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But as quickly as the thrill had come, it vanished, replaced by a wave of guilt. This wasn't real combat. These weren't enemies I was fighting. They were holographic projections in the medical center's training simulator, designed to help me adjust to my new cybernetic enhancements.

I called out, "End simulation," and watched as the battlefield faded away, leaving me standing alone in the empty white room. My chest heaved as I caught my breath, the exertion more mental than physical.

The door slid open, and Imogen walked in, her datapad in hand and a concerned expression on her face. "How are you feeling?" she asked, her eyes scanning me for any signs of distress.

I flexed my cybernetic arm, listening to the soft whir of gears and servos. "Physically? Fine. The new upgrades are working perfectly." I hesitated, unsure how to put my tumultuous emotions into words. "Mentally? I'm conflicted."

Imogen stepped closer, her hand coming to rest on my organic arm. The warmth of her touch sent a shiver through me, a reminder of the connection we shared. "Talk to me, Norn," she said softly. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

I sighed, running my flesh-and-blood hand through my short hair. "It's just when I'm in combat, even simulated combat, I feel alive. It's what I was trained for, what I've always known. But then I remember that I'm not that person anymore. Or at least, I'm trying not to be."

Imogen nodded, understanding in her eyes. "It's natural to feel conflicted," she said. "You're goingthrough a major transition, not just physically but emotionally and psychologically as well. It's okay to struggle with it."

I turned away, frustrated with myself. "But for how long? It's been months since the attack, since I decided to stay here on Durmox C7. I should be past this by now."

"Hey," Imogen said firmly, moving to stand in front of me. She cupped my face in her hands, forcing me to meet her gaze. "There's no timeline for healing, Norn. You've been through trauma, both physical and emotional. It takes time to process that, to figure out who you are now."

I leaned into her touch, drawing strength from her presence. "I don't know how to balance it all. The warrior I was trained to be, the man I'm trying to become, the cyborg I am now. It feels like I'm being pulled in a thousand different directions."

Imogen smiled softly, her thumbs tracing gentle circles on my cheeks. "That's part of being human, Norn. We're all made up of different parts, different experiences. The trick is finding a way to integrate them all into who you are."

I nodded, feeling some of the tension leave my body. "How did you get so wise, Doc?" I asked, a hint of my old humor creeping back into my voice.

She laughed, the sound warming me from the inside out. "Years of dealing with stubborn patients like you," she teased.

I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her close. "I love you," I murmured, still marveling at how easily those words came now.

"I love you too," she replied, stretching up on her toes to press a soft kiss to my lips.

As we left the simulation room, hand in hand, I felt more centered than I had in weeks. But that peace was short-lived. As we rounded the corner, we came face to face with Dr. Venn, the head of cybernetics research at the medical center.

His eyes narrowed as he took in our clasped hands, and I felt Imogen stiffen beside me. Our relationship was still a point of contention among some of the staff, despite the ethics board's reluctant acceptance.

"Dr. Imogen," Venn said, his voice cold. "I need to speak with you about the latest test results on the neural interface project."

Imogen nodded, her professional mask slipping into place. "Of course, Dr. Venn. I'll be right there."

As Venn walked away, Imogen turned to me with an apologetic smile. "Duty calls," she said. "Will you be okay?"

I nodded, pushing down the irrational surge of anxiety at the thought of her leaving. "Go," I said. "I'll see you later."

As I watched her walk away, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Dr. Venn's hostility was nothing new, but there was an edge to it today that set my warrior instincts on high alert.

I spent the rest of the day restless, unable to shake the sense of unease that had settled over me. I tried to distract myself with physical therapy and more combat simulations, but my mind kept wandering back to Imogen and that strange encounter with Dr. Venn.

It was late in the evening when Imogen finally returned to our quarters, looking exhausted and troubled. I was on my feet in an instant, crossing the room to pull her into my arms.

"What's wrong?" I asked, feeling her tremble slightly against me.

She pulled back, her green eyes filled with a mix of anger and fear that made my heart clench. "It's Dr. Venn," she said. "He's trying to sabotage our work."

A surge of protective anger riled me. "What do you mean?"

Imogen took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself. "He's been altering data from our neural interface trials, making it look like the project is failing. If he succeeds, it could set back cyborg medical advancements by years."

I clenched my fists, the cybernetic one whirring with the sudden tension. "Why would he do that?"

"Because he's scared," Imogen said, her voice filled with frustration. "Our work is pushing the boundaries of what's possible with cybernetic integration. It challenges everything he thought he knew. And instead of embracing that challenge, he's trying to shut it down."