The soundstage smelled of antiseptic and fake blood. It was a peculiar combination, one that none of the campers wanted to encounter again outside of a real hospital. The lights overhead flickered with a deliberate, eerie buzz, casting long shadows across the sterile white tiles of the *Total Drama Action* medical set. It was designed to look like a chaotic emergency room, complete with gurneys, IV drips filled with green slime, and a massive operating table in the center.
Chris McLean stood in the middle of the room, wearing a doctor's coat over his usual host attire. A stethoscope hung around his neck, completely useless. He grinned, that trademark smirk that usually meant trouble.
"Welcome, campers! Tonight, we're diving into the gritty world of medical dramas! But since this is *Total Drama*, expect less saving lives and more endangering them!"
The Screaming Gaffers and Killer Grips stood on opposite sides of the 'ER'. The Gaffers looked tired. Heather's elimination in the previous episode had left a power vacuum, and Courtney was eager to fill it. The Grips looked even worse. They were down to five members after Trent and Owen's departures, and morale was low.
"Challenge number one!" Chris announced. "Assemble and revive a 'FrankenChris'! You have twenty minutes to build a monster out of these spare parts, then shock it back to life. First team to get a response wins point one!"
A pile of prosthetic limbs, wires, and mannequin torsos was dumped onto the tables. The Gaffers moved instantly. Courtney stepped up immediately, her clipboard ready.
"Alright, listen up!" Courtney barked, turning to her team. "Harold, you're on anatomy. Leshawna, you're on heavy lifting. Cody, you're on diagnostics. Katie, Sadie, keep the parts organized. Izzy… try not to explode anything."
Izzy grinned, her eyes wide and manic. She was vibrating with energy, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "No promises, C.I.T.! I've watched every episode of *General Hospital*! Well, the parts where the buildings catch fire!"
"Focus," Courtney said, but she didn't snap. She was learning. Without Heather to undermine her, she was actually… leading.
Harold was in his element, muttering about nerve clusters and voltage regulation. "Left ventricle needs to be aligned with the power source!" Harold shouted, soldering a wire with a makeshift tool. "Otherwise the electrical impulse won't trigger the motor function!"
"Just make it work, Harold!" Courtney snapped, though there was less venom in it than usual.
Leshawna grabbed the wobbly structure, her muscles straining. "Got it, babe! Hold steady!"
Katie and Sadie worked in perfect synchronization, handing over screws and panels without speaking, their twin telepathy in full effect. "Screw needed!" "Here!" "Panel loose!" "Tightening!"
On the other side, the Grips were struggling. Justin was refusing to touch the 'guts' of the monster because it might ruin his manicure. Lindsay was holding a leg upside down, looking confused.
"Is this the arm or the leg?" Lindsay asked, blinking. "It feels like a leg. But it has fingers."
"Just plug it in, Lindsay!" Tyler yelled, trying to shove a cable into a socket that was clearly too small. He wiped sweat from his forehead. "Come on, team! We can't lose another one!"
Geoff tried to mediate. "Chill, dudes. Maybe we should just… vibe with the monster?"
"It's a pile of junk, Geoff!" Justin snapped, inspecting his reflection in a metal tray. "Does this lighting make me look pale? I need my glow for the close-ups."
Beth sighed, trying to connect two wires that clearly didn't match. "Guys, please. We're down to five people. We need to win."
Chaos erupted on the Grips' side. Sparks flew. Izzy, meanwhile, had found the defibrillator paddles on the Gaffers' table. She was rubbing them together like cartoon villains do.
"Clear!" Izzy screamed, before anyone was even connected. She zapped the table. The monster twitched.
"It's alive!" Cody yelled, ducking under a swinging arm.
"Finalize the connection!" Courtney yelled. "Leshawna, stabilize the torso!"
Leshawna grabbed the wobbly structure. "Got it, babe! Hold steady!"
Harold slammed the final panel shut. "Ready! Charge to maximum!"
Courtney grabbed the paddles. "Stand back!" She pressed them against the monster's chest. *ZAP!*
The FrankenChris sat up. It groaned, a sound like grinding metal, and lifted a hand. "Ratings…" it wheezed, before collapsing back into a pile of junk.
"Response confirmed!" Chris yelled. "Gaffers take the first point!"
The Gaffers cheered. Courtney allowed herself a small smirk. She caught Harold's eye and gave a brief, respectful nod. He nodded back. They were working together.
"Challenge number two!" Chris announced, as orderlies wheeled in a hospital bed. Chef Hatchet was lying on it, pale and sweating. "A deadly outbreak has struck the set! You must diagnose the disease and create a cure using these ingredients!"
He pointed to a table filled with beakers of colorful liquids, powders, and… questionable solids.
Chef groaned dramatically. "My head… the green slime… it's eating my brain…"
The teams rushed to the table. The Gaffers huddled together.
"It's clearly a case of acute theatrical melodrama," Harold analyzed, sniffing a jar of blue powder. "Symptoms match the 'Stage Four Diva Flu'."
