DUMMM.
Herbert felt the heart's pulse in his hand. He was beyond pleased; he was ecstatic. In the ensuing chaos, Lady K's lackeys were too stunned to notice when he slipped through their grasp. In a few quick steps, he was before the surgical table.
He didn't need a prophet to tell him what to do. He couldn't be more certain.
He picked up the heart. Using his scalpel, he carefully held back the squirming flesh of Noll's chest, trying to keep the excised space from healing shut. If he could just put the heart back in, maybe—
"What the heck are you doing!" a scream reached him. He was becoming too familiar with that voice to be rattled by it.
"I am trying to put the heart back to ensure his survival," Herbert replied, his voice steady.
"And why would you do that?" Lady K questioned, her tone dangerously low.
Herbert was too stunned to speak, his body frozen.
"The Researcher needs his heart," her voice thundered, "not him."
"But—" Paleface protested.
"But nothing, scum," Lady K barked. "Just watch."
Herbert stood still and watched, his mind racing through the several terrible ways this could end. If things went south, he would be the one paying the price. He needed an argument that could penetrate the lady's grunt-brained reasoning, and he needed it fast. His mind churned, but minutes later, he still had nothing.
Nothing, except the sight before him. The botched chest wound was halfway through sealing itself, the squirming momentum of its race to heal not diminishing one bit.
"How is he doing that?" Paleface did not realize when the question left his mouth.
"He is my sweetie, of course," Lady K's voice was laced with a proud, ownership satisfaction. "He is a marvel. Stronger than a spineless fool like you will ever hope to be. He is perfect."
Herbert couldn't care less about Lady K's praise, but Noll had his full attention. He was stunned. He looked from the rapidly healing chest to the heart still held in his own hands, his expression unreadable.
"I will store this properly, then," he spoke, clarifying his actions to Lady K. She couldn't be bothered to reply.
Herbert carefully placed the heart in the cold box, shutting the lid and cranking up the temperature controls. His hands lingered on the top of the chest for a moment too long.
"What the heck did you just do!" Lady K's annoyed voice reached him again.
"Wha—" Herbert's mouth was already moving to spout some nonsense before he spotted the development she was referring to.
Noll's healing chest had suddenly slowed. The intensity of the squirming flesh diminished. What could have happened? He questioned himself, trying to analyze the change in that brief instant. He didn't have to trace his steps back far before he realized. He hadn't moved from the spot, but his hands immediately flew back to the cold box, dialing down the temperature control.
The frantic squirming of Noll's chest returned to its previous pace.
"His heart… it's still aiding his body heal, even when it's not attached," Herbert spoke in pure, scientific amazement. "How the hell is he doing that? How is that even possible?"
Both of his questions hung in the air, unanswered. Lady K's men couldn't be bothered. A single, dismissive hughh left Lady K's mouth, and that was it.
Only in Lune's sunken eyes did the light intensify—not just interest, but a sharp, impossible flicker of hope.
Herbert couldn't let the lack of excitement from his grunt-brained audience hamper his own. His mind was already recalibrating, making new conjectures about Noll's ability.
"Diddlers!" Lady K called out.
"Yes, Lady!" her three lackeys responded immediately.
"Go inform the Researcher over the coms. The transaction is happening this evening. Anything later, and we renegotiate the terms."
They immediately made to move.
"Uhumm," her low croak came through, and they paused. "One of you stay back. Keep an eye on Paleface."
The decision was made with a silent, eye-to-eye communication as Lady K left with two of them. Herbert knew better than to debate the tyrant's decision. There was nothing more he could do to assist Noll at the moment. He found a less dirty space beside the platform where the cage rested and sat down to wait.
Minutes stretched into hours under the lackluster gaze of a six-foot behemoth with a mustache that stretched out like that of a sheriff in a cowboy blockbuster.
"Will he die…" a soft voice reached Herbert at some point in the evening.
Herbert took a moment to observe the asker. Blue hair, a shade that couldn't possibly be natural. Even as a captive, she radiated an aura that drew you in.
"Awakened?" he asked, his voice low.
"Yes," her reply came, hushed and calculated.
"What can you do?" his next question came instantly.
She was silent. Figures, Herbert thought to himself. It's not something to throw around.
"Whether he will die or survive, I have no idea," Herbert finally answered her. "This Awakened stuff… it's as nonsensical as it is magical. I used to think I had some grasp on how it works after spending so much time with him," he continued, gesturing with his head toward Noll's body. "But after today's madness, I am certain I understand nothing."
Lune was silent for some time. "What's his name?" she whispered.
"I never figured that out, either," Herbert replied.
The two of them and their guard, the behemoth Herbert thought of as 'Sheriff,' kept their company in silence, but not for long. The hinges of the metal door groaned loudly as a heavily tanned, bulky man entered—one of Lady K's Hounds. He spared no one a glance as he moved gingerly and took the cold box.
Herbert instinctively stood up to follow.
"Where are you going, Paleface?" the guard by the cage asked, his voice a low rumble.
Herbert looked at him inquisitively.
"The lady wants you here," the guard stated flatly.
"Why?"
"Lady K wants you here till he wakes. If you need to handle any business, let Sheriff know."
The newly arrived Hound didn't waste a single moment, marching out of the room with the box.
"They should not tamper with the temperature of the box!" Herbert screamed after him. "Keep it the way it is!"
The grunt did not flinch in his march as he left.
Please don't die, Herbert murmured to himself, relaxing back into his spot and doing his best to calm his mind. This wasn't the first time he was in this kind of situation. His life was that of a captive. His cage had only gotten smaller for the moment.
Hours turned into days. The lackeys on watch changed. Lady K made a rare appearance once in a while. But one thing remained constant.
The young man on the surgical table did not wake.
Herbert, with some guileful persuasion, managed to get permission to visit his family at one point.
On the seventeenth day, Lady K's patience finally snapped.
"Why is he still not waking?" she raged, her voice echoing in the small room.
Herbert knew better than to reply. He had explained tens of times that a new heart had grown. He had no explanation for this current comatose state.
"Very well," Lady K harrumphed, her voice dropping to a determined stillness.
"Harvest the new one."