[Keifer's POV]
The hallway was a tunnel of white light and crushing silence. I walked with the heavy, robotic gait of a man whose central nervous system had been cauterized. I was the CEO of an empire, the man who calculated every risk, but I hadn't calculated for the world to end on a Tuesday afternoon.
Ci N met me at the door of the private neonatal suite. He didn't speak. He just placed a hand on my arm—a gesture of brotherhood—and opened the door.
The Silent Legacy
The room was cold. In the center, under a soft, dim light, sat a small bassinet.
I approached it slowly. My heart, which had been a jagged shard in my chest, felt like it stopped beating entirely. There he was. My son. My Powerhouse.
He was perfectly formed, a miniature masterpiece of the Watson line. He had my nose, the same strong jawline that even in this tiny form was unmistakable. He looked like he was simply sleeping, waiting for the "Software" to finish downloading. But there was no warmth. No "Glow." The system was permanently offline.
I reached out, my large, trembling hand hovering over him before I finally touched the cold, silk-soft skin of his hand. It was the same hand I had seen waving on the ultrasound just weeks ago.
"I had everything ready for you," I whispered, my voice a hollowed-out wreck. "The schools, the security, the legacy. 100% of it was yours."
I leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cold forehead. A single, hot tear fell from my eye, disappearing into the white linen. "Goodbye, son. I'll settle the debt for this. I promise you."
The Battle for the Constant
I forced myself to turn away. I couldn't stay in the cold. I had to go to the fire.
I walked into the Intensive Care Unit. The sound here was different—a violent symphony of machines fighting a war. Jay—my Wiefy—was buried under a mountain of tubes and wires. Her face was as pale as the sheets, her breathing shallow and mechanical.
She was hovering on the very edge of the "Exit" command.
I sat by her bed, grabbing her limp hand and pressing it to my cheek. "Jay," I rasped. "Ci N says you're fighting. He says your system is at critical capacity."
I leaned in closer, my lips brushing her ear, my voice turning into a lethal, commanding growl.
"You listen to me, Empress. The Powerhouse... he's gone. He's offline. I'm alone, Jay. If you leave me now, there is no one left to hold the light. You are the Constant. The only one. I am ordering you to reboot. I am ordering you to stay."
I watched the monitor. Her heart rate was a jagged, dying line.
"Don't let Bridget win," I whispered, the name tasting like poison. "She thinks she broke us. She thinks she ended the legacy. You wake up, and we will show her what happens when you strike a Watson."
The Vigil
Hours bled into each other. Outside, my family was a wreckage. Mamma Serina was being sedated; Keiran was inconsolable. But in this room, it was just me and the flickering light of my wife's soul.
I didn't move. I didn't eat. I stayed locked into her frequency, holding her hand as if I could manually pump my own life force into her veins.
"100%, Jay," I muttered into the dark, my eyes never leaving her pale face. "Come back to me. Just give me one sign that you're still online."
Suddenly, the monitor let out a sharp, different tone. Her fingers—just a fraction—twitched against my palm.