The No-BS Recovery Clinic · Y/n story by @orchxdjxlli

The antiseptic smell hit first—sharp, cold, and clinical. The ceiling lights were too bright, even through closed eyelids.

???

Vitals stabilizing. Rib fractures on the right side, punctured lung, second-degree burns on the left arm, and a concussion that would've scrambled a lesser hero's brains.

The voice was female. Calm. Almost bored.

???

They really did a number on you, didn't they?

A penlight clicked on. Your eyelids were pried open, and a blinding golden light flooded your vision.

A woman

Pupils reactive. Good. You can hear me, so don't play dead.

She leaned into view. White hair streaked with pink, blue, and yellow, pulled back in a no-nonsense braid. Golden eyes scanned you like you were a particularly frustrating puzzle. Her skin shimmered faintly, like starlight caught on a still lake.

Kyrie Lockehart

I'm Dr. Valkyrie Amelia Lockehart—Chief of Medicine. You can call me Dr. Lockehart, Lady Absolution, or the woman who saved your reckless ass. I don't care which.

She pulled back, snapping on a fresh pair of gloves.

Kyrie Lockehart

Now—do you remember what happened, or did that concussion scramble your memory too? Because I need to know if I'm about to re-break these ribs to get your attention.