It hardly took one breath for Jackson to hear those dreaded words confirming failed responsibilities. A reiteration of what would happen in the real world, had he been given the task to mend, to take care of – someone, potentially an individual within the second set of children, had succumbed to their illness with not a hand helped in their favor. A neglected patient with a family that’d no longer be able to see their son or daughter, a ghost dissipating in the air. Because he took too long to recoup, and he sat there on satin white sheets, the calm atmosphere contrasting sharply with his pulse. Clenched, and unclenched steadily, one hand facing palm up at him with a comforted fervor, his body finally settling at room temperature without the need for motivation.
Bodies fill the ward once more, their harried sounds accompanying their hatched presence – he had really made no progress at all as he looked around him and found familiar faces again suffering from ailments and gauntly appearances that he had remedied only moments before. But, he knows this – it was a game that was all or nothing, anyway.
But he’s ready this time. First half of four: one child with relative chills, three children with varying degrees of high fevers, one of which was not critical and continued to watch him with curious orbs, the same who offered him a glimmer of encouragement through a small grin. He remembered this time to offer one back, a finger coming up to split his lips with light comic relief – hang tight, everything would be okay. Jackson’s skin was already emanating a mild heat, and he again, wrapped himself in a cocoon of sheets until he could feel them absorbing all that they could.
Stick with what worked, he thought.
“Wrap yourself tightly in this, okay?” he quickly advised, a slight departure from his second round. Fabric fanned out over the child like a replayed memory, and she tucked herself in obediently until all that was visible was the crown of her head.
Now, he was able to ready himself for the temperature change. A physical and mental preparation that stood like a stone wall against extirpation; a polar opposite bite constricting his veins and causing him to cough out a wisp of what was left within his lungs. He does it again, rolling the bed toward its partner with all his strength, colliding them without disrupting the occupants. And his hands took ahold of the steel on both, a frigid air taking form so fast that it coats the solid with a visible layer of white.
Jackson turned to the fourth child, and pointed to him with a forward tilt to his head. “You,” he targeted, lips straightened into a solid line – poker face. “.. are not allowed to smile. That’s your mission, alright?” A faithful nod follows suit as he took possession of the boy’s hand, touching the other to his forehead. The child looked up at him with curiosity, yet he obeyed the command with a mouth slightly agape – until Jackson quickly stuck his tongue out and looked away as if nothing had happened.
A small giggle sounded before the boy plastered his hands over his face as if it had betrayed him. “No, it’s okay. Laughing is allowed. I just said no smiling,” he stated factually with relaxed eyes. “… how do you laugh without smiling?” The question comes through as the first real words he’s heard since he’d been in the room, non-mechanical, and a hint of surprise crosses his expression before it’s pushed away just as fast as it came.
“Like this.” The corners of his mouth downturn and he forces out a high-pitched chortle before stopping and staring, deadpanned. The boy subsequently laughs again before pulling on his own face. “You’re weird.”
“I was born this way.” A conclusion he already knew. Hands remove themselves from heated flesh, and Jackson knew he had instilled enough distraction and will power within the child to step away, disappearing behind a second set of curtains as he continued on with the task.
He’s done it no more for the sake of the sick than he did for himself – those short minutes allowed him to settle his core temperature to something manageable; complacent. The hairs on his head thawed and reinvigorated, blue veins expanding once again. His mind eased with the display of joy in an environment that was so dead against such.
But he could hear increased coughing and moaning – someone is crying. And he focuses on a sight that is much more extreme than what remained behind him.
All four children are new him; respectively so. But they neglect a glance in his direction as their demons haunt over them as if visible to the naked eye. One bed caught his attention especially – a girl with all the color drained from her skin, damp with pearls of sweat. Yet she rolled uncontrollably beneath heavy blankets, jaw jutting from its points as her teeth clenched. It’s a display that renders her the highest priority as he stood next to her bed, grabbing her hand to calm her. Cold as death  – it makes him wonder how she was still even alive.
That doomed sound of warning that etched itself within his eardrums came out once again. It gave Jackson no time to think on what to do, and he ended up just doing. Heat reignited and burned his chest, pupils nearly glowing with both palms on either side of the child’s face. She had no response and continued to shift her legs with restlessness. It’s only until he ends up pulling her body to him, close and with arms wrapped securely, did he realize that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
It wasn’t working.
She became limp with the final tone of her pulse.
And he’s left frozen in place, holding onto a corpse.
SIMULATION J-397, THIRD ATTEMPT: FAIL.
The room dissolves. He leans against the wall and slides down it with charcoal at his heart.
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That was one of the things that made him weak, those frequent occurrences of simply underestimating things too difficult to break. It was embedded in the nineteen-year-old’s character – and then he had to tell himself again that those figures that were surrounding him weren’t real. The child who had died at his hands a mere couple of seconds ago: they weren’t real.
The simulation had shut down, only a high-pitched sound rang amidst a shower of white noise to his hearing. Eeriness encompassed the room. He took a deep breath, thinking that he was okay despite the one heartbeat that came irregular, tapping against his chest as if asking to be let out – ignored. He cleared his throat into a clenched fist and he spoke aloud. “Again. Restart!”
And it all shifted back into a familiar setting, the same girl from before looking at him with a curious tilt to her head. You’re back. But he doesn’t take his time with this round as he felt his fingers tingle, the sensation spreading through all four limbs and setting his core aflame with a heat that he hadn’t forced in so long.
Jackson had a plan this time – or so he thought. The way that the moisture on his skin rose to the air advertised that fact, one hand grasping a set of unused, folded blankets while the other tossed them over the entirety of his figure. It doesn’t take long for the fabric to adopt his temperature, the smell of warm cotton and the threat of melting polyester filling his nostrils. He shrugged them off as quickly as he could before splaying them over the first girl – her shivers from earlier gave her away, something that he had remembered.
