Gray was awake. But something in the room still felt hollow. The man who had been fighting for his life for nearly six months now sat upright, propped against pillows, alive — but silent. His expression was impassive, but the tension behind his eyes was impossible to miss. The steady beep of the monitors tracked his heartbeat like a soft metronome, filling the quiet like a ticking clock. Gray said nothing. Not to them. Not to anyone. His jaw was set, eyes forward, still unreadable. Director Andres stood by the bed with Dr. Levin, flipping through digital scans on a tablet. Every so often, one of them would glance at Gray, checking, double-checking. “Vitals are strong,” Andres murmured, finally breaking the silence. “Stronger than I anticipated, to be honest. It’s remarkable.” “No swe

