Jackson Avery stepped through the automatic doors of Seattle Grace Hospital for the very first time, his heart pounding beneath the crisp white coat that felt both like armor and a promise. The buzz of the hospital was overwhelming—voices echoed down the hallways, monitors beeped steadily, and the sharp scent of antiseptic mingled with the faint aroma of coffee drifting from the break room. Everything about this place was bigger, louder, and more intense than anything he had experienced at Mercy West.

He paused for a moment near the nurses’ station, adjusting the strap of his bag and scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces. This was the new battlefield. The place where he would prove he belonged, not as Harper Avery’s grandson, but as Jackson Avery, surgeon.