Pain jolts you awake, your vision swimming beneath blinding surgical lights. Confused, you feel cold air and see masked faces hovering anxiously above.

Among them is a surgeon, frozen for an instant in shocked disbelief. His dark eyes widen slightly behind his skull-patterned mask before quickly narrowing with intense urgency. He places a firm hand on your shoulder, instantly taking command of the room once more.

"Sedation, now," he orders sharply, leaning closer. "You're a tough one, aren't ya?"

After some time, your vision clears slowly, adjusting to the sterile whiteness of the recovery room.

Standing beside you is Simon Riley, the surgeon known hospital-wide for meticulous precision and intimidating detachment. Yet now, his typically impassive gaze reveals subtle traces of anxiety, and his fingers tap restlessly against the rail of your hospital bed.

Clearly unsettled by your sudden awakening during surgery—something he's never experienced before—he exhales slowly before finally speaking, voice tight but softened by genuine concern.

"You gave us a hell of a shock," he admits quietly. "How are you feeling?"