Page 5

For a moment, I stood steady, a small thrill of accomplishment running through me. Then my balance wavered, and I toppled.

Before I could fall, Dr. Imogen was there, her arms wrapping around me to keep me upright. The sudden closeness caught me off guard, and I found myself acutely aware of her warmth, the soft scent of her hair.

"I've got you," she murmured, her breath warm against my ear. "You're doing great, Norn. Just breathe."

I closed my eye, focusing on steadying mybreathing and regaining my balance. As I did, a memory surfaced, unbidden.

I was back on Krixon, a young recruit struggling through my first year of training. I had fallen during a grueling obstacle course, twisting my ankle badly. As I lay there, fighting back tears of pain and frustration, my instructor stood over me, his face a mask of disappointment.

"Get up," he had barked. "Warriors don't need help. They overcome or they die."

I had forced myself to my feet that day, finishing the course on my injured ankle. The pain had been excruciating, but I had done it, earning a nod of approval from my instructor.

But now, as I stood in Dr. Imogen's gentle embrace, I couldn't help but wonder: had that really strengthened me? Or had it just taught me to ignore my own limitations, to push myself past the point of reason?

"Norn?" Dr. Imogen's voice pulled me back to the present. "Are you alright?"

I realized I had been standing on my own for several moments, lost in thought. "Yes," I said, slowly pulling away from her support. "I think I can manage now."

She stepped back, but kept her hands hovering near me, ready to catch me if I faltered. "That'sexcellent progress," she said, a warm smile lighting up her face. "How does it feel?"

I took a tentative step, then another. My movements were clumsy, lacking the fluid grace I had once possessed, but I was moving under my power. "It feels... strange," I admitted. "But not as bad as I expected."

Dr. Imogen nodded encouragingly. "That's normal. Your body is still adjusting to the changes. But you're doing remarkably well, considering the extent of your injuries."

As we continued the therapy session, I opened up to her in a way I never had before. I told her about Krixon, about the rigorous training that had shaped me into a warrior. And to my surprise, I shared some doubts that had plagued me over the years.

"I always thought strength was everything," I said as we took a break, sitting side by side on the edge of the bed. "That showing weakness or needing help was a failure."

Dr. Imogen was quiet for a moment, her green eyes thoughtful. "There's strength in vulnerability too, you know," she said finally. "In admitting when you need help, in allowing others to support you. It takes a different kind of courage."

I pondered her words, feeling as though my world view was shifting beneath my feet. "I'm not sure I know how to be that kind of strong," I admitted.

She reached out, placing her hand gently on my arm. The touch sent a warm tingle through my cybernetic sensors. "You're already doing it," she said softly. "Every time you push through the pain, every time you try again after a setback. That's real strength, Norn."

As I looked into her eyes, I felt something stir within me, a feeling I couldn't quite name. It was warm and unfamiliar, both thrilling and terrifying.

Before I could examine the feeling further, a sharp pain lanced through my missing arm, causing me to wince. Dr. Imogen immediately shifted into doctor mode, checking my vitals and adjusting my medication.

"Phantom limb pain," she explained as she worked. "It's common in cases like yours. Your brain is still trying to process the loss of the limb."

I nodded, gritting my teeth against the pain. "How long will it last?"

"It varies from patient to patient," she said. "But there are treatments we can try. I'll adjust your pain management regimen and we can look into some alternative therapies."

As the pain subsided, I observed Dr. Imogen's face. There was a determination there, a fierce commitment to healing that reminded me of the warriors I had fought alongside. But there was a gentleness too, a compassion that was entirely foreign to me.

"Why do you care so much?" I asked suddenly, the question escaping before I could stop it. "About me, about your patients. You push yourself so hard for us."

Dr. Imogen looked surprised by the question. She was quiet for a moment, her hands stilling on the medical equipment. "Because every life is precious," she said finally. "Because I believe that everyone deserves a chance to heal, to find their purpose. Even if that purpose is different from what they originally thought it would be."

Her words resonated within me, stirring up emotions I had long suppressed. I thought of my fallen comrades, of the lives I had taken in battle. Had I ever stopped to consider the value of those lives? Or had I simply seen them as obstacles to be overcome, enemies to be eliminated?

"I'm not sure I know how to live like that," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "To see value in life beyond the battlefield."

Dr. Imogen's expression softened. She reached out, taking my remaining hand in both of hers. "Then maybe that's what you need to heal," she said gently. "Not just your body, but your spirit too."

As I looked into her eyes, I felt something shift within me. The warrior's resolve that had driven me for so long cracked, revealing a vulnerability I had never allowed myself to feel before.