She nestled her head as comfortably as she could against her pillow, and he figured that she would be fine.
The hardest challenge was dealing with those with the light fading from their eyes – a simple warm blanket wouldn’t be enough, too insignificant of an impact to ease the aches that reverberated from their depths. The same boy that garnered his focus and resulted in his first failure appeared just as lifeless as he did before – eyelids heavy with the sand of eternal sleep. But before he decided to move forward, he surveyed the bed next to him –
And it was a good thing that he did. A girl, this time, that looked more entrenched in her illness than the other few, had thrown sheets off of her body, her mattress soaked nearly to its springs, chest heaving, eyes starting to roll to the back of her head…
No, no. Stay with me.
Her gasps became disturbing, and the beats of her life ticked down at an increased pace. A rush to the feet of her bed and Jackson’s expression is frustrated, panicked, because he was still too hot to touch. It’s a mental slap to the face because he realized that he shouldn’t have put so much effort on the first bed – again, his eagerness had got the best of him. But despite this, he suddenly took ahold of her bed's frame and rolled it forward until it’s joined with the individual’s next to her.
He hadn’t a clue on whether it would work – it’s an idea that would look absurd, almost comical on paper. But hands clamped down on both railings, and what he subsequently forces takes more strength than he has, leading him into the negative. A spindly network of ice coat the metal workings until it creaks, and it cackled at the hardship until the frost crept across sheets and ultimately, beneath their persons.
It’s not instant, no. One continued to nod their head from side to side, a pendulum accompanying the continuous rhythm that existed in the backdrop – the other remained motionless, but their mouth was no longer gaping. A sense of calm progresses until it revealed the desired reality that allows him to peel his palms away. A sigh of relief is heaved, and he nearly trips over his own two feet when he steps back.
They’re okay –
But he’s not. Yet he kept going with frozen fingers settled against a fourth child. They suffered from the heat as well, but at least they were able to gaze up at him, wide-eyed, until something connected and a small smile crossed their lips.
There were four more left still, but his thermostat was broken. Polar opposite temperatures attempted in a less than five minute margin was another one of Jackson’s shortcoming. A struggling intermediate with a relatively controlled hold on his power was really more of a joke than it was a fact. He thought about the hypothetical situation of actually being there at the time of Busan’s destruction, with school peers and close friends. And how he could have figured out how to be useful with what God, the universe, whatever, really, had given him.
But --
What a joke, the thought repeats, until a familiar voice sounded.
He stood looking up at the ceiling, hand still – paused. It hovered over a door handle, unsure and undetermined. He doesn’t know how to feel; things have tied into messy knots within his stomach, his flesh cold to touch, and he has to bite his lip to realize that he’s not sure that he’s ready.
The nineteen-year-old, often described as simple-minded, a young man who had a plush exterior and naïve view on the world… was nothing such. He didn’t like to analyze, to think critically, but he did. And this moment was one of those many things that plagued his mind during his stay at the institute. Because though he put off and even rejected any notions that he’d finally take an official first step, he knew that he wasn’t here to just dip his toes and soak.
It was time.
A grip was determined after some moments and the entrance was swung open, revealing nothing special, nothing in particular. A blank canvas of a room – a type with walls so pristine that one would be tempted to splash color within it. But his facial expression remained loose, lips parted slightly until the door behind him clicked and caused his skin to ripple like waves amongst an expansive network of nerves.
It was evolving. He blinked and he doesn’t remember the seemingly endless rows of beds lining parallel walls. They’re with sheets and they’re clean, they’re pressed, until they weren’t – small figures made lumps in the material and he noticed some of them were sitting upright while some were lying… indisposed. Someone coughed softly, and it caused his eyes to train in on a particular face before he realized something – they’re children.
No. No. Finalize that thought now. They’re not real.
They were all around the same age, but their faces were distinguishable. Jackson will learn that he hates that in the coming moments. Because they’re speechless, but their expressions ask him of everything. The atmosphere suddenly feels thick, heavy without a justifiable enough description, like sick days in his room where all he could do was lay sweaty and restless. Their blankets were growing stained to varying degrees, not a soul but himself to treat them. He knows what he’s supposed to do, and it’s almost too obvious – he’s not coined Fever without a reason.
But the moment he stepped forward, things seemed more ominous than before. A young girl occupied the first bed to his left, her eyes brighter than the others, but something appearing to be caught in her throat as she looked to him. He approached her, offering a concerned yet friendly twist of his lips before he spoke, “Hi. I’m here to help you. Can I.. ?” It comes out too naturally; it needs to. A short lean over her bed and his hand rested against her cheek, sensing her status through room temperature fingers. She was fine. A mild fever, but nothi –
A loud buzz sounds suddenly and startles him, his head whipping around in its direction only to find that a heart monitor displays an ECG so radical that he couldn’t allow himself the time to stay standing frozen to his spot. Immediately, he runs to the child – a boy whose eyes are sunken and hollow, a whisper away from a decaying skull. His hand finds the child’s forehead, beaded heavily with moisture, and feels a heat that would be life-threatening to any biological being.
“Hey, hey – ! Hang in there, okay?” A slight desperation in his voice as his skin turns pale, because he doesn’t know how to do this and he’s not ready to see death at his hands, real or not. The boy’s blankets are quickly removed, exposing a muddled halo around his bruised body and introducing Jackson to a vision he’s never remotely experienced before. An illness too horrid had latched itself onto the boy’s soul, his health deteriorating rapidly as representations of warning, warning rang repeatedly in his ears.
It’s so loud that he doesn’t realize that there’s another one sounding.
And then another.
Until a monitor flatlines amidst the chaos and it stops his heart.
