*Ugh… it hurts again. My lungs feel like bursting..*
She gazed at her hand, on the bloody floor. Was her brain malfunctioning or did her skin seem to be… green? But suddenly it was back to normal… almost. But now it seemed too pink.
*Why am I feeling it again? Am I still..? Brother-*
She tried to move but it felt like her whole body was decomposing and being reborn at the same time.
"Hm, the recovery doesn't seem to be perfect."
She glanced at the direction of the voice. In the dark, she saw a pair of curious red eyes. Eyes that were too unnatural to belong to a human.
"A…n..sel?"
"His condition is better than yours."
She felt relieved. Finally, the pain was gone. Sitting up, she felt the cold sensation of blood beneath her. The place was the same, she knew that at least. The metal walls that always seemed too uncaring to be a warm home.
"Eleanor! You're alright!" The tween had hugged her tightly and whispered, holding back his tears, "Why did you do that!? Confronting him, you knew that would be dangerous!"
"I had to," She removed his head from her shoulder to see his face. "Exploitation isn't- Ansel, why are your eyes purple?"
The stranger interrupted before he could respond, "It's a.. bit of a side effect, you have it too."
Eleanor looked at her reflection in the pool of blood under her. It was blurry and opaque but bright violet-pink dots stared back at her.
"How..?"
The stranger adjusted his glasses. Only then did Eleanor realize he even had them, for his eyes stood out so much that it was impossible to focus on anything other than them.
"Well... this is my first time doing this. So it's not perfect." Seeing her dejection, he continued, "But I'm sure that this is better than death?"
Death. Ah, right. She was dying wasn't she? But that seemed to be a matter of.. so long ago. Years maybe.. no, probably days, it would be too long otherwise. Was her determination and will to survive that great? To hold on for so long? That was a surprise to her own very self.
The stranger, not paying attention to the change in her expression, rambled on, diminishing a bit of his mysterious aura. "Well, sorry to say, I can't change them back. But! Don't blame me! This kid begged me to do this even though I told him it could be faulty."
Ansel, still clinging to his sister spoke, his voice heavy but clear.
"And I don't regret it. As long as we're healthy, we don't care. Appearances never mattered to us, did they, sister?"
Eleanor nodded, though still a bit confused. What were these side effects from? Why would Ansel accept such a treatment? He could've just called Ms. Medea..
The stranger tilted his head, "Is that so? Well, that's nice. That said.. miss, you seem much less surprised than your brother? Why is that?"
"Huh? Well, it just feels like I've had an eternity to process this. Which reminds me.. how much time has passed?"
"5 days," Ansel whispered, "It's been 5 days."
The stranger seemed taken aback yet curious. Did he not know this information before? "5 days? Well, you've preserved her rather well. Or maybe it was the temperature..? Since you haven't wiped the blood..." The stranger continued muttering under his breath.
"Preserved? What do you mean?"
The stranger broke from his thoughts. He spoke, as Ansel would put it later, so insensitively and uncaringly as if he was talking about flowers.
"Why, Didn't you know?You've been dead for 5 days. Or did you think you weren't dead yet?"