>Make a Decision and GET OUT OF THERE.

You can feel the card in your hand getting warmer, preparing for...whatever happens if you hold it too long. You've got to make this quick and step out of the room for a breather.
FERN:

Alright, alright....I...I think we should do this "Schrode" thing, worry about what to do with Crash later and just focus on the other two patients...but...uh...what exactly would happen if something were, hypothetically, to go wrong with these "transplants?"

...I mean...so Willis knows, of course.


SCISSIE:

Ah, well, you know how it is with an improperly sealed core chute...no telling what might float in from the range and germinate in compromised vessel...or what sort of branches a loose core might form in an attempt to repair itself!

It's always a surprise! Certainly never boring, if that's your concern!


FERN:

Uh...no....we...I...really need the patients to be safe.


Your hand holding the identification card is ITCHING.
SCISSIE:

Oh, pfft, of course, I mean, the chances of us messing up THIS one are extraoardinarily low.


FERN:

...How low.


Your entire body feels as if it's in an oven.
SCISSIE:

Well, you know, a job either goes right or it doesn't. That's a solid 50/50 minimum, not even factoring our professional experience!


FERN:

Um, odds don't really work that way?


...You're getting...flashes...of something. Heartbeats...?
SURGICAL BED:

Pardon me, but...if I may interject?


FERN:

OKAY, ISN'T THERE ANYTHING THAT DOESN'T TALK!?!


...not heartbeats...only one heartbeat...itchy...burning...beautiful and terrible...
TILE FLOOR:

I don't talk.


FERN:

.........


SURGICAL TABLE:

...*Ahem*...I may be a mere patient and certainly no medical professional of your caliber, Miss Tori, but these girls just did a bang-up job on my emergency retubenating, not fundamentally dissimilar to a conceptual transplantation at all. They downplay their current skill level out of respect for your own, and downplay their odds of success for fear of disappointing you.

I think if anyone around here can pull off an RR-XT6 caliber existoswap, besides yourself of course, it's these two! Your patients are in very safe blades.


...tingly...warm....you belong there.....
FERN:

Okay, okay!! I trust you guys! Just...be careful, please, and...excuse me a second, alright?


You practically fall over yourself out the door. In the split second before ramming Tori's card back into your inventory, you get the distinct impression that each one of your body organs momentarily calculated its own escape route.





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