The lobby doors didn't just open; they were practically kicked off their hinges.
Mayor Anderson stormed in, his face a mask of purple rage.
Flanking him were four armed police officers and a weeping woman—his wife.
"Where is she?!" the Mayor roared, his voice shaking the glass panes of the reception desk.
"Where is the Director?!"
Elizabeth, who had been hiding in her office trying to manage the plummeting stock prices, ran out into the hallway.
Her heels clicked frantically against the floor.
She looked pale, her usual composure shattering under the weight of the city's most powerful man.
"Mr. Mayor!" she gasped, smoothing her skirt. "Please, we are doing everything we can…"
"Everything isn't enough!" the Mayor screamed, grabbing a vase from a nearby table and smashing it onto the floor.
Elizabeth jumped in fright.
"My son stopped breathing twice in the ambulance! You told me Gold Medical had the best specialists in the state. You told me you could handle the surgery!"
He stepped closer, invading Elizabeth's personal space.
"If my son dies in this building, I will burn it to the ground. I will revoke your license, seize your assets, and throw you and your entire board of directors in prison for negligence. Do you understand me?!"
Elizabeth trembled, her eyes darting around for help. "We… I operated on him the first time, but now we have our Chief of Surgery on it right now. My father is the best."
She pointed to Chris, who was still on the floor nursing his crushed hand.
Chris scrambled up, hiding his trembling hand behind his back. He forced a confident smile, though beads of sweat were rolling down his forehead.
"Mr. Mayor," Chris said, his voice cracking slightly. "It's… it's a complex case. But we have stabilized him. We're moving him to the ICU right now for a specialized dopamine drip."
As if on cue, the double doors at the end of the hall swung open.
A team of nurses rushed a gurney through the lobby. On it lay a 17-year-old boy.
He looked like a corpse. His skin was translucent and grey, his lips were blue, and his body was arching off the mattress in violent, silent spasms.
"My baby!" The Mayor's wife shrieked, collapsing into her husband's arms.
Burt stood by the elevators, watching with his Medical Gaze.
His pupils constricted, glowing with a faint, amber light that no one else noticed.
The world slowed down. The skin of the boy on the gurney became transparent to Burt's eyes.
He saw the muscles tearing from the spasms. He saw the blood vessels constricting.
And then, he saw it.
It wasn't a virus. It wasn't a fever.
Wrapped around the boy's heart was a dark, swirling mist of blue energy. It pulsed rhythmically, like a parasite, feeding on the boy's life force.
Every time the doctors injected a stimulant, the mist grew larger, tightening its grip.
Shadow Frost Toxin, Burt realized instantly what it was. It was an ancient and lethal toxin which fed on adrenaline.
"Get him to the trauma room!" Chris shouted, trying to look authoritative. "His heart rate is dropping! Prepare 10cc of Epinephrine! We need to jump-start his system!"
The nurse grabbed a syringe. "Yes, Doctor!"
Burt's eyes narrowed immediately and he spoke before he could stop himself.
"If you inject that, he will be dead in thirty seconds."
The silence that followed was absolute.
The Mayor whipped his head around. "Who said that?"
Elizabeth turned, her eyes widening as she finally really looked at the man in the charcoal suit.
For a second, she didn't recognize him. The posture, the clothes, the cold authority seemed all foreign.
Then she saw the eyes.
"Burt?" she whispered, shock replacing her fear.
Chris's face twisted into a snarl. "You again? Security! Why is he still here?!"
"Wait!" the Mayor barked, looking at Burt. "What did you say?"
Burt stepped forward and looked straight at Chris, calmly explaining, "I said, if you give him Epinephrine, you will kill him. He isn't having a seizure."
"He's suffering from a Cold Toxin blockage in his meridian channels. His heart is already frozen. Adrenaline will cause his aorta to shatter like glass."
Chris let out a harsh, incredulous laugh. "Meridians? Cold Toxin? Listen to yourself. You're talking about fairy tales!"
He then turned to the Mayor, desperate to regain control.
"Mr. Mayor, ignore him! This man is my ex-son-in-law. He's a former ambulance driver who we fired today for stealing drugs. He may have a medical license, but he's totally useless in the operating room."
Elizabeth stepped in, her voice shrill. "We were hoping it wouldn't come to this, but this whole thing started because of the mess he made in the operating room."
"So now he's just trying to cause a scene because I divorced and fired him dor his incompetence."
The Mayor looked at Burt, his expression hardening. "Is this true? You're a driver?"
Burt nodded sincerely. "I was."
The Mayor's face clouded over. "Then get out of my sight before I have you shot. Chris, you have to save my son!"
"With pleasure," Chris smirked at Burt. He grabbed the syringe from the nurse. "Watch and learn, you worthless idiot."
He raised the needle.
Burt didn't move to stop him. He just crossed his arms and looked at the clock on the wall.
"Three," he counted softly.
In front of him, Chris jammed the needle into the boy's IV line.
"Two," Burt whispered agsin.
Chris pushed the plunger and the adrenaline hit the boy's bloodstream.
"One." Burt concluded, squeezing his eyes shut.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.
The heart monitor, which had been beeping erratically, suddenly let out a single, long, continuous tone.
The boy on the gurney went rigid. Then, he slumped back, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
"Cardiac arrest!" a nurse screamed. "We lost a pulse! He's flatlining!"
"What?!" Chris dropped the syringe, his face turning white as a sheet. "That's impossible! Epinephrine should have…"
"My son!" The Mayor's wife screamed, a sound of pure agony.
"Do something!" the Mayor yelled, grabbing Chris by the collar and slamming him against the wall. "Fix him!"
"I... I don't know!" Chris stammered, tears of panic welling in his eyes. "We followed protocol! His heart just... stopped!"
Chaos erupted. Nurses were starting CPR, cracking the boy's ribs in a desperate attempt to force the heart to beat. But the monitor remained a flat line.
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.
The sound was the death knell of the Gold family.
In the middle of the panic, Burt stood perfectly still, adjusting his cufflink.
"I told you. Thirty seconds."