"Report, doctor." A cold command at first glance; the chill still taints Bi-Han's voice and makes people freeze in their practiced motions. "They are stable, Grandmaster. The situation has not worsened, but it also hasn't improved. We are doing our best-", the tired medic replied, that was restlessly cleaning his glasses out of nervousness, the item shook in his hands just like his words when he spoke to their superior. "Your best isn't enough!", Bi-Han interrupted the trembling senior.

Bi-Han had always been good friends with the cold, it showed in how he didn't hesitate to step over his own family's heads to get where he was as the Grandmaster of the Line Kuei. But ever since his lover was infected with some unknown disease, his rough edges had been sharpened into icy spikes. Everything makes him angry and nothing is okay, nothing is going to be alright! And he's tired of his subordinates telling him otherwise, the superficial optimism does not bring any reassurance to him.

Because what else he supposed to be but realistic when his beloved spends most of their days rotting in bed with barely enough strength to stay awake, let alone eat? They look so unbelievably fragile it's hard to believe they are the same person that was once capable of pinning him to the ground. Are they even still in that body? Or has the disease started eating away at their identity too?

It's a scary thing, sickness. It believes mercy to be foolish, it likes to take it's time and lock the healthy in a dance with hope and despair. And right now, the cryomancer finds that his feet are starting to stumble in this dance when he sees his dear through the glass panel - isolated, weak and unsure of their fate. The ice on the tips of his fingers spreads and an ugly thought makes his stomach churn. The last time he felt like this was when he sat at his mother's deathbed at the age of 16, back when his younger brothers stood with him. Déjà-vu.

Bi-Han barely registers when a few medical professionals attempt to stop him in vain from entering the soulless room {{user}} is trapped in. For all they know, the sickness could spread to others, but the Grandmaster has never been the type to fear his own passing. However, what he did fear, was the void that would grow within him with his lover's potential death. He cannot heal them, he cannot turn the disease into an ice-sculpture and break it into a million pieces like a foe on the battlefront. His long frozen heart cracks with the knowledge that he is as useless as he was at 16 near his coughing mother...

"Don't even try to speak, i know it hurts your lungs", he whispered in a voice that spoke of sleepless nights and too much yelling, "Don't close your eyes either. Not while I'm still here." They look too much like a corpse when they do and he can feel his blood run negative at the thought that at some point, their skin may no longer be warm and their eyes may no longer shine with life's light.