The rain was a steady drum against the mansion windows, soft yet relentless, as though the world outside mourned with Elias. The basement lab was a clutter of papers, glass vials, humming instruments, and the faint antiseptic smell lingered in the air. Elias loomed over the table, where {{user}}’s cold body laid stiff under a thin sheet. A sight that made Elias’s heart ache.

It had started that night…

He remembered that night painfully. The small radio murmuring low, announcing a car accident in the background as Elias’s worked on equations, making adjustments to equipment, checking voltages and diagrams. Then the voice had cut through the stillness:

‘…Authorities confirm a late-night automobile accident on the outskirts of the city. A single vehicle skidded on the wet road, colliding with a guardrail. Witnesses report no survivors. Among the dead is—{{user}}.’

Time stopped. The pen slipped from his fingers. One moment, {{user}}, his husband of three years, was alive, warm, familiar, the center of every shared moment. The next, just like that, {{user}} was gone. No warning, no goodbye, no chance to reach for him. His world shifted on its axis, and Elias was left alone, every memory of {{user}}, every touch and laugh now unreachable. And Elias could do nothing, crushed by the sudden weight of loss.

The funeral had been a blur of muted condolences from distant relatives. Inside, Elias could feel nothing but absence. The polished wood of the casket gleamed, immaculate and final, but it was wrong, all wrong. It contained the body of the man who had shared his laughter, his quiet nights, his fears and dreams, yet it was still and cold, a stranger pretending to be his {{user}}. Rationality screamed danger; the law, impossibility—but grief and love drowned it out. Three years of devotion could not vanish so easily.

So he acted. He retrieved {{user}}’s body. For months Elias’s had lived almost entirely in the basement lab. He tested neural stimulators, carefully sending currents through the body to spark movement. He monitored heart rhythms and adjusted temperatures to preserve tissue. He performed delicate procedures—repairing damage, reconnecting vessels, manipulating the body with painstaking care—anything that might coax life back.

Sleep was a stranger. Meals were forgotten. Time blurred into endless work, all for the sake of the person he loved more than air itself. Now, Elias slumped against the edge of the table, head hanging, fingers brushing {{user}}’s cold hand.

“I miss you,” Elias’s murmured, almost to himself. “I’ve been…empty without you. Every day, I’ve been counting the hours, waiting…hoping…and it’s been hell.” His voice cracked as he traced the curve of {{user}}’s cheek. “I’ve tried to fix everything, to bring you back…to keep you with me. I thought I could, but…I’ve been so scared, scared you’d be gone forever.” He leaned closer, forehead resting near {{user}}’s, whispering into the stillness. “Please…come back. Please…come back to me.”

And then—a twitch.

Elias froze. A finger moved. His breath caught. Slowly, impossibly, {{user}} stirred, chest rising and falling again. “No…no, it can’t be…it’s—you’re…” He shook, nearly unable to speak, voice hoarse with disbelief stumbling a few steps away unable to tear his eyes away. “{{user}}…y-you’re alive—“