Episode 5 – The Rift and the Scalpel
The city was alive, restless, pulsing like a giant infected wound that only Michael Carter could heal. Sirens wailed, neon lights flickered, and Roosevelt Memorial hospital carried on its endless dance of chaos and betrayal.
But Michael wasn't the same intern who walked into this place a month ago.
[Level 5 – Prestige 0]
[XP: 1,200 / 5,000]
[Skills: Cellular Restoration | Surgical Precision | Nerve Reconstruction | Dimensional Awareness | Cross-Species Adaptation]
The cap sat in his head like an iron rule—5,000 XP per level. Every save brought him closer. Every life meant more money, more skills, more respect. And yet, more enemies.
⸻
Hospital Politics
Morning rounds buzzed louder than usual. Lang's gossip about Michael and Jessica had escalated. The nurses called him a player. The residents painted him as a fraud. But the patients whispered his name like prayer.
Michael stood calm among the noise, hoodie under his scrubs, earbuds dangling, weed smoke still faint in his breath.
The chief of surgery stormed into the room. "Enough with the gossip. Carter, you're with me. OR. Now."
Lang's jaw tightened. Michael just smirked, sliding his hands into his pockets.
⸻
Case #6 – The Senator Returns
The chief wasn't taking him to any normal case. Instead, they entered a private suite—where the senator himself sat, red-faced and sweating bullets. His wife, who Michael had "thanked" privately, stood silently in the corner, eyes flickering toward Michael with heat.
The senator clutched his chest, wheezing. "Fix me," he barked.
Michael laid a hand on him. His glow surged. The blocked arteries cleared in seconds, years of damage dissolving under his power. The senator gasped in relief.
[XP +2,000]
[Balance: +$1,000]
[XP: 3,200 / 5,000]
The chief's eyes widened. The senator's wife's lips curled in a secret smile.
"Carter," the chief muttered, "you're a goddamn miracle machine."
Lang, watching from the shadows, clenched his fists.
⸻
Betrayal in the Dark
That night, Michael returned to the on-call room to grab his stash. But he wasn't alone.
Jessica slipped in, biting her lip. "Lang's going to the board with everything. He's trying to destroy you. But fuck—I can't stay away."
Her hands found his scrubs, pulling him down. Lips collided, bodies tangled, sweat mixing with whispered curses.
"Michael…" she moaned, breathless, shaking as he pinned her to the bed.
But outside, in the dark hallway, Lang's eyes glowed with hatred as he snapped photos. Evidence. Blackmail. Revenge.
⸻
The Rift Calls
Later, walking home, Michael felt the pull. The rift outside his apartment pulsed brighter, buzzing in his skull. His Dimensional Awareness screamed—another world was bleeding.
He stepped through.
⸻
World of Fire
On the other side, a desert battlefield stretched under a burning red sky. Alien soldiers clashed with reptilian beasts. Plasma fire tore through the air.
Michael sprinted forward as a soldier collapsed, leg blown apart. Without hesitation, Michael pressed his glowing hands down. Flesh rewove, bone fused, nerves sparked back to life. The soldier screamed—then stood, ready to fight again.
[XP +1,000]
[XP: 4,200 / 5,000]
Another soldier fell, venom eating through his chest. Michael adapted instantly, his Cross-Species Adaptation kicking in. The venom purged, tissue restored.
[XP +800]
[XP: 5,000 / 5,000]
[Level Up! You are now Level 6 Healer.]
[New Skill Unlocked: Rapid Multi-Target Healing.]
Michael felt the surge explode through his body. He could heal entire groups now, his glow spreading like wildfire.
He raised his hands, unleashing light across the battlefield. Dozens of soldiers gasped awake, wounds sealing, bodies restored.
The army roared his name in their tongue, calling him "Savior."
Michael smirked. "Same shit, different world."
Back in New York
He returned hours later, bloodied scrubs stuffed in a bag, smoke curling from his blunt. The XP bar reset in his mind, steady as always:
[XP: 0 / 5,000]
[Level 6 – Prestige 0]
His phone buzzed. A text from Jessica: "Lang's going public tomorrow. He has proof."
Another from the senator's wife: "I need you tonight. My husband's asleep."
And another, unknown number: "We know what you are. Meet us. Midnight. Or else."
Michael leaned back in his busted apartment chair, exhaling smoke toward the ceiling.
Hospital politics. Scandals. Betrayals.
Alien battlefields. Limitless worlds. Limitless lives.
He was juggling both—and leveling faster than anyone could imagine.
Michael grinned, calm, dangerous.
"I am the cure. And nobody's ready for what comes next."