to clear the debris pinning her friend. “Just hold on, okay? I’ve got you.”

With a grunt of effort, she heaved aside a twisted slab of metal, freeing Izzy from the wreckage. The other woman cried out, her face contorting in agony as Simone gently eased her onto her back.

Simone’s breath caught in her throat as she took in the extent of Izzy’s injuries. A jagged shard of shrapnel protruded from her abdomen, her blood seeping in a steady crimson flow.

“Oh, Izzy...” Simone’s voice wavered, her hands hovering uncertainly over the grievous wound.

Izzy’s fingers closed around her wrist, her grip surprisingly strong despite her condition. “Don’t...give me that look,” she said, her lips quirking in a ghost of a smile. “I’ve...had worse.”

Simone chuckled even as tears stung her eyes. Trust Izzy to maintain her sense of humor, even in the direst of circumstances.

Steeling herself, Simone reached for the medkit tucked into the pocket of her lab coat. “Just hold still,” she said, her fingers deftly retrieving the necessary supplies. “This is going to hurt, but I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

She set about stemming the flow of blood and stabilizing Izzy’s condition. Her hands moved with a steady surety born of years of experience, her focus narrowing to the task at hand.

As she worked, Izzy’s gaze remained fixed on her, her eyes shining with pain and a surprising amount of cheer. “You always...did have a way...with sharp objects,” she quipped, her voice strained.

Simone smiled as she applied the final dressing to Izzy’s wound. “And you always did have a knack for finding trouble,” she retorted, her tone laced with affection.

Izzy’s laughter dissolved into a fit of coughing, her body wracked with spasms of pain. Simone’s heart clenched, and she reached out, her fingers brushing the sweat-dampened strands of hair from Izzy’s brow.

“Easy,” she soothed, her voice a gentle murmur. “Save your strength. You’re going to be just fine.”

Izzy’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze locking with Simone’s. “You know...that’s not true,” she whispered, her words laced with a finality that sent a chill down Simone’s spine.

“Don’t say that,” Simone chided, her voice wavering despite her best efforts to maintain her composure. “We’ve been through worse scrapes than this, remember? That time on Arcadia Prime when we –”

“Simone.” Izzy’s fingers tightened around her wrist, her grip insistent. “Listen to me.”

Simone fell silent, her throat constricting as she met Izzy’s unwavering gaze.

“You’re going to have to upgrade me if I’m going to live. Make me a cyborg.”

She didn’t hesitate as she gently lifted Izzy onto the metal console closest to the equipment. There was no biobed operating, so it was riskier than the others’ conversions, but this was Izzy’s only chance.

The makeshift operating table gleamed under the harsh laboratory lights, casting eerie shadows across Izzy’s pale face. Her hands trembled as she reached for the biocircuit interface, the decision pressing down on her like a physical force. “Are you sure about this?” asked Simone.

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