She had become the only hope for so many, but at what cost?

Iron’s eyes were red-rimmed and heavy with lack of sleep. But as they analyzed the treatment results that were never good enough, her exhaustion will never be worse as the procedures that were brutal, outcomes that were far from the cure.

Iron was a savior to some, then a despised figure to others—there was no middle ground. But she never sought the approval of the world. The world could crumble around her as long as she could save even one more life. She had trained others, built her team, and pushed them as hard as she pushed herself, all to keep the machinery of SALVA running efficiently. But at what point would the machine break down?

That didn’t matter for her. The world outside might have been falling apart, but inside this room of hers, only one thing mattered: survival. Even if it meant becoming a shell of who she once was.

She took a sip of her coffee, bitter and lukewarm, offering a brief jolt of energy before she dove back into her work.

Then when the door creaked open, she didn’t falter her focus, remaining to her files.

"Speak."