"So what's the cure?" Leshawna asked, mixing a red liquid into a beaker.
"Humility," Harold said. "And mint extract."
Courtney rolled her eyes but added the mint. Izzy threw in a handful of glitter. "For potency!"
Cody checked the consistency. "It's too thin. It needs a binder."
"Oatmeal!" Katie and Sadie said in unison, holding up a bowl of instant porridge from the craft services table.
They rushed the cure to Chef. Courtney forced the spoon into his mouth. Chef swallowed, gagged, then sat up. The green slime on his face vanished.
"I'm cured!" Chef declared. "But I'm still angry!"
"Gaffers win!" Chris announced. "Full immunity and… a trip to the spa for one winner and a guest!"
The Gaffers erupted. Courtney immediately stepped forward. "I believe, as team leader, I should—"
"We vote!" Leshawna interrupted, stepping in front of her. "And we chose Leshawna. Because someone had to keep the peace while you argued with Harold. Oh wait, Heather's gone. So someone had to keep the peace while you argued with the air."
Courtney's mouth opened, then closed. She crossed her arms. "Fine. But I expect a full report on the hydration facilities."
Leshawna grinned. "You got it, girl. And I'm taking Harold."
Harold's face turned bright red. "M-me? Really?"
"Really," Leshawna said, looping her arm through his. "You earned it, brainiac."
The campers applauded. Even the Grips looked happy for them. It was a rare moment of genuine warmth on the set. But the moment was short-lived.
The sound of sirens wailed in the distance. It wasn't the usual production sound effect. This was real. Loud. Getting closer.
The studio lights flickered. Red and blue flashes painted the white walls. Everyone froze. Chris looked toward the entrance, his smile faltering for the first time all night.
Two black SUVs screeched to a halt behind the bleachers. Doors slammed. Men in dark suits stepped out, moving with purpose. They weren't production staff.
Courtney stepped forward, her CIT instincts kicking in. "Excuse me! This is a private production! You can't just—"
One of the agents held up a badge. "We're here for Izzy."
All eyes turned to the red-haired girl. The campers gasped. Lindsay covered her mouth. The Gaffers shifted uncomfortably. Izzy wasn't panicking. She wasn't running. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor, humming a tune, as if she had been expecting this.
"Izzy," the agent said, his voice flat. "You are still under investigation for the Kaleidoscope incident. However… the government has reviewed your file."
Izzy tilted her head. "And?"
"And we've decided your… unique skill set… is too valuable to lock away." The agent handed her a thick envelope. "Probation. Conditional release. You work for us now. Undercover. Inside the game."
The campers gasped again. Gwen, who was watching from the sidelines with the other eliminated campers, stepped closer to Ezekiel. But on the field, the competitors were stunned.
"A secret agent?" Izzy asked, her eyes shining. "Like James Bond? But with more explosions?"
"Exactly," the agent said. "You stay in the competition. You gather intelligence. You report to us. But if you step out of line… prison."
Izzy jumped up, doing a backflip. "DEAL!"
She turned to the campers. Her expression softened, just for a moment. The manic energy dialed down to something human. "Sorry, guys! Duty calls! But don't worry! I'll be watching! From the shadows!"
She looked directly at Courtney. "C.I.T.… don't let the team fall apart. You're the boss now."
Courtney blinked, surprised. "I… I won't."
Izzy looked at Leshawna and Harold. "You two… cute. Don't mess it up."
She looked at the Grips. "Justin… your hair looks great. Lindsay… don't eat the yellow snow."
Then she hopped into the SUV. The door slammed. The cars sped off, leaving a cloud of dust and confusion.
Chris blinked, recovering his host persona. "Well. That's… new. So, technically, Izzy is eliminated from the game… but still employed by the state? Whatever. Grips, no one goes home tonight.
There was no marshmallow ceremony. No voting. No dramatic eliminations. Just the silence of a set suddenly missing one of its loudest voices. The campers dispersed slowly, confused, unsettled.
Courtney stood alone for a moment, looking at the spot where Izzy had been. She took a deep breath. She was the leader now. No Heather. No Izzy. Just her and the team.
"Alright, Gaffers," Courtney said, her voice steady. "Let's pack up. We have a spa report to write."
Leshawna laughed. "You're something else, Court."
On the other side, the Grips looked defeated. Tyler kicked at the floor. "We can't keep losing like this."
"We won't," Geoff said, putting a hand on Tyler's shoulder. "We just need to find our rhythm."
Justin checked his reflection in a darkened monitor. "I still look good, though."
Beth sighed. "Come on, guys. Let's go back to the trailers."
As the campers walked off the set, the lights dimmed. The medical equipment was wheeled away. The fake blood was wiped clean. But the tension remained. Izzy was gone, but she wasn't gone. She was out there. Watching.
Chris stood alone in the center of the room, holding his clipboard. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Secret agents… ratings gold. But risky. Very risky."
He turned to the camera. " Tune in next time for more *Total Drama Action*! Where the challenges get harder, the alliances get tighter, and the secrets… get deeper."
The screen faded to